Writing His Adventures While They're Hot
He told a funny story about John L. Sullivan, who came to the White House to intercede for a nephew who had got into trouble in the navy. John L. told what a nice woman the boy's mother was and what a terrible disgrace it would be for himself and his family if the boy was dropped from the navy. "Why, if he hadn't gone into the navy he might have turned out very bad," said John L.; "taken up music or something like that."
We also told him that some of the American papers were keeping score on the game he had killed, and that whenever the cable reported a new victim the score up to date would be published like a base-ball percentage table. In the last report he was quoted as having killed seven lions, while Kermit had killed ten. This seemed to amuse him very much, although the figures were not strictly accurate. His score was nine and Kermit's eight up to date. He was also amused by the habit the American papers have of calling him "Bwana Tumbo," which means "The Master with the Stomach," a title that did not fit him nearly so appropriately then as it might have done before he began his active days in the hunting field. He said, so far as he knew, the porters called him "Bwana Mkubwa," which means "Great Master," and is applied to the chief man of a safari, regardless of who or what he is. It is merely a title that is always used to designate the boss. We told him that many natives we had met would invariably refer to him as the Sultana Mkubwa, or Great Sultan, because they had heard that he was a big chief from America.
He also laughingly quoted the attitude of Wall Street as expressed in the statement that they "hoped every lion would do his duty."
Later, in speaking generally of the odd experiences he had had in Africa, he spoke of one that will surely be regarded as a nature fake when he tells it. It was an experience that he and Cuninghame had with a big bull giraffe which they approached as it slept. When they were within ten feet of it it opened its eyes and stared at them. A slight movement on their part caused it to strike out with its front foot, but without rising. Then, as they made no offensive moves, it continued to regard them sleepily and without fear. Even when they threw sticks at it it refused to budge, and it was only after some time that it was chased away, where it came to a stop only fifty yards off.
"I suppose W.J. Long will call that a nature fake," he said, "and I wish that I had had a camera with me so that I could have photographed it. I'm afraid they won't believe Cuninghame, because they don't know him."
In the course of the luncheon the conversation ranged from politics, public men, his magazine work, some phases of Illinois politics, as involved in the recent senatorial election, his future plans of the present African trip and many of the little experiences he had had since arriving in the country. Much that was said was of such frankness, particularly as to public men, as to be obviously confidential.
Kermit Led the Way to the Elephant Camp
