Horns of Central African Eland.

HORNS OF THE ELAND.

In external appearance this African elk exhibits varieties as great as the hartebeest and other common species of antelopes, and on this account it seems to claim some detailed notice. In zoological gardens it is very rare to find two individual examples exactly alike, and the greatest diversity is observable in the shape of the horns; as instances of this, I may refer to the representation here introduced of two pairs of horns which I have selected from my collection, and which may be taken as examples of the two most extreme forms that came under my notice. They are about a yard in length, the pair that is more divergent making only one spiral turn, while the other makes a turn and a half. All the elands that I saw had extremely short sleek hair of a bright yellow tan colour verging on the flanks to a light bay; the mane was black and erect, being about three inches long. In every district through which I travelled I observed their skin to be always marked in well-defined stripes, which are not, as some travellers have supposed, to be taken as indications of the youth of the animal: I have seen full grown specimens that were marked on each side of the body with no less than fifteen parallel stripes, about as wide as one’s finger, of a pure white running from the black line of the back transversely down to the middle of the belly, which is often marked with a large black spot. The flesh of the eland ranks amongst the better kinds of antelope-meat, and as quite as palatable as that of the hartebeest.

We encamped about a league from our suspension-bridge, in the midst of a splendid wilderness, where, in spite of the torrents of rain, I passed a night of entire comfort in my warm nest of grass. A little way to the north of our encampment there was a small gneiss hill called Manga. Before halting for the night we had crossed two brooks, which with a supply of water alike copious and rapid hastened on to join the river at no great distance away; the first of these, the Mokungudduly, rippled along over smooth blocks of gneiss, and was bordered by flower-bespangled meadows that, stretching onwards in a forest glade, were watered besides by countless springs.

The march of eight leagues that lay before us would pass through an unbroken forest, and required us to make an early start upon the following morning; accordingly when we set out we found the whole wood veiled in mist and the ground yet reeking with the heavy dew. The forest flora continually tempted me to deviate to either side of the pathway. My interest was especially attracted by the splendid Encephalartus, which seemed abundant throughout the district. Amongst other new types of plants which met my notice was the Tithymalus, one of the cabbage-like euphorbiæ, the first that I had seen throughout the entire region. A large variety of conspicuous shrubs, many of them covered with fine blossoms, gave the forest almost the aspect of an artificial park; one of the most frequent of these (worthy indeed to be designated as a tree) was the Parinarium polyantherum, remarkable alike for its great trusses of white blossoms and for its polished leaves, which are thick and yet brittle.

No less than eight running streams had to be crossed during this march: the three first joined the Tondy, the rest being tributary to the Lehssy. The third brook was called the Baziah, the fifth the Ulidyatibba; succeeding this, and enclosed by walls of gneiss, came the Lehssindah.

THE MOROKOH.

About a league to the right of our path, and to the south of the place where we forded the Lehssindah, rose several gneiss hills, of which the two highest peaks were called Ndimoh and Bondoh. Our route had hitherto been quite level, and apparently at a considerable height above the valley of the Tondy; but it now began to descend for a couple of leagues to the Morokoh. This wide and rapid stream flowed through a tray-like valley surrounded by open grass-plains that sloped downwards on either side to the meanderings of the water. In front of us, to the east, the whole country had a gentle but regular elevation, for looking over the right bank of the Lehssy we could make out the locality in which the union would have to be sought of the chain of the Zilëi mountains in Mondoo with those that extend between the Tondy and the Roah.

The scenery of the steep declivity towards the south-west which we now reached assumed a character very different to the park-like landscape through which we had been passing. For many miles the eye rested upon treeless steppes broken by bamboo jungles that seemed almost impenetrable, standing in detached groups, their dark olive-green contrasting admirably with the bright hue of the grass, and giving a novelty to the general aspect. Immediately beyond the Morokoh our path began to rise, and led us into the semi-obscurity of one of these jungles.