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WILD GAME IN ZAMBEZIA

Photo by Wexelsen..

THE LUPATA GORGE.

Frontispiece.

WILD GAME IN
ZLAMBEZIA

By R. C. F. MAUGHAM
F.RGS., F.2Z58., FRCL, Erc.
H.B.M. CONSUL-GENERAL FOR THE REPUBLIC OF LIBERIA

AUTHOR OF ‘‘ PORTUGUESE EAST AFRICA” ‘'ZAMBEZIA”
‘A HANDBOOK OF CHI-MAKUA” ETC.

WITH MAP AND ILLUSTRATIONS

LONDON
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W.
1QTt4

fal
%

vi PREFACE

“No, but I got a ripping Connochetes albo-
jubatus.”

And so on.

Therefore, as books destined for the hands
of the general reader should, in my opinion,
exclude matter and terms only intelligible to
persons possessed of special knowledge, I have
carefully omitted scientific names and references
from my pages, with the exception of my chapter
dealing with tsetse flies, where a rigid adherence
to this rule might have imperilled the clearness
of my text. It will even be observed that the
animals are not grouped in their respective
families, but follow each other very much in
the same order as in the mind of the un-
scientific reader.

My object in drawing attention to Zambezia
as a hunting centre is twofold. First of all, I
desire to place before my shooting contemporaries
opportunities of spending a delightful and highly
profitable holiday in a portion of the African
continent but little mentioned in connection
with the pursuit of game, and thus enable them
to garner in their memories pleasing recollections
of a district whose name is all too seldom upon
the tongues of men; and secondly, I write
largely out of a feeling of gratitude for the much
kindness and hospitality I have received at the
hands of its courteous colonists of all nation-
alities.

It will perhaps be noticed that I have done
my best to make this a work descriptive of the
animals, and not of their slaughter. A few

PREFACE vii

instances will be found of the shooting of certain
of the larger types, but I have endeavoured to
subordinate actual hunting, which every sports-
man must conduct for himself according to his
own ideas, to a simple description of the various
members of the game families, their habits and
surroundings, drawn from my field notebooks
and my recollections of them, the greater part
of my manuscript having been written very
near to the scenes which it imperfectly describes.
I trust, therefore, it will be found sufficiently
up to date to be of some slight value, not only
to my many hunting friends in various parts of
the world, but to those numerous representatives
of a virile younger generation of sportsmen
already knocking imperiously at the door.

In the preparation of this volume I have
derived much assistance and refreshment of
memory from my friend Major Stevenson-
Hamilton’s excellent work, Animal Life in Africa,
whilst to the most accomplished photographer
and sportsman of my acquaintance, Mr. G.
Garden of Mlanje, Nyasaland, my grateful thanks
are due for his excellent photographs, as for his
kind permission to publish them. Lastly, I
wish to express my indebtedness for my picture,
“A Fine Bag of Lions,” to Mr. R. Wuilleumier,
sometime British Consular Agent at Quelimane.

R. C. F. MAUGHAM.

British ConsutaTE GENERAL,
Liseria, 1913.

SIL.
XIII.
XIV.

XV.
XVI.

CONTENTS

IntRopucTorY 3 - j

. ZAMBEZIA:! WHERE IT Is, AND WHAT IT LOOKS LIKF ,

Tue ELepHantT ‘ si a‘

. Rutwoceros—HirropoTamus
. Burrato—Zesra—ELaxp—SaBLE—Roan

. Kupu—Warer-Buck —WILDEBEESTE — Har TEBEESTE

—TSsESSEBE ' , ; i ‘

. InyaLta—Bususpuck—ReEepBuck—ImpaLa—Dtmer—

Livincstone’s ANTELOPE—Or1iBI—KLIPsPRINGER
—STEENBUCK . : ‘

Tue Fresu-Eaters: Lion—Lroparp—Lynx

. Fiesu-Eaters (continued): CHeetan — Hyexa—

JackaL— Huntinc Doo — Servat — Crvet —
GeENET— MuNGOOSE 5 P : -

. Tue Pics—Porcurpinse—AntT-Brar—Honey Bapcer

—Ortrers—Hares—Rock Rassit—Giant Rat

—Scaty Ant-EaTer

. THe Monkeys

CrocoDILEs—SNAKES—SoME OTHER REPTILES
Rirtes—Camp EquipMeNntT—GENERAL Hints

Birps anp Birp SHooTine . : ‘ e
Tsetrse-FLy—Game Reserves :

GENERAL RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION .

INDEX

195

xii LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

FACING PAGE

JACKAL : ‘ ; ; ‘ : . 208
Huntine Doce ; ‘ : ‘ : . 208
CIveT ‘ ‘ ; 7 5 . 216
Wip Cat . : : : : i 216
WartTHoc . i : : : ; . 220
Busurigs . : 2 : , 5 . 224
PorcuPINE . : : : : ‘ . 226
Honey Bapcer : : ‘ S . 282
CrocovILe . ; ; : : ‘ . 260
Resutts or a Montn’s Huntine . ‘ : . 316

Map or ZAMBEZIA : : ‘ ‘ ‘ 1

Missing Page

WILD GAME IN ZAMBEZIA

CHAPTER I
INTRODUCTORY

It may be taken as a melancholy but undoubted
fact that, with the exception of a few remote
and restricted areas, there are no portions of
the southern halt of the African continent con-
taining anything like those vast quantities of
game which more than fifty years ago moved
one of the greatest of African hunters to write
that “‘the multitude of living creatures, at
certain seasons and localities, surpassed the
bounds of imagination.” The Cape Province,
Natal, the Orange Free State, Bechuanaland,
and many other immense expanses of country are
almost denuded of wild game, whilst over wide
portions of Rhodesia, we are told, its destruction
has been permitted to an extent which seems
to border dangerously on recklessness.

Even in the formerly populous game districts
of Mashonaland and Matabeleland the herds are
retiring and growing scarcer year by year—
seeking sanctuary, as it were, in remoter fast-
nesses, from the daily encroaching advance of
civilisation, of high-velocity rifles, and copper-
capped bullets. Assuredly if there was ever a

2 A NATURAL CLOSE SEASON

time whereat the preservation of the beautitul
varieties now growing rarer and rarer in the
more accessible portions of the great continent
was indicated, it is the present; and although
I am happy to be able in some measure to con-
gratulate both British and Portuguese foresight
in having established game reserves in Nyasa-
land, the Transvaal, the Province of Mozam-
bique and elsewhere, it seems doubtful whether
we have done all that we might to secure the
safety and preservation of the great game
families as a whole.

