Hunters three: Sport and adventure in South Africa

by Thomas Wallace Knox

Of course we were all eager to go in pursuit of that beast, and hurried on to camp as fast as we could. I was the first to see the elephant, and therefore the choice of first shot was given to me. I took my heaviest rifle, buckled my cartridge-case around my waist, and started in the direction of the elephant, Mirogo and Kalil following, with instructions not to keep too close to me—an instruction which they were very likely to obey; in fact, I think they would have preferred to remain in camp and hear about the hunt later. Harry and Jack kept about a quarter of a mile behind me, ready to bear a hand in case of necessity.

The beast was there just as we had left him, not having moved a yard. Not another elephant was in sight, and I speedily made up my mind that the creature was what is called a "rogue." Perhaps you do not know what a rogue elephant is. Well, he is an elephant that for some reason—nobody knows why—has become separated from his herd, and is not allowed to rejoin it. Should he seek to come into any herd of elephants, all will turn upon him and drive him away. He seems to be an outcast, like a man who has been cut by all his acquaintances and is positively forbidden to enter decent society anywhere. All the other elephants seem to know him, and shun him. When elephants are driven into a corral and captured, if a rogue happens to be among them, the captives, while caressing and condoling with one another, keep as far as possible away from the unfortunate pariah.

Whether his temper has been injured by this treatment, or whether the treatment has been caused by his bad temper, I am unable to say; but certain it is that the rogue elephant is far more vicious than the herd elephant. In cultivated regions, where the elephants sometimes destroy the gardens of the natives by coming in the night and eating up growing things, a rogue elephant will do ten times as much damage as any other; and when it comes to fighting, he will fight as long as breath remains.

Fully convinced that the animal which I was after belonged to the rogue species, I approached him with great caution. I was careful in getting to leeward of him, to prevent his catching my wind; and it so happened that a leeward position placed the trunk of the tree between me and the creature's head. There was an advantage and a disadvantage in this. The advantage was that he could not sight me, while there was this disadvantage—that I was cut off from my favorite shot. The reader already knows that my favorite place for planting a heavy bullet in an elephant is between the eye and ear. I was cut off from this by the tree, and the next best shot I could get was behind the shoulder.

My horse entered into the spirit of the business very well; he saw the elephant and knew what I was after. I had some difficulty in repressing in him a desire to snort, which would have aroused the game at once and revealed his danger. I patted him on the neck and encouraged him, and he kept on until I was within about thirty-five yards of the tree.

I dismounted, took steady aim just back of the fore-shoulder, and fired. Then, without waiting to see the effect of my shot, I sprang into the saddle; my horse whirled as if on a pivot, and darted away as fast as his legs could carry him.

The elephant's being behind the tree, and obliged to turn to come out from beneath it, gave me a little start, but not much. I think that just about as my horse began his flight the elephant started on in pursuit. He trumpeted viciously. I looked back over my shoulder, and saw his trunk elevated in the air, and the animal coming on at full speed. The ground at this point was pretty nearly level, and comparatively free from bushes or other growths. Glancing back every few moments, I could see that the elephant was gaining on me, and I must try some sort of tactics to escape him.

An eighth of a mile or so away to the right there was a little hill; I pulled on my bridle-rein and made for the hill. "If I can get to that hill all right," I said to myself, "I'll have this old brute in a box."

I reached the hill, and as I went up the elephant lost distance. In an uphill chase a horse, even with a rider, can out-run an elephant; but when it is a downhill race the elephant has the best of it.

When about half-way up the hill I checked my horse a little, so as to let my pursuer get nearer. Then I turned and went around the hill, the elephant following me. A side-hill is not a good place for a man to run upon, nor is it good for horse or elephant; but it is much worse for the elephant than for either of the other two.