A rhinoceros when once started is a difficult beast to stop, though a shot from a heavy rifle will generally turn it. Their most determined charge is less to be feared than that of a buffalo or elephant, as they rarely if ever hunt a man, but rush straight on, whether they miss him or knock him down. The only instance I have ever heard of in which a rhinoceros renewed the attack under any circumstances (i.e. wounded or unwounded) after it had dispersed or knocked down its enemy, happened to Captain Pringle, R.E., when returning from Uganda in 1892. This occurred between Machako’s and Kibwezi, in Ukambani. The beast—which, by the way, was not wounded—repeatedly charged the men, who were, however, too nimble for it, and it finally amused itself by tossing Pringle’s load of bedding about, ventilating it in some half-dozen places with its horn before being driven off.
When within range, which may be any distance between 80 and 30 yards, unless safely ensconced behind a small tree or ant-heap, the stalker should cast a look round immediately to leeward of his position, to see that there is no wart-hog hole or other obstruction, in which he might come to grief, should it be necessary to dodge in case of a charge. The stalker should always endeavour to get within a range of 80 yards, to ensure a vital shot at the shoulder. If the country is favourable and the beast can be approached within 35 yards or less, a shot in the neck, a trifle below and a few inches behind the base of the ear, would be instantly fatal. Although the object of this shot is to break the vertebræ of the neck, it is better to aim rather low than too high, as there is always a chance of the bullet severing the main arteries of the neck or jugular vein should the vertebræ be missed, whereas a shot above the vertebræ might go clean through the neck and the beast be none the worse.
‘I was knocked over’
Every sportsman will probably have his own ideas as to shooting positions, and as most shooting (except elephant shooting) in East Africa is done in fairly open country, he can please himself, and will in most cases be able to adopt the position most convenient, whether it be standing, kneeling, sitting, or lying. Personally I prefer to sit down, and always fire even a 4- or 8-bore in this position, provided the grass is not too high to obscure my view of the beast. The recoil of such rifles—a push, rather than a kick—is too much for any man, except a Hercules, in this position, and always pushes me back and causes my legs to go up in the air, if it does not send me actually on to my back. When 80 yards from a beast I do not mind it, but when within 40 yards or less it is better not to have one’s equilibrium upset in this manner, and I therefore make my gun-bearer sit behind me with his hands within an inch or so of my back to hold me up. This is a capital plan, but on no account must the gun-bearer touch the sportsman’s back, as he might give a slight push just as the trigger is being pressed. I remember once coming rather to grief, and being in a ludicrous though not critical position, owing to my gun-bearer being unable to get behind me. I was out shooting with Dr. Mackinnon at Machako’s on March 30, 1889, and as he had not then killed a rhino and was anxious to do so, we kept together and came across two of them in a capital position. Followed by our gun-bearers we got up to a bush within 60 yards of them, when the Doctor gave the larger one, a cow, a good shot behind the shoulder and another one as she ran away. The second rhino I missed clean with both barrels. After running about a quarter of a mile, they both pulled up close to a bush, and, swaying about two or three times, the wounded one sat down and subsided, looking just as if she was asleep, while the other one stood close by her. Within about 20 yards of them there was a large ant-heap with very steep sides, and as the wind was fair I went round and got up to this heap without the least trouble. After crawling up and peeping over the top, I could only see the nose and front horn of the one standing, to the left of the bush, but I saw that the other one was quite dead. As I did not wish to risk a shot through the bush, I crept round to the left side of the ant-heap, and could then see the head and quite enough neck to afford a good shot; but the difficulty was to get into a steady shooting position, as I could neither stand up nor sit down. I at last managed to squat down on my right heel, with my left leg also tucked up under me, and in this awkward position fired at the beast’s neck. The result was rather more startling than I expected with regard to myself, as I was knocked over by the recoil of the rifle, and sent flying backwards to the bottom of the ant-heap, where I nearly turned a complete somersault, but quickly recovering myself I had the satisfaction of seeing that the rhino was still more completely knocked over than myself.