That is the entire question. Their preserva-
tion, and how best to compass it. During the
last ten or fifteen years much has been accom-
plished in this direction, but more remains to
be done both at the present time and in the
future. Of course, as will be easily understood
by the large majority of those for whom these
pages are written, the hunting of big game is
an extremely absorbing pursuit, and one which,
in the absence of due regulation, would no doubt
be abused by many. Nature herself was the
first to impose restraint, and a formidable one
it is. Thus in Zambezia for fully six months
of every year, namely, from January to July,
hunting is attended by the almost insurmount-
able difficulties presented by the immense height
of the unburned grasses, and the impassable
luxuriance of the summer vegetation. It is
not, therefore, until the earth has cleansed
itself by fire of the huge burden left by the hot
rainy season that the hunter can commence

RESERVES 3

operations; added to this, from October to
May the climatic conditions are well-nigh in-
supportable, and it thus follows that the breeding
season of many of the varieties found falls within
the period last mentioned. But, as I have so
repeatedly stated and written, what is required
is a more extended system of inviolable game
reserves, a more coherent method of enforcing
regulations enacted, and more efficient machinery
for bringing offenders against existing game laws
betore the authorities empowered to punish
misdeeds. In Nyasaland, I believe, the regula-
tions in force are given effect to by a sufficient
personnel both European and native, so that
transgression is almost certain now to result in
the infliction of the penalty prescribed; but if
one might be permitted to criticise the measures
adopted within the Portuguese Sphere of In-
fluence, one would be forced to say that, although
the law in itself is well imagined—well drawn
up, its enforcement at the hands of wardens,
rangers, verderers, or whatever we may please
to call them, is not sufficiently stringent. My
view of the case is that from the date of the
creation of a reserve tor the preservation of
game, no person whomsoever should under any
pretext be permitted to discharge a firearm
within its limits except for the purpose of ex-
terminating therein such predatory forms as
may constitute a danger to the game beasts it
contains. I think if the importance of this rule
were more widely understood and appreciated,
many persons who now permit themselves to

4 PENALTIES FOR ABUSES

accept (and sometimes to solicit) privileges in
the nature of complimentary permits to shoot
in game reserves would not only abstain from
the discredit of asking for such a concession, but
would set their faces rigorously against it if
offered, as well as sedulously discourage its
acceptance by their friends or colleagues or
subordinates. In this way much might be done
to create a feeling of recognition of the inviola-
bility of the reserves, as also of the desirability
of sparing no effort to secure in other parts of
the various colonies a timely extension of the
safeguards now provided by them.

The man who furnishes himself with a number
of irresistible high-velocity rifles, and fares
forth into the haunts of Africa’s splendid fauna
intent only on numerical destruction, and with
never a thought for the perpetuation of the
varieties of which he is in pursuit, should either
be placed under restraint altogether, or so bound
down that, by the slaughter of one beast over
and above a reasonable and restricted limit, he
should be faced by penalties calculated in their
severity to act as a complete deterrent in the
cases of others contemplating a like offence.

Whilst we are on this subject it is interesting
and instructive to find that within the last
year or two a new school of sport has arisen,
and has shown signs of attaining to popular
dimensions: a sport which will doubtless not
only add vastly to our knowledge of African
mammals as a whole, but whose enjoyment in
no way threatens to strike at the existence of

CAMERA SPORTSMEN 5

the interesting families with which it connects
itself. I refer to the Camera Sportsman—to
that small but growing section of nature lovers
which has arisen to demonstrate a new sport,
and one which does not always entail the use of
the rifle. One of its most recent apostles, Mr.
Radclyffe Dugmore has published a splendid
work upon the subject, magnificently illustrated
by a collection of telephotographs and flashlight
pictures of startling fidelity to nature. They
form a convincing testimony to the sport and
excitement obtainable with little loss of animal
life, and although it would be fatuous to imagine
that for many years to come the example of
this artist-sportsman will be very widely followed,
still it is a development which promises much,
as well from the point of view of game preserva-
tion as from that of adding greatly, as I have
said, to our knowledge of wild beasts as they
exist from day to day.

In the preface to his book Mr. Dugmore says
that ‘‘ the life of any animal, be it bird or beast,
is far more interesting than its dead body,”
and he adds that he knows many men who a
few years ago devoted their holidays to shooting,
but who now find greater pleasure and interest
in hunting with a camera, whilst the excitement
and difficulty are far greater. With these views
I entirely concur, although I am not sanguine
enough to suppose that the sport of great game
hunting simply for photography is one which is
likely to attract many beyond those who, like
myself, have already had a fairly liberal share

2

6 EXTENSION OF GAME RESERVES

of the more tangible sport which one seeks
with a cordite rifle.

But to return for a moment to the question
of reserves. What is required now is a rigorous
safeguarding of existing beasts by an extended
system of game reserves, so selected as, in the
first place, to prove suitable centres for the
conservation and propagation of many widely
differing groups, and, in the second, sufficiently
far removed from occupied centres as to eliminate
the probability of their encroaching upon agri-
cultural or other pursuits. It seems to me that
for centuries to come the portions of the African
continent which present the most suitable appear-
ance for being thus utilised are those which can
best be spared for the purpose. The slow tide
of European immigration now setting sluggishly
towards these vast waste places of the earth is
not likely, for many generations to come, to
have much effect upon the game-carrying capacity
of the districts as'a whole; and although con-
ditions occasionally change rapidly in such
centres as British East Africa, for example, and
in others to which public attention is directed
for some specific reason, or for the exploitation
of some form of industry capable of great
extension, still it must not be forgotten that
British East Africa fortunately stands in a very
unique position, not only in regard to her
enormous extent, but to the immense areas of
healthy uplands with which she is endowed.
Did we seek for a further reason for our con-
gratulations, it would doubtless be found to

BELATED PRESERVATION 7

consist in the fact that this rising colony has
already very fully grasped and realised the
important duties she owes to her magnificent
and diversified game families.

In the States of the South African Union,
or such of them as have devoted attention to
game preservation, most important results have
already been obtained. Had our efforts in this
direction only been made twenty years earlier,
we should have been able to save from extinction
at least one interesting form which, years ago,
occurred in great numbers. I refer to that
singular dun-coloured horse, the quagga. This
has gone from among us, completely exter-
minated, it is said, by the rifles of the South
African farmers.1. Only just in time came the
existing game restrictions to perpetuate that
fascinating form, the black wildebeeste, com-
paratively few of which remain. <A few elephants
and buffaloes survive in a state of strict pre-
servation in the Knysna Forest and in the
Addo Bush near Port Elizabeth; but it is, I
consider, most unfortunate that more was not
done years ago in the Cape Colony and elsewhere
to establish refugees for the protection of such
families as the brilliant-coloured bontebok and
others which have dwindled to a point dangerously
near to complete disappearance.

At the present time, in various parts of
British East Africa, one of the most astonishing
sights the world can offer to modern travellers

1The same may be said of that near relation of the roan
antelope, formerly called the blaaubok, but now entirely extinct.

8 EXISTING GAME

is that of thousands of animals, usually seen only
in a well-organised zoological collection, walking
tranquilly about in the bright upland sunshine.
At those points whereat they are most commonly
seen the grass is so short, through continuous
grazing, as in no wayto interfere with the spectacle
of multitudes of zebras, of gazelles, and of count-
less other game beasts which pay scarcely any
attention to the railway train as it shrieks
through their midst. It is, I understand, no
infrequent occurrence to see rhinoceros from
the windows of one’s compartment, whilst lions
also are by no means uncommon. Journeying
recently down the East African coast from Mom-
basa with a friend who had just come from Lake
Victoria Nyanza, he assured me that he had seen
giraffes from the railway line, and that two of
these animals, at a distance of less than 200 yards
from the track, showed no disposition to disturb
their repast on the passage of the train at that
comparatively short distance. I remember also
hearing a story, vouched for by credible witnesses,
—that on one occasion, shortly after the opening
of the railway, a train suddenly turning a corner
came upon a couple of rhinoceros which had
chosen the permanent way for a temporary
resting-place. One of these, probably the female,
took to flight, but the larger of the two, after
one moment of resentful stupefaction, and with
the blind, headlong rage so characteristic of this
singular beast, gallantly charged the engine of
the oncoming train. I was told that quite a
perceptible shock was experienced throughout

EXISTING GAME 9

its entire length. Fortunately the rhinoceros,
which was killed on the spot, was flung off the
track by the violence of the impact, otherwise
the derailment of at least the engine might
easily have occurred.

