A few days afterward they came to a part of the forest where pineapples grew in abundance. The njokoos were resting, when suddenly there appeared before them a huge ngina with his mate. At this sight they fled, trumpeting sharply; the nginas answered with a loud roar, and for protection ascended a big tree. The njokoos had never heard such a roaring since they had entered the forest, and were much frightened, and thought they never had seen such ugly human beings before, and they fled, breaking before them everything that was in their way. They had no time to trumpet, they fled so fast. At last, after ascending and descending several steep mountains, they stopped, for they were almost out of breath, and said: “Those are terrible human beings that we have seen. What voices they had! How frightful they were to look at!”
But in the course of time they became acquainted with the different animals of the forest, and were no more afraid of the men of the woods.
It came to pass one day that the njokoos reached one of the prairies found in the forest. Their chief went to reconnoitre, and as he came to the border of the forest, he saw, some distance away, some human beings, and a njokoo lying dead near them. He was himself hidden by the trees and looked on, his eyes wide open with astonishment and wonder. He saw one of the human beings cut the tail off the dead njokoo, then two others crush his head and remove his two tusks, while another was taking off part of his hide, and two others were cutting his body to pieces. The hide was for shields and the pieces of his flesh were for food, the tail for a trophy, and the tusks for barter.
Silently he looked on and then said to himself, “Now I know why the human beings hate us and make war upon us.” Then he went back into the forest and told the other njokoos what he had seen, and from that time they wandered in the thickest part of the forest and were more shy of the human beings than ever.
Several years passed away. One dry season the swampy lands made by the overflowing of rivers during the rainy season became dry. The njokoos crossed the swamps and one day found on their way two skeletons of njokoos that had been bogged the year before and had not been able to get out. Their big tusks were still fastened in their skulls. The njokoos looked sadly at the skeletons and said, “Here lie the bones of two fellow njokoos.” Then they uttered low trumpetings of grief and mournfully continued on their way, mistrusting, however, the dry swamps. The skeletons belonged to two njokoos that had taken refuge in these bog lands, as they were hotly pursued by human beings.
After wandering for a number of days, the herd came to another prairie. “Let us cross and go to the forest beyond, for we scent water,” said they. “It is a river, and it is a long time since we have had a good swim.” Halfway over they felt very warm, for it was exceedingly hot, the rays of the sun being very powerful. They saw four big trees growing close together, and said, “Let us go under those trees and rest.”
They had not been long under the trees when they saw many njokoos coming out of the forest almost opposite to where they stood. They were led by a huge bull, who looked very vicious and fierce and had very large tusks, bigger than those of their own leader.
As soon as the njokoos under the trees saw the new-comers, they were very much excited; their bodies swayed quickly to and fro; they flapped their ears and switched their tails. Their leader and protector uttered a peculiar and piercing trumpeting which was heard by the other njokoos. It was a blast of defiance to the other leader, a trumpeting daring him to come and fight. Immediately the other answered the challenge. Then the two left their herds and stalked slowly forward, trumpeting fearfully as they approached each other. The herds on each side were looking placidly at the chiefs who had been their leaders for a long time. The two at first had walked slowly, then faster, then they stopped and looked at each other, all the while keeping up their dreadful trumpeting. At last they rushed together. Their small pig-like eyes looked treacherous and wicked. They butted, then they charged each other. By quick motions they tried to pierce each other’s flanks with their tusks, for their sides in such a fight are their vulnerable points. They fought at times with their heads downward, and gave terrible knocks to each others heads. At the same time they tried to seize each other’s trunks. Sometimes they succeeded in doing this, but after a while they had to let go. When they charged each other, often the tusks of one would graze the body of the other and lacerate the thick hide.
At last the leader of the njokoos that had emerged from the forest began to show signs of exhaustion. When his antagonist saw this, he renewed his attacks with greater fury. Suddenly, by a dexterous movement, he succeeded in plunging his tusks into the body of his enemy who, instead of fleeing, preferred to die fighting. As he fell he uttered a low moan of pain, then dropped dead.
The victorious njokoo, uttering trumpetings of pride, rejoined his followers under the trees, and all approached the smaller herd, who then chose the victor for their leader. Thus the two herds became one, and, this done, they repaired to the river and bathed in its waters and had a grand time together.