It has always been the custom amongst hunters that he who draws first blood from any animal—even if it is only a scratch—is entitled to the beast when subsequently killed. It is a good law on the whole, but there are many instances where it is scarcely justified—that is to say, when the first shooter has done little beyond slightly injuring the animal, if a dangerous one, and the second hunter has stood "all the racket," and killed the beast at the risk of his life. Here is such an example given to me by Sir Alfred Pease:—
"I lent my rifle (a ·256 Mannlicher) to a friend, also my horse to gallop and 'round up' a lion, whilst I kept watch on a bush where another had hidden, not being able—owing to dongas—to get round him. My friend soon jumped off and fired two or three shots at the first lion, which worked round and came and lay down under a thin thorn-bush less than a hundred yards from my position. I then went towards the bush and the lion charged me. I fired twice with a 10-bore gun at about sixty and fifteen yards, and the beast—a very fine black-maned lion—fell dead to my second barrel.
"My friend now came up, and to my disgust said excitedly, 'My lion!' I said, 'Mine, I think?' He said, 'No; I had first blood!' I had no idea the lion had been hit, but when we examined him there was a ·256 hole in his back ribs. I was rather sore, as I had stood the racket; but it was the rule. I killed the second lion in a quarter of an hour. We did not quarrel, however, and he gave my daughter the skin of the first lion, which was nice of him."
However, if he did kill a considerable but not a remarkable number of lions, Selous will always remain the greatest authority on the subject, for in his numerous writings he has given us accounts of sport and natural history in connection with this animal that are quite unequalled by any other writer. In all the descriptions and the accounts of its habits he accumulated a vast mass of material, mostly new and original—which is without a blemish, without a single incorrect statement. These writings by Selous, especially his admirable notes in "African Nature Notes and Reminiscences," and the small monograph on "The Lion," by Sir Alfred Pease, constitute a complete record of the natural history and sport connected with this interesting animal.
To clever and broad-minded people in other lands it may be a wonder that so excellent a field naturalist as Selous was not granted a State allowance, to pursue his work as a pioneer and naturalist, so as to relieve him of the constant strain on his slender resources. We know that in France, Germany, Austria, Italy, America and Japan such a thing would have been done long ago; but foreigners have no knowledge of our various Governments' neglect of science, or of the miserable pittances they allowed to the various scientific bodies for such a purpose in this country. Heaven alone knows what inventions, amounting in value to vast sums, have been literally driven out of England by this abominable stinginess, and sold to other countries, which in time became our deadliest enemies in trade and war. And so in turn our scientific societies, each and all of which considered their own branch the most important, have pursued a policy of neglect and jealousy towards all young workers in whatever branch they showed exceptional originality.
The officials of the British Museum are poorly paid, and they and the Zoological Society, having little or no money to expend on researches of importance in foreign lands, have to go and beg from the general public whenever any expedition is being sent abroad.
In America, where matters are worked on broad-minded principles, field zoology is now recognized as being as important as purely scientific zoology, and ample funds are given to all genuine collectors outside the body corporate, and the advancement of general knowledge is all that is desired. The result is that more excellent work in this branch of science is being done to-day in New York and Washington than in all other countries. It is true they have ample funds for such purposes and these are generously distributed; but there are no jealous cliques there, and the spirit in which the work is done is wholly admirable.
Perhaps the only scientific society that has received great monetary help is the Royal Geographical Society, and when Arctic or Antarctic expeditions are launched the public has always responded magnificently. I have often wondered why, for beyond the individual effort of bravery on the part of the gallant members of these expeditions, the scientific and material results of these expeditions are very small compared with those of one well-conducted expedition to Central Asia or Africa, which in time has often given considerable scientific results, as well as knowledge of new countries that have become the homes of white men. From the time of Denham and Clapperton to Selous what has ever been done for our African explorers? Absolutely nothing. These grand men have taken quite as great risks as Arctic or Antarctic travellers, have explored thousands of square miles of new country and done it all out of their own pockets, often ruining themselves in purse and health. An Antarctic expedition costs the British nation anything from £30,000 to £50,000, and its leaders receive knighthoods, and other official distinctions, but we never heard Livingstone called anything but a wandering missionary, or Selous aught but a big game hunter; nor has any Government taken the smallest notice of them. Yet these two men, by their courage, tact in dealing with natives, personal influence, skill in mapping and eventual advice to those in authority, did more, both for Science and the Empire, than all the expeditions to the wildernesses of perpetual snow and ice.
It must not be supposed that Selous, had he wished, could not have obtained some of these material rewards which are valued by most men. He was not without influential friends, both at home and in Africa, but his natural modesty forbade him to make use of them. One man above all others should have made it his duty to have helped him, but let us see how he acted.
Cecil Rhodes was a big man—big in almost every way except in the matter of gratitude—and when he found that Selous was—to use an Americanism—such an "easy mark," he exploited him to the limit of his capacity. Rhodes knew that without Selous' immense local knowledge and tact with the native Mashuna chiefs his best-laid schemes might go astray, so he played on his patriotism, and promised him many things, not one of which he ever performed.