I hope, however, my readers will not leap
to the conclusion that incidents like the latter
are of frequent occurrence. It is true, I believe,
that heart-rending complaints are made from
time to time by distracted officials of the damage
wrought by monkeys disporting themselves on
the telegraph wires, and by giraffes which saunter
leisurely but irresistibly across the permanent
way, completely forgetting that telegraph pole
construction does not yet make allowance for
the length of their necks. These catastrophes
happen,-it is true, but I ask any lover of the
beautiful wild things of the forest and plain,
which have lent such world-wide attraction to
the plains of East Africa, if such small incon-
veniences as these are, in the circumstances,
worthy of consideration as such ?

Turning to the great game families existing
at present in the region of Zambezia, the most
numerous are probably the zebras; then come
certain antelopes, such as the eland, sable, roan,
gnu (both the brindled and Nyasaland varieties),
kudu, hartebeeste, waterbuck, and others. Ele-
phants are found in the forested uplands during
the winter, and buffaloes are still obtainable in
the wide plains bordering some of the remoter
streams. There are, however, no giraffes or
gazelles, such as Grant’s or Thompson’s, or the

10 EXISTING GAME

oryx found still in the Cape Colony. The huge
hippopotamus frequents almost all the water-
ways—even the Zambezi itself, a little way out
of the path of the steamers, still contains con-
siderable numbers of these strange amphibians—
and they are a source of great damage to the
native gardens, as well as to sugar cane wherever
they find their taste for these products can be
indulged in safety. The rhinoceros is by no
means uncommon in certain parts of the country,
and maintains to the full the reputation for
uncertainty of temper which has so justly been
bestowed upon this formidable animal at almost
all other points at which it occurs. Then the
smaller antelopes are well represented by the
inyala, impala, bushbuck, reedbuck, steenbuck,
duiker, oribi, and klipspringer, as also by that
graceful little type, Livingstone’s suni. Pigs
take the form of the unlovely warthog, and the
smaller, toothsome bush-pig, whilst about six
monkeys are headed by the yellow baboon and
the formidable chacma.

We now come to the carnivora. Throughout
the Mozambique Province, and especially in
Zambezia, lions occur in considerable numbers,
and are a source of great terror to the natives
and others, and loss of life to them and to the
game. Leopards are almost equally numerous
and well distributed, especially in hilly country,
the animal found here being, I believe, in all
respects the same as that common to most other
parts of Africa. Servals also occur in all the
low-lying country, and doubtless take heavy

EXISTING GAME 11

toll of the smaller antelopes. They are interest-
ing, handsome animals with beautifully spotted
skins and light-coloured bodies. Then come the
chita, the caracal, the tiger cat, and one or two
wild cats. Very freely distributed are the genets,
civets, and two kinds of mungoose; whilst the
spotted hyena is common everywhere. His
voice is heard every night in the interior, con-
sorting with the side-striped jackal and other
prowlers. But probably, for his numbers, the
greatest scourge of all is the hunting dog, which,
throughout these districts, wanders about in
packs of from ten to sixteen or more. I know
of no more potent agency to clear a region of
its game than this bold, not unhandsome, much-
dreaded animal. Very far from shy, even when
approached by human beings, I have, however,
never heard of a case of their having molested
natives or others. Last year, having to pass
through a very well-known game district, I was
much surprised to see in it neither game nor recent
spoor. On the second day’s journey, however,
having to cross the sandy bed of a dry stream,
I saw what I believed to be the tracks of the
hunting dogs, and not much later in the day
they streamed across my path in full view like
a miniature pack of hounds. 1 was unable to
see what they were in pursuit of, but, such is
their speed and tirelessness, I felt sure it would
have but small chance of escape.

Without dealing with the smaller forms—the
rabbits, porcupines, and others—to which refer-
ence will be made in a later chapter, the foregoing

12 PERIODICAL MIGRATIONS

represent the principal beasts found in Zambezia,
and are those with which the hunter may, with
a very small modicum of luck, be tolerably
certain of being able to try conclusions.

South of the Zambezi, as well as within the
district of Quelimane, there are wide expanses
where at certain times of year one is rarely out
of sight of the herds. 1 suppose the greatest
numbers are still to be found upon the great
flats bordering the Urema River in Cheringoma ;
but, in addition to these, the remote inaccessible
plains lying to the east of the Cheringoma range
may be regarded in their season as being the
haunts of very large quantities of animals.

One of the most interesting and difficult
questions regarding the habits of the game beasts
of Zambezia connects itself with the seasons of,
and the reasons for, their periodical migrations.
Putting aside for a moment the elephants, the
motives for some of whose movements are not
unintelligible, the remainder of the animals
under consideration have the oddest and most
inexplicable habit of disappearing for months
at a time, leaving their usual haunts well-nigh
deserted, and then reappearing apparently with-
out rhyme or reason. Thus, in the rainy season,
a time of year at which fortunately hunting is
now no longer permitted, I have seen on the
Cheringoma flats, between that mountain and
the grand range of Gorongoza, animals so plentiful
that for several days together they were never
out of sight. From the doorway of my tent on
the Gungwe and Zangwe marshes I have watched

PERIODICAL MIGRATIONS 13

the game for hours as the animals wandered
about on their feeding grounds, or crossed from
the distant forest belt in long lines to drink in
the crocodile-haunted waters of the Urema.
Sometimes the waterbuck and wildebeeste would
pass the tent, apparently without noticing it;
at others they would stand for some minutes
regarding it with pricked ears and distended
nostrils, then, curiosity overcoming discretion,
they would slowly approach until at a hundred
yards or so a vagrant current of air would give
them our scent, and they would wheel madly
round and gallop away for a quarter of a mile,
where they would halt again and gaze as though
their lives depended upon it. Zebra especially
possess a curiosity which is positively feminine,
and will often stand motionlessly regarding one
on the line of march without displaying the
smallest disposition to stampede. But to return
to the question of migration. The foregoing
sentences describe the plentifulness of the game
during the rainy or summer season; in winter,
on the other hand, that is to say between June
and October, you will look in vain for these
large numbers, and have, in some cases, to work
extremely hard for certain varieties which at
first seem entirely to have disappeared. Take,
for example, that splendid tragelaph, the eland.
In northern Cheringoma there is a fine game
country of very wide extent called Inyaminga.
Here, in the winter season, eland and sable
antelopes are very numerous, and run in large
herds. Discussing this fact recently with the

14 PERIODICAL MIGRATIONS

Portuguese district commandant of Cheringoma,
Sefhor Alfredo Liebermeister, a very capable
and courteous official, and an old and valued
friend of mine, he told me to my surprise that
in the summer or rainy season Inyaminga was
wholly deserted by the two varieties mentioned ;
but that buffaloes, which in the dry period
were not numerous, returned thither in the hot
weather in considerable herds. Buffaloes, of
course, are well known for their curious migra-
tions—for the singular manner in which they
appear and disappear over intervals of several
months at a time. On the Inyaminga flats
some years ago there was one herd of about forty
buffaloes, whose leader was easily recognisable
from the circumstance that he possessed only
one remarkably large horn, the other having
been broken off just at the point of the turn.
This herd was known to the natives as (I am not
sure if my termination of the word is quite
correct, if not it was something very similar),
Nyangalira’s family, or Nyangalira’s children.
They all knew Nyangalira, the old bull leader,
quite well, and on certain occasions when I have
been in the neighbourhood asking after buffaloes,
they would tell me quite gravely that Nyangalira’s
family were either in such and such a place, or
had gone away, and would not be back again
until the rains came. None knew why or where
he went, but I have heard Lenco, my old elephant
hunter, say that Nyangalira was possessed of
such powerful medicine that he was as fearless
of lions as of the younger bulls, and that he

PERIODICAL MIGRATIONS 15

(Lengo) very greatly doubted if it would be
possible to shoot him,—at any rate, he was not
at all keen that I should undertake so hazardous
a venture, remarking with great truth that no
one could tell what would happen if I did. Of
course, although nothing would have induced
me to harm the poor old beast, there were,
nevertheless, several good heads in the herd
with which he was permitted to associate, and
I have sometimes thought that the singular
attributes with which native superstition in-
vested him may have arisen from the unusual
circumstance of an injured bull being permitted
by the younger males to continue to consort
with the herd. As a rule, waning powers are
quickly detected in the course of the encounters
which constantly take place between the males,
and no time is then lost in unceremoniously
turning away the worn-out bulls, who either
become solitary animals, or, with several others
in similar evil case, meekly bear the bovine
burden of increasing years until they fall victims
in the end to man or the lions.