Among many and varied experiences with East African big game, two rhinoceros fights, of which I was a witness, were perhaps not the least interesting. The first I saw on a short trip from Taveta, with my friend Sir Robert Harvey, to the Rombo and Useri plains early in January 1887. On New Year’s Day we were changing camps from Kampi ya Simba to Rombo, both on the Lumi river, and we each took different beats, Harvey keeping to the plains on the right bank, whilst I took the left bank. Shortly after separating, I managed by great good luck, rather than by good management, to get within about 70 yards of three ostriches, all of which I succeeded in bagging. After skinning them and taking their thighs, the only meat there is on an ostrich, I went on keeping close to the river, and came across a rhino standing in the open; but the ground was so devoid of covert that I could not get nearer than 100 yards, and a shot with the 4-bore struck her too low, as I foolishly forgot to raise the back sight, and only wounded her high up in the forelegs, which, however, soon caused her to settle down into a walk. As she headed for a patch of grass that had not been burnt, with several bushes and ant-heaps dotted about, I kept within 150 yards of her, intending to get nearer when she entered this covert. After she had entered it, I took advantage of a bush and drew up to within 100 yards of her, when another rhino jumped out of the grass where it had been lying to leeward of her, and made straight for her. She, however, heard him (for it was a bull), and whipped round to face him; and so they stood about three yards apart, giving vent to a succession of squeals and low guttural roars, the latter not unlike the roars of a lion. For quite twenty minutes I watched them, and a most interesting sight it was. At first they did not close, but alternately rushed at each other; as each in turn charged, the other backed away, and I observed that neither of them ever raised its head, but held its snout close to the ground, keeping up a continuous roar and squealing the whole time. At last they closed; but not for long, for after a few most violent and vicious digs at each other, they separated and again stood facing. As this sort of thing went on for about a quarter of an hour, their bouts becoming more and more vicious and prolonged, and as they were entirely engrossed in themselves, I exchanged my Express for the 8-bore, and, followed by Ramazan with the 4-bore, crept up to a large ant-heap within 40 yards of them, and lay watching them for another five minutes. How long they would have kept up this fight there is no knowing, but, as it was becoming somewhat monotonous, I whispered to Ramazan that I was going to shoot, and, following his advice, fired at the wounded one, planting a bullet behind her shoulder. The result was rather curious: she dashed at her opponent and attacked him with great fury, this being quite their best ‘round,’ lasting more than a minute, until my shot began to take effect on her, and she had to give way to the now superior strength of the bull. As the cow stood this time with her head held high, snorting blood from her nostrils, she swayed from side to side and then dropped over dead.
The bull went up and stood over her, prodding her in the stomach with his horn, offering me a good broadside shot, which I took, placing a bullet in his shoulder. From his subsequent behaviour one might have imagined that he thought that the defunct cow was the cause of his discomfort, for nothing could have exceeded the furious way in which he attacked her. He dashed at her as she lay on her side, and dug with extraordinary rapidity at her between the forelegs, when I put an end to his ferocity with a bullet in his neck, which dropped him. On going up I found him lying with his head under the uppermost foreleg of the cow, but with the exception of a small jagged wound in her arm-pit, neither of them bore traces of their combat, beyond innumerable white-looking surface scratches on their heads, the sides of their necks, and front of their shoulders. It is quite evident that they held their heads low throughout the encounter on purpose to protect their throats, the softest, and perhaps most vulnerable, parts of their bodies. In this case, as also in the other fight I witnessed, one beast was wounded, and was attacked by an unwounded one.
I think there can be little doubt that when rhinoceroses do fight, it is in a most determined and dogged manner, though it is highly improbable that they ever kill each other. I once shot a rhino which was terribly scored about the face and neck, with several of the abrasions still bleeding. As the grass had been quite lately burnt I followed back on its spoor, which was very distinct, and came to the spot where it had fought with another rhino. The ground for a space of 30 yards showed unmistakable signs of the severe and evidently prolonged combat. It was cut up, and loose stones a foot or more in diameter displaced and scattered in all directions. One large boulder, some 3½ ft. high, near which the encounter seemed to have been most severe, was smeared and splashed with blood. Two or three times I have shot rhinoceroses with only one ear, the other one most probably having been bitten off in a fight.
The following experience with a rhinoceros has the merit of being a curious one, though attended by absolutely no danger to myself.
Having successfully stalked three rhinoceroses—a bull, a cow, and a three-parts-grown calf—all standing together, I gave the bull a shot behind the shoulder, which knocked him down. I was so certain he was shot through the lungs, and would not go far, that I did not fire again when he picked himself up and galloped off. In this I was mistaken, as he went away across the open plain apparently unhurt, the other two going off in another direction. As I sat down on an ant-heap, feeling by no means pleased with myself, I watched the bull for a long time, and saw him pull up about two miles off and walk under the shade of what I took at the distance to be a low bush, close to the bank of a dry watercourse. On following him up, keeping along the watercourse, I got within about 500 yards of him, and made out that he was in reality standing in the shade cast by a table-topped mimosa-tree which was growing in the bed of the watercourse, and that he was within a few feet of the edge of the bank, which was quite precipitous and some ten feet high.