In the Wilds of Africa

by William Henry Giles Kingston

It was quite dark when we got home. Our anxiety for the return of Stanley prevented any of us from going to bed. Three hours had passed away since nightfall, and still he did not make his appearance. I saw that Kate was becoming very anxious—indeed I could not help feeling so myself. At last I proposed to Timbo that we should go out and try and find him.

“Dat I will, Massa Andrew,” he answered. “Dough he not let me go wid him, he no say dat I not to come afterwards.”

With our rifles in our hands, and our long knives at our belts, we sallied forth.

“Thank you, Andrew,” said Kate, as I was going out. “I cannot help fearing that some accident may have happened to Stanley, and you will do your utmost to find him. I am sure you will.”

Timbo, who had several times accompanied his master to the village I have spoken of, was tolerably certain of the direction we should take. As we walked on, feeling our way in difficult places with the long poles we carried in our hands, our ears were assailed by the screeching of night-birds and the occasional roars and mutterings of wild beasts. A feeling of awe gradually crept over me, produced by the wild sounds and the peculiar scenery through which we were passing. On one side rose the hills, with dark rocks cropping out amidst the thick foliage; while, on the other, the river flowed by with a murmuring sound, reflecting the bright stars from the dark sky overhead. Far away to the right were sombre forests, with openings here and there, across which phantom forms were seen flitting to and fro, though so indistinct were they that we could not tell what animals they might be.

“I t’ink we get near where de captain come to shoot,” said Timbo in a low voice. “We go slow now, and take care dat no lion or ’noceros see us.”

We moved on, but could hear no sounds. Presently we saw, a little way below us, the stream of which we were in search.

“Can the captain have left it, and passed us on the way?” I whispered to Timbo. We were now close down to the stream. “What is that?” I asked, pointing to a huge mass on the opposite side. “Surely there lies the body of an elephant; and what are those creatures near us on the left?”

“Dey leopards,” whispered limbo. “De captain hab been here and killed dem, no doubt about dat.”

Just as he was speaking, emerging from a clump of low wood, there appeared directly before us a magnificent lion. The creature stopped and lifted up his head, moving his tail slowly to and fro, as if about to spring forward. Now he crept on and on. Presently he uttered a loud roar. I stepped back, instinctively bringing my rifle to my shoulder; but at that moment there was the flash of a gun, and a loud report came, apparently out of the ground close in front of us, and the huge lion sprang high up into the air. Scarcely, however, had the report ceased echoing in our ears, than from another clump, a little way on our right, I caught sight of an enormous rhinoceros, who seemed at that moment to have discovered that he had an enemy close to him. I felt sure it was Stanley who had fired. I shouted out to him. He answered me, “All right!” not apparently perceiving the approach of a new assailant. On dashed the huge rhinoceros, dipping his snout, as he descended into the water, beneath the surface, his eyes alone remaining above it. He was making directly for where I supposed Stanley lay hid. There was no time for him to reload, and I felt sure that the monster would gore him or trample over his body. I had never prided myself on my shooting, but I felt now or never was the time to take steady aim, or the life of my cousin might be sacrificed, while Timbo and I, indeed, were placed in no little danger. Aiming at the creature’s head, near its left eye, I fired. Instantly it rose up, uttering a loud bellow, but still came floundering on across the stream. “Up, Stanley, up!” I shouted out. “Timbo, do you fire, or the captain may be killed!” Timbo drew his trigger. Again the creature was hit, but still his progress was not stopped. Wading or swimming, it had just reached the bank, close to where Stanley lay. Again I shrieked out to him. He was attempting to reload without getting up, for which, indeed, he had not time. In another instant I expected to see the sharp horn of the rhinoceros plunged into his side, when it suddenly stopped and rolled over into the stream.