I suppose really that the true reason for game
migrations connects itself chiefly with food con-
siderations; that they share in minor degree
with the elephant the surprising knowledge of
the exact time of year when the fruit or leaves
or bark of some favourite trve, or some greatly
relished grass or other plant, is at its perfection of
ripeness and readiness to eat, and that when this
knowledge comes to them they set out, covering,
it may be, great distances to reach the tempting

16 PERIODICAL MIGRATIONS

attraction in time. However this may be, I do
not think that the migratory habits so character-
istic of the varieties I have mentioned are shared
at all by the waterbuck and zebras, and not to
anything like the same extent by the gnus and
the hartebeestes. Still, I have observed, in the case
of the gnus, a tendency to desert wide expanses
of country for considerable periods of time, and
to reappear long afterwards when their presence
was quite unexpected. The kudu is not suffi-
ciently numerous in any portion of the country
with which we are dealing to enable an opinion
to be formed as to his habits in this regard, whilst
the continuous presence of the smaller antelopes
in districts favourable to their well-being gives
ground for the supposition that they, at any rate,
are seldom seized with roving desires.

Before completing this chapter I would say a
few words regarding the salutary measures which
have been adopted in certain British colonies in
Africa with a view to checking the wholesale
heartless destruction of game beasts which has
been carried on for so many years, chiefly by a
certain class who make a scandalous and un-
necessary living by preserving the flesh of their
victims and selling it in the form of what they
call “‘biltong.” In the Transvaal and else-
where, I am informed, this disgraceful pursuit
has been properly and sternly repressed, and it
is in the earnest hope that my words may extend
this repression to Portuguese territory, and in-
deed assist in making it universal, that these lines
are penned. The immature male and the female

BILTONG BUTCHERS 17

>

heavy with offspring alike yield “biltong,” and
nothing with life in its nostrils and flesh on its
bones is spared so long as it can put a few blood-
stained pence into the “biltong” hunter’s ever-
gaping pocket. By him whole districts have been
devastated, whole species almost wiped out. The
man who wields a pole-axe in a common abattoir
has as much right to call himself a sportsman as
this miscreant, whose mission in life it is to
destroy the most beautiful of living forms for no
other object than to prolong his own contemptible,
unnecessary existence. I trust the time is not
far distant when the manufacture of “ biltong”’
from the flesh of wild game killed expressly for
this purpose will be made a criminal offence
punishable with the heaviest penalties.

CHAPTER II
ZAMBEZIA : WHERE IT IS, AND WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE

I HAVE already given an imperfect description of
the large and important division of the Province
of Mozambique which has come to be called
Zambezia in a book bearing that name, and
although this chapter becomes necessary by reason
of the smallness of the knowledge of the average
individual regarding so out-of-the-way a portion
of the earth’s surface, I hope I may not be con-
sidered as having neglected this splendid region
if I do not give more than a passing glance at its
manifold beauties and attractions in a book which
is, after all, meant to be a book on big game. I
have repeatedly stated elsewhere that for any-
thing like a full account of Zambezia, its mar-
vellous scenery, and its wealth of every description
of natural science, a book consisting of half a
dozen portly volumes were surely all too insuffi-
cient and inadequate. It is one of those im-
mense slices of Africa whose vastness is a thing
which stay-at-home Europeans experience diffi-
culty in stretching their faculties even dimly to
appreciate. It contains almost every variety of
climate and scenery—every beauty of African
landscape.

The division of which Zambezia may be re-
18

DESCRIPTIVE 19

garded as consisting extends from the 14th parallel
of south latitude, at a point about 60 miles west
of Lake Nyassa, to the 19th degree or thereabouts,
taking in the whole of the islands formed by the
delta of the Zambezi, and a considerable portion
of its southern bank. It is an immense wedge
of irregular shape driven into the heart of the
great continent, with a width of nearly nine
longitudinal degrees, and separating our Nyasa-
land colony from Southern Rhodesia by a re-
spectable area almost exactly the shape of a
horse’s head, and some 240 miles long by 300
wide. This wedge, however, is only a portion of
Zambezia—certainly much less than half its full
extent, and, whilst following the north bank of the
Zambezi from the Loangwa or Aroangwa River
all the way down to the coast, it yields to the
chartered Mozambique Company (Companhia de
Mocambique) the occupancy of the southern
margin over not quite half of that extent. Before
plunging into the main motif of this book, there-
fore, I desire to devote a few pages to giving my
readers some idea of what the country consists of,
and its appearance at different points at the time
of year at which the hunter of big game com-
mences to unpack his cherished rifles and look
once more to his camp equipment.

From June to November, then, the South
Central African winter is at its height, and, during
that period, the climatic conditions are most
favourable to hunting and travelling in the far
interior. The days are warm and sunny, whilst
the nights and mornings are cool in the lower

20 DESCRIPTIVE

elevations and piercingly cold in the beautifully
upland regions of which so much of this portion of
Africa consists. If, therefore, an excursion should
be contemplated with a view to indulging in a
satisfying allowance of great game hunting on
the Zambezi, or in its neighbourhood, and should
penetrate into the vast, little-known fastnesses
of the Shupanga Forest which lie on the southern
margin of the great river, I would have you, in
anticipation of what you will find, cast your
mental gaze over some such picture as the
following.

On the one hand the broad, shallow waters
of the Zambezi, blue as a belt of sapphire, flowing
placidly, 800 yards wide, between pale yellow
banks of fine sand. Above and below, the main
channel divides to encompass large, sandy islets
covered with tufts of feathery spear-grass, and
affording in their inlets and backwaters restful
abiding-places for wild-fowl, crocodiles, and,
possibly, a shy, experienced old hippopotamus.
The main banks of the river—18 or 20 feet above
the stream—display the curious strata of their
compositions,—first sand, then a coarser sand
full of quartz crystals and small shells, and,
lastly, the dark grey, almost black surface-soil
affording rich sustenance to the rank grasses
and countless palms which here line the
bank of the river. Let us climb up it and
look farther afield. From the point of our
ascent there stretches in towards the forest
a belt of beautiful, dark green spear-grass, that
attractive, spiteful growth the ends of whose

UISPINA IP Ny CJOUT 106 ty JIDs OL

DESCRIPTIVE 21

blades are sharply pointed to prick and scratch
you as a path is forced through them. This
gives on to a plain of shorter, if still very rank
grass, over which, as we reach it, a couple of
reedbuck gallop madly to gain the protecting
shelter of the neighbouring forest. Here the
magnificently fronded Borassus palm, a growth
very similar to the well-known fan palm of India,
and the Hyphcene, but little inferior to the
last named either in size or beauty, lend that
tropical aspect to the surrounding scenery which
invests the African landscape with such grace
and charm. We follow a narrow game path,
and wend our way towards the tree belt, whose
dark, umbrageous outline affords a welcome
contrast to the dry, grassy, sun-swept plain
which stretches between it and the descent
to the river. On its edge stand enormous, grey,
ghostly baobabs; shady, shimmering groves of
silvery-leaved bamboos, sometimes growing com-
pletely over ancient ant-hills of such immense
height that they would rather appear to be
artificial than natural features of the view before
us. Then we find, as the forest grows thicker,
large trees roped together with depending monkey-
ropes and llianas; great clumps of rock-like
euphorbias; dwarf iron-wood and_ shady
acacias; velvety-foliaged albizzias and coarse-
looking gomphias; huge parinaria with lofty
stems as straight as a mast, and as thick as the
boiler of a good-sized locomotive. All these
and a hundred more. Then, as the mellow
afternoon sunlight, slowly westering, strikes the
3

