They at the camp had now a full view of him, at less than three hundred yards distant. An immense mass he seemed. His body quite filled the gorge from side to side, and his long yellow tusks projecting more than two yards from his jaws, curved gracefully upward. He was an “old bull,” as Swartboy whispered.
Up to this time the rhinoceros had not had the slightest intimation of the elephant's approach; for the tread of the latter—big beast as he is—is as silent as a cat's. It is true that a loud rumbling noise like distant thunder proceeded from his inside as he moved along; but the kobaoba was in too high a caper just then to have heard or noticed any sound that was not very near and distinct.
The huge body of the elephant coming suddenly into “his sunshine,” and flinging its dark shadow over the vley, was distinct enough, and caused the kobaoba to get to his feet with an agility quite surprising for a creature of his build.
At the same time a noise, something between a grunt and a whistle escaped him, as the water was ejected from his nostrils.
The elephant also uttered his peculiar salute, in a trumpet note, that echoed from the cliffs; and halted in his tracks as soon as he saw the rhinoceros.
No doubt both were surprised at the rencontre; as both stood for some seconds eyeing each other with apparent astonishment.
This, however, soon gave place to a different feeling. Symptoms of anger began to show themselves. It was evident that bad blood was brewing between them.
There was, in fact, a little dilemma. The elephant could not get comfortably at the water unless the rhinoceros left the cove; and the rhinoceros could not well get out of the cove, so long as the elephant blocked up the gorge with his immense thick limbs.
It is true, the kobaoba might have sneaked through among the other's legs, or he might have swum off and landed at some other point, and in either way have left the coast clear.
But of all animals in the world a rhinoceros is, perhaps, the most unaccommodating. He is, also, one of the most fearless, dreading neither man nor beast—not even the boasted lion, whom he often chases like a cat. Hence the old kobaoba had no intention of yielding ground to the elephant; and from his attitude, it was plain that he neither intended to sneak off under the other's belly, nor swim a single stroke for him. No—not a stroke.