22 DESCRIPTIVE

peak of some distant, lofty chain of hills, we
have a new element of beauty added to the
absorbing picture, the details of which we have
set ourselves to examine—that one necessary
feature of far-away mountains which now
completes the harmonious tropical landscape.
Away to the south, here and there, many miles
apart, but in appearance comparatively close
together, rise isolated pillars of thin, blue smoke,
the smoke of the grass fires whereby the over-
burdened land rids itself of the redundant vege-
tation of the past rainy season. This smoke
now overshadows the entire country, toning
down the overhead blue to a shade almost
resembling transparent French grey. A haze
overhangs the forest and plain, only to be dissi-
pated by the first deluges of the rains of early
December, and there is in the air the sweet, dry
smell of the grass that awaits but the spark of
some passing native’s cigarette to burst into
conflagration also.

We pass onward through the forest, leaving the
Zambezi behind, and every step of the journey
possesses its own peculiar interest. The country
hereabout is evidently the home of a fair
amount of game. Each partly dried water-hole
is paddled all round with the spoor of all kinds of
animals, from the vast foot-print of the ponderous
elephant to the tiny delicate impression of the
graceful steenbuck. The prostrate trunks of
recently flourishing trees, as also the nibbled
extremities of the green bamboo shoots, tell of
the passage of elephants, as do also the ponderous

DESCRIPTIVE 23

down-torn branches of the massive trees, and
the straggling, levered-up roots, whose bitten-off
ends show that they too are appreciated items
of the elephant’s daily menu. Although the
winter season is still at its height, and here
and there sad blackened expanses show where
the forest fires have licked up the exuberant
summer greenery, the delicate blades of newly
sprung grasses are already surrounding the
charred roots, full of the promise of that abundant
life which, with the first of the spring rains,
will transform the whole face of the land into a
vast, wild, all too short-lived garden.

We now reach one of those numerous expanses
of swampy reed-surrounded fen which, in this
part of Africa, are so full of interesting forms of
life. The ground shakes beneath one, and here
and there the black, moisture-laden soil of the
path we follow forms a gay, sulphur-hued,
tremulous carpet, covered as it is for several
square yards by countless tiny, thirsty, pale
yellow butterflies. The breeze of afternoon ruffles
the surface of the water, gay with light blue
lilies, surrounded by bright verdant spear-grass
with great snowy heads, and wide expanses of
transparent green papyrus rushes, tall marsh
thistles, and the tender greenery of the finely
woven bog-moss. The reeds and rushes are
full of warblers and chats, and out among the
great flopping leaves of the water-lilies ducks
and spur-winged geese sit tranquilly. At the
foot of the surrounding greenery a dozen snowy-
white egrets are watching the water, with a

24 DESCRIPTIVE

goliath heron and a numerous assembly of black
ibises. Here a small peninsula of low, green
grass juts out some yards into the water, and
among the giant duckweed and floating pollen
of the encompassing grasses by which the surface
is covered, one may see the tracks of the swimming
ducks and dabchicks, whilst long-limbed stints
and spidery-toed waterfowl rush in and out of
the gleaming grass stems, where the sunlight
seldom penetrates—those cool, grey, insect-popul-
ated depths where every day a million lives are
born and die.

The rattle of the wind-swept reed stems
sounds pleasant to our ears—a foretaste of the
cool afternoon breeze, which in the tropics, with
praiseworthy regularity, comes up with the wester-
ing sunlight to wipe away unprofitable recol-
lections of the hot, thirsty forenoon tramp.
All through the morning hours forest and fen
have lain slumbering in a gradually increasing
heat. As noon approaches a deep silence seems
to brood over the face of the entire country.
The beasts have fed their way into their mid-
day shelters; scarcely a bird’s note breaks the
intense stillness of the forest. The damp air
of the marsh, heavy with the odour of water-lilies
and other fen blooms, reminds one of the oppressive
atmosphere of an English hot-house. These are
the hours of the insects’ daily revels. Butterflies
of gorgeous hues; large, troublesome, buzzing
flies and droning beetles, fill the air with a low,
tremulous, drowsy hum; glittering dragon-flies,
each wing a separate jewel of rare brilliancy, sun

DESCRIPTIVE 25

themselves on the grasses and reeds, and hosts
of other tropical insects resplendent and dingy,
lively and torpid, feel in every fibre of their
delicate bodies the vivifying exhilaration of
the warm, grateful sunlight. This strange still-
ness continues unbroken all through the later
morning hours, and it is usually not until scme
time after midday that the first gentle waving
of the flopping spear-grass heads heralds the
welcome approach of the afternoon breeze.
Thenceforward the heat becomes less and less
oppressive, and, as the afternoon wanes, the
sensation of heat-induced listlessness leaves one’s
perspiratior.-scaked limbs, and the march is
resumed with renewed activity.

So we leave the marsh-belts and enter the
forest, golden lances of afternoon sunshine pierc-
ing the leafy depths with more and more diff-
culty as the huge, lIliana-wreathed monsters,
joining overhead, oppose an almost impenetrable
mass of interlaced foliage, which produces at times
amomentary gloom. In the shadow of the timber
trees, albeit bushes and low jungle may often
require some effort to force a way through, the
tall grasses of the plains are almost entirely
absent ; the only growth of the kind being a low
sparse variety which does not wholly cover the
dark clayey soil. Spiteful thorn bushes and
spiky trailers require constant watchfulness. ever
ready as they are to tear your skin and rend
your garments.

Now comes a “dambo,”” an open plain in
the midst of the forest, covered with lush green

26 DESCRIPTIVE

grass, the morning feeding place of eland and
wildebeeste, sable and reedbuck. These expanses
may be of any size, from 20 to 200 acres or more.
Usually, towards the centre, you will find a slight
tendency to marshiness, with probably a spring
of cool, clear water, much resorted to by all kinds
of wild animals. A big brown bustard rises close
by as we pass along, and a brace of fussy franco-
lins wing their rapid way to the sheltering gloom
beyond the edge of the dambo. We cross the
open space, noting with appreciative self-con-
gratulation the large quantity of fresh spoor of
all kinds of Zambezian game, then the path rises,
so we make our way to the shoulder of one of
the many suave undulations which occur in these
forested regions, and finally select a site for the
camping ground under the shelter of a vast
Mwangele tree, as the sun nears the horizon, and
the crooning of the ring-doves betokens the ap-
proach of the time for their evening drink.

So the tent party proceeds to clear a space for
our stout Edgington tents. The carriers, having
been shown how to arrange their loads in a neat
line facing the doors, have gone off to cut wood
and draw water, and preparations commence for
the formation of the camp in good earnest. The
fires now show bright flickering tongues of con-
spicuous, rosy flame. A deep luminous orange
glow throws the belt of forest into dark purple
relief where the sun has just disappeared with
tropical suddenness below the horizon. In the
overhead bluish grey a star begins to twinkle.
The deep voices of the carriers, with their cheery

DESCRIPTIVE 27

laughter, come echoing up from the big wood
fires around which they are resting, and, as night
falls, the tremulous cry of a night-jar, and the
melancholy “‘ bwé-bwé” of a wandering jackal,
very shortly give place to more sinister sounds,
when the long-drawn sigh of an awakening lion
takes the very heart of the woods with terror.

So we have bathed and put on warm evening
clothes; dinner has been served, and the cook
has retired to appropriate to his own use the
remnants of the feast. The whisky flask and
sparklets bottle repose upon the folding table,
fast growing damp in the heavy dew. The soft
African night encompasses us, and we feel it.
We sit back in our chairs, gazing dreamily upward
at the star-studded vault, filled to the brim with
unspeakable contentment. Brushed away, left
far behind, are the worries and cares of the life
of cities. We feel, without knowing it, that we are
very near to-night to that universal mother earth
from which we have all sprung—that good
mother who is ever waiting to take us again to
her great maternal bosom. We are unconsciously
communing with that majestic mystery Nature,
feeling unusually chastened, small, inconspicuous,
unimportant.

Leaving the forest country, there are several
very mountainous districts, such as Morambala,
Chiperoni, the broken, rocky Pinda district, and,
finest of all, majestic Mlanje, that splendid barrier
which looks down for many miles upon the Anglo-
Portuguese frontier of our colony of Nyasaland.
Mlanje is a vast mass of granite, the highest peak

28 DESCRIPTIVE

rising to over 9800 feet. One of its chief claims
to consideration consists in the healthiness of its
temperate climate, whilst another connects itself
with the well-watered fertility of its entire
enormous extent. Upon its upland slopes is
found the only Central African cedar, a valuable
growth strikingly similar in appearance to the
Lebanon variety, and yielding quantities of
admirable, fragrant timber. Then, in addition,
although the vegetation is not so tropical—so
rich in its endless varieties of gaily coloured
blooms as the lower levels bordering on the
Zambezi, yet, in common with all the higher
altitudes of South Central and Kast Africa, you
find in the shelter of the massive granite boulders,
and in the ravines leading down to the ever
flowing streams, a wonderful variety of curious,
semi-alpine growths. The grass of the mountain
regions is short and green; vast expanses of
homely bracken clothe the undulating plateau
country, and form the hiding-places of bush-buck
and klipspringer, of partridge and quail. In the
caves, and sheltered by the rough boulders of
the granite which lies thick on the slopes of the
mountain side, leopards and hyenas have their
hiding - places; and down below, where the
trees grow close to the running water, large
pythons may often be seen coiled beneath the
limbs of the massive tree trunks. In all other
respects, if you partly close your eyes soas some-
what to dim the sharp outlines of the cedars’
upper branches, their resemblance to Scotch pines
is so considerable that with the keen pure air of

DESCRIPTIVE 29

the upland elevations and the brattle of the
running water, rising familiarly from the neigh-
bouring stream, this might indeed be a portion
of Scotland—some out-of-the-way corner of the
western islands. If we draw near to the edge of
the plateau, and look out over the broad expanse
of splendid country which lies between Mlanje
and the Indian Ocean, the full effect of the still
beautiful picture is considerably marred at this
time of year by the misty atmosphere produced
by the smoke of the winter grass fires. At the
edge of the crater-like lip which in places forms
the outer extremity of the high plateau, you
crawl cautiously through the screen of low trees
and bushes and look out over a wonderful vista
of tree-covered undulation, and bare, glistening
granite walls. These latter, from the edge where-
on vou are seated, descend almost sheer down for
probably 800 feet, thence slope gradually plain-
ward, covered with trees of inconsiderable girth,
and rough with granite boulders unearthed by the
terrific landslides of the past. These slopes form
the purple-green foothills which, from a distance
of several miles, lend so suave an aspect to distant
African mountains. Away to the southward you
see immense expanses of very partially forested
country, with more hills and granite peaks rising
in glittering, billowy confusion, and leading your
eye onward to a distant point low down on the
horizon where the far-away gleam of sun upon
water reveals the whereabouts of the wide
Zambezi. The intervening plain is sparsely in-
habited, although from its condition of marked

30 DESCRIPTIVE

deforestation it is certain that at one time it was
the dwelling-place of some very populous native
division. At present the people have, as a whole,
taken up their abode upon the banks of the rivers,
and left the interior, which supported their fore-
fathers, to the unchallenged occupation of the
wild beasts.

The plains, of Zambezia occur chiefly to the
south of the great river’s delta, where there
are grassy expanses so vast that they could
scarcely be crossed in less than two or three long
days’ march. These interesting expanses, which
occur for the most part in the area lying between
the Inyamissengo mouth of the Zambezi and
the Mupa River, and run inland from the coast
probably for nearly one hundred miles, are the
practically undisturbed resorts of large quantities
of game, and possess for the hunter no small
interest, not only on that account, but also by
reason of the little that is known of them.
When I described them just now as grass plains,
I should perhaps have mentioned that they
contain in addition extensive swampy areas
full of reeds and papyrus rushes—the midday
haunt of hippopotami and buffaloes—and curious
island-like patches of isolated forest trees called
““ Ntundus.” These, as described in my book
Portuguese East Africa, are apparently composed
of timber of the usual species, but inexplicably
growing far apart from the rest of the forest
trees, and looking for all the world like so many
islands surrounded by the ocean-like plain. These
also are great game resorts. At certain times of

“VNUS YVAN IZHHNVZ AHL
MIspaxa {| ho O70ug of ° 990f OF

r

DESCRIPTIVE 31

year, notably when the marula-plum ripens
in August, and tempts the elephants from the
fastnesses of the Shupanga Forest, you may
see the coarse bark of the trees which compose
the Ntundus coated with marsh mud to a height
of 9 or 10 feet, where the elephants, after a
satisfying roll in the neighbouring swamps,
have rubbed themselves to get rid of as much
of the clinging ooze as they conveniently
could.

These plains are crossed all over with numbers
of game paths proceeding in all directions, and
so well trodden that a stranger would often take
them for native made roads. For many miles you
may traverse the well-known, short, nutritious-
looking buffalo-grass, and very few miles—or
fractions of a mile for the matter of that—will
you march without finding the spoor of these
sporting animals, if not the beasts themselves.
Then, doubtless for carrying off the waters of
the heavy summer rains, these wide, prairie-like
plains are provided with numerous channels,
which, at the time of year when game is the
object of a visit, are usually dry, and enable
stalking to be resorted to with a prospect of
success which would not present itself perhaps
in their absence. Two rivers traverse these
plains, which are known to the natives as the
Mupa and Mungari Rivers. They are shown
on most maps under the names “ Saengadzi”
and “ Thornton,” but whoever may originally
so have named them, the latter appellations
convey nothing to the local natives of to-day,

82 DESCRIPTIVE

and may safely be consigned to the limbo of
inaccurate cartography from which poor Africa
has so long and patiently suffered. Both the
Mupa and Mungari Rivers rise, or at least pass
through, a very extensive system of marsh
lying close to the fringe of virgin forest which
forms the eastern boundary of the continuous
tree growths, and ends at varying distances from
the coast. This marsh is one of the most
interesting and beautiful areas with which I am
acquainted in this part of Africa. To begin
with, it is many square miies in extent, and
runs nearly due north and south, almost as far
as eye can reach, a fascinating waving sea of
billowy, white-capped spear-grass, and mop-like,
apple-green papyrus rushes. Away to the east-
ward, if you climb a short way up a convenient
hyphoene palm, you will be able to follow the
courses of both the rivers I have mentioned, by
the low tree growths, occasionally varied by
straight-trunked palms which line their banks.
But immediately to the landward side of the
marsh—to the westward, that is to say—the
plain rises in a sort of grassy ledge, extending
for possibly a mile or two before the first out-
lying fringe of the forest is reached. Here in
the early morning, therefore, between the shelter
of the forest and the morning drinking-place,
may often be seen game beasts in something
approaching the astonishing profusion, both of
numbers and varieties, which is unfortunately
now becoming so rare.

But as a sort of preliminary to discussing

DESCRIPTIVE 83

game beasts, I want to say a few words, before
quitting the great Mupa marshes, about the
teeming wild-fowl which there find an undis-
turbed home.

The first time I visited this region, and long
before coming in sight of the great marsh I
have just described, I remember watching at
the close of day long lines of ducks and geese
flying overhead always in the same direction.
I supposed, as the question formed itself in my
mind, that they had flown inland from the not
very distant coastline, and were pursuing a
course toward some pieces of open water which I
knew to lie somewhat to the north-east of the
foothills of the Cheringoma range. A day or
two later, continuing my journey to the coast,
I made a camp on the edge of the forest at a
point from which the apparently limitless line
of sedge and papyrus stretched unbroken to
the north and south. It is my custom, after
seeing the camp properly pitched, if there be
still sufficient light, to take a couple of men, a
rifle and a shot gun, and stroll away in any
direction which holds out reasonable hope of a
satisfactory result. On this particular evening
I crossed the mile-wide grassy ledge already
referred to, and speedily found myself on the
outskirts of the papyrus which bordered, together
with every other kind of reed, the huge swampy
marsh on its landward side. For some distance
I skirted it, until at length I found a well-paddled
tunnel leading towards the water, where the
muddy marsh soil showed the spoor of buffalo,

34 WILD-FOWL

waterbuck, zebra, and several other varieties
of game, whilst the deeper imprints of the
footmarks of the hippopotamus clove great
seams in the somewhat higher levels of the soft
soil from which the great rushes sprang. Follow-
ing this tunnel cautiously, I soon saw the water
beyond; the surface so covered with great
water-lily leaves and other aquatic plants that
it appeared almost like dry land save tor certain
unmistakable indications which I am about to
describe. ‘The open space before me might have
covered some twenty or thirty acres, surrounded
on all sides by the same high reed belt which,
narrowing together at each visible extremity
of the pool, opened out again beyond one’s
range of vision, where the water deepened to
surround further and probably larger expanses
which were hidden, as it were, round the corner.
As I came to the end of my friendly tunnel,
and my feet began to sink more deeply in the
rapidly thinning ooze, 1 became aware that the
surface of the water was alive with fowl. Those
near at hand had already observed me, and
had begun to swim slowly towards the centre.
Wherever my eyes swept the surface I saw
nothing but scores upon scores ot upstanding
anatide’ heads. I remember making out, as
I watched them (for I am extracting the list
from my field notebook wherein I made it on
my return to camp), both black and ordinary
spur-winged geese, dwarf geese, ducks of both
the red and black varieties, white-backed duck,

1 A new word is clearly demanded here.

WILD-FOWL 35

teal, and South African pochard. Away over
towards the other side half a dozen pelicans
swam leisurely on the surface; great ash-grey
herons looked meditatively into the water at
their feet, white egrets dotted the rushes, snake
birds sat on the partly submerged roots, their
wings held stiffly out to dry after their last
plunge, whilst numbers of shore birds ran in
and out at the foot of the reeds and over the
secure foothold afforded by the big flopping
water-lily leaves. Altogether it was a sight
which one felt one would have come a long way
to see. At my first shot there arose upon the
air such a thunder of wings, such a hurricane
of quackings and squawks and whistlings and
shrillings, as I have never heard before or since.
Not only from the piece of water before me,
but from all the concealed surrounding pools
the air was darkened and absolutely palpitated
with thousands upon thousands of rapid wing-
strokes. The metallic staccato note of the teal,
the piercing whistle of the plover and whimbrels,
and the raucous bark of the giant heron, all made
together a perfect pandemonium of wild cries,
greatly increased in volume by the oft-repeated,
insane, half-human laugh of the brown-plumaged,
strident hadada. In a few brief moments I
had killed enough duck to have furnished several
camps, so, laden with my spoils, I withdrew; but so
astonishingly tame were the birds that, although
I must have fired at least twenty shots, no sooner
had I recalled my retrieving natives from the
shallow water into which the victims had fallen,

36 WILD-FOWL

than they settled tranquilly down again as though
nothing extraordinary had happened.

In all the districts of Zambezia wild-fowl are
found, but in no other portion of that wide region
have I observed them in such _ bewildering
numbers and varieties as in the great marshes
which form, I believe, the sources of the Mupa
and Mungari and probably other unmapped
rivers of this little known and interesting district.

CHAPTER ILI
THE ELEPHANT

A CENTURY ago the African elephant extended
his dominion over almost the whole of the con-
tinent south of the vast desert expanses of its
northern extremity ; whilst, in the days of the
Carthaginians, it was found within measurable
distance of the Mediterranean coasts, and cap-
tured and utilised by that enterprising and war-
like people. Did we seek to trace this mighty
pachyderm still farther back into prehistoric
times, we should find, on the solemn word of some
of our greatest scientists, that it existed beyond
question in Spain and Sicily, as doubtless in other
portions of the continent of Europe. But the
unquestioned ancestor of the elephant of our day
must in nowise be confused with the mastodon or
mammoth—those gigantic forms which are said
to have occurred at no great distance of time before
the historic period ; whose remains, in a perfectly
preserved state, have been found in the frozen
river gravels and “silt”? of Northern Siberia,
and whose mighty tusks, of which many are even
now in existence, were fashioned into drinking
cups by the cave-dwellers of France. That
greatest of all living students of these matters,
Sir Ray Lankester, assures us, on the contrary,
4

38 THE ELEPHANT

that within the human period elephants closely
similar to those of our own time, far more
numerous and widely distributed than they are at
present, and occurring all over the earth’s tem-
-perate zone, belonged to a type midway between
the great beast with which we are all familiar and
his remote ancestor. It is stated to have been
a comparatively small creature about the size of a
donkey, and not only without the prolonged upper
lip or trunk of the modern elephant, but wholly
destitute of the latter’s often enormous tusks.

This scientific disclosure, when I read it,
ruthlessly swept away one of my most cherished
illusions. I had always regarded our elephants,
both of the African and Indian varieties, as the
descendants of either the mammoths ormastodons.
I was never sure which, but I felt it must be the
larger of the two, whichever that might be. I
pictured to myself a mountainous prodigy about
80 feet high, covered with a matted coat of
coarse, brownish hair, and possessed of huge, bow-
like, outward-curving tusks, whose points finally
turned inward. When at length I learned the
whole truth of the modern elephant’s ancestry,
therefore, I realised the true inwardness of my
years of melancholy self-deception.

Turning, however, from the elephant of pre-
historic times to the splendid animal of the same
race which still roams the forests of South Central
Africa in considerable numbers, it is satisfactory
to be able to say that he stands in no immediate
danger of extinction. If you were to draw a
circle with a centre fixed slightly to the westward

THE ELEPHANT 39

of the Lualaba River, or about 200 miles west of
the middle shores of Lake Tanganyika, and whose
distance was the coast at either Cabinda on the
one hand, or Bagamoyo on the other, you would
find that the whole of the immense space confined
within its limits was still, more or less, the haunt
of the African elephant; whilst beyond it, in
French West Africa, Sierra Leone, Liberia, and
many other immense territories from the Gambia
to the Congo, as well as in Southern Abyssinia
and the Nile Valley, these animals continue to
exist in vast numbers.

In Zambezia itself they are found all through
the dense forests surrounding Mount Chiperoni,
and extending thence northward to the Mozam-
bique district, and eastward through Boror to
Quelimane. To some extent, although they have
been much slaughtered of late years, they still
exist in the district of Luabo, to the south of
the Zambezi delta, in the Shupanga Forest, and
in the high wooded fastnesses of the low range of
Cheringoma. It is, however, a curious fact that
the elephants to the south of the Zambezi seldom
or never possess ivory of the size and weight carried
by members of the herds found in the Nyasaland
Protectorate, in North-Eastern Rhodesia, and
on the head waters of the Congo and the Nile. I
suppose the real reason for this is to be sought in
the much lengthier interval during which the
Zambezi region has been the scene of European
occupation, and the consequently longer period
wherein the herds have been eagerly scanned for
the heaviest and therefore most valuable ivory.

40 THE ELEPHANT

Still, occasionally, tusks of 60 or 65 lbs. are some-
times brought to the coast, but I am inclined to
regard these as the largest that are now here
obtainable.

In the hot rainy months of the summer season
these animals wander all over the districts men-
tioned, but, in my experience at least, the dry
season causes them to withdraw, generally speak-
ing, from the low levels to higher forested country,
whence they rarely descend except during the
seasons of the ripening of certain fruits. In
Zambezia they are usually found, at the time of
year mentioned, in herds of six or seven to thirty
or more, and although their feeding time is chiefly
at night, they nevertheless continue, when un-
disturbed, browsing intermittently during the
day, moving slowly, in a long irregular line,
unless their attention be drawn to some par-
ticularly attractive article of diet, when they draw
together and investigate it, moving off again to
rest, during the heat of the day, in the cool, shady
depths of the denser forests. Apart from the
herds, however, there are a great number of aged
solitary beasts who, for one reason or another,
but generally that of age, have been cast out, or
have withdrawn from the society of their fellows,
and these are often extremely suspicious and
dangerous to approach. But in cases where the
wind is steady and favourable there is probably
no animal easier to get near. Even where cover
may be scanty, accidental noises which would
put other animals instantly on the qui vive are
often wholly disregarded. I have even known

THE ELEPHANT 41

instances where elephants I have been following
have turned and regarded me suspiciously for
several minutes, but on my remaining motionless
have resumed their march without making me
out. But their keen sense of smell is truly
astonishing. I do not know what may be the
maximum distance at which they are able to
catch the human taint in the air, but I have little
doubt that it is fully 800 to 1000 yards, or, with
a strong breeze, even considerably more. Some
idea of the difficulty of their pursuit may there-
fore be formed when account is taken of the fact
that in forest country, during the early part of the
day, the light breeze is variable in the extreme,
and may move in half a dozen directions in the
short space of half an hour.

Elephants drink shortly after sunrise, and
often bathe during the night in the rivers and
pools. They are particularly fond of rolling in
mud and damp, sandy soil, whilst in hot weather
a favourite habit on emerging from the water is
to cover the body with dust blown through the
trunk. They are exceedingly fond of salt, and it
is a common experience in elephant country to
meet with large hills of the blind termite or white
ant completely broken down to get at the salty
earth within. Several other animals with which I
am acquainted have the same weakness.

The African variety is of course very much
larger than his Indian relative, not only in regard
to the size and weight of the ivory carried, but
also in his height and bulk ; for whereas the latter
rarely exceeds 9 ft. 6 in. at the shoulder, the former

42 THE ELEPHANT

often reaches 11 ft. at that point. Moreover,
the female of the Indian type possesses no tusks
whatsoever, or at best mere embryo defences a few
inches in length; but those of the African female
elephant are esteemed as furnishing the finest
quality of ivory obtained from this animal. I
remember seeing one single male tusk which had
been brought for sale to Zanzibar some years ago,
and which, so far as I remember, weighed 285 lbs.
I speak without authority, but I believe I am
right in saying that this was the largest tusk re-
corded at that important centre of the ivory
trade. Those of females are rarely found to be
over 17 or 18 lbs., but their quality is far finer
than bull ivory. Returning for a moment to
the question of the height of these animals, I
understand that one of the African elephants
exhibited at the Natural History Museum at
South Kensington rather exceeds 11 ft. at the
shoulder, a measurement regarded by the
Museum authorities as somewhat exceptional. I
do not know in what way this opinion has been
arrived at, of course, but to my mind the di-
mensions of the animal in question are in no way
unusual. I have on two occasions shot elephants
of greater height, and I am perfectly sure that I
have seen others which, if secured, would have
given measurements decidedly exceeding that of
the South Kensington Museum specimen. The
average weight of a full-grown African elephant
bull, though extremely difficult to ascertain
correctly, has been estimated as being close upon
7 tons.

SEN VET OP Tod

‘ anne f'',
yr MiKo \

THE ELEPHANT 48

This splendid type, in addition to being much
larger, differs very widely in torm from the
Asiatic variety. In the latter the back, which
so readily fits the howdah, is convex, and the
shoulder much lower than the point of the spine.
In the African beast, on the contrary, the highest
point is the shoulder, and the back is strikingly
concave, whilst from its highest point it slopes
almost sharply down to the root of the tail. It
has, therefore, been supposed that for that
reason it would not lend itself to utilisation
in captivity to the same extent, and for the same
purposes as the Eastern variety, so long and so
familiar an object of interest to visitors to
India, Burmah, the Zoological Gardens, and
elsewhere. Another peculiarity consists in the
differences presented by the shape of the skulls
of the two animals, as also in the sizes of the
ears,—those of the African elephant being so
enormous that the edge, when pressed against
the side, indicates a spot through which a bullet
may be directed to the very middle of the
lungs.

As a general rule, elephants are timid beasts.
The herd on winding human beings almost
invariably retreats, as also do solitary animals in
most cases. This timidity of disposition cannot,
however, be regarded as invariable. Instances
have occurred of individuals being attacked
and very seriously—in some cases fatally—injured,
by the charge of unmolested elephants. The
ease of a friend of mine who, while travelling
up to an administrative post to which he had

44 THE ELEPHANT

been appointed in one of the districts to the west
of Lake Nyasa, affords a striking example of
this. He was reclining in his machila! when
suddenly an immense, solitary bull attacked him,
and so badly injured him that for many months
a valuable life hung in the balance. He neither
saw the great beast before nor after the attack.
The machila was thrown down as the carriers
fled, and at the same moment with a shrill trumpet
the elephant seized both the machila and its
occupant in his trunk, and proceeded to wreak
its unreasoning vengeance upon them. How
the unlucky victim escaped with his life must
ever remain a mystery, since he lost conscious-
ness immediately, only regaining it some hours
afterwards to find himself in a sorry plight, and
with most of his bones broken. But my own
opinion of such mishaps is that they are usually
perpetrated by elephants which have been
repeatedly hunted and, it may be, wounded. It
is generally known that this animal’s memory
is an extremely retentive one, and thus, on the
presence of a man making itself felt, it is quite
probable that the recollection of former suffering
may arouse the beast to a frenzy in which he
may viciously attack the person approaching
him. I have been informed that the elephants
preserved by the Government of the Union of
South Africa in the Cape Province have become
exceedingly dangerous; so much so that on
detecting the approach of a pursuer they have

1A hammock slung upon a pole and carried on the shoulders
of natives.

THE ELEPHANT 45

been known to turn en masse and hunt him. The
seriousness of such a position will be the better
appreciated when it is explained that so dense
is the jungle in which these animals occur, that
it is only possible to follow (or escape from)
them along the tracks which they themselves
have made.

Sir Samuel Baker was of opinion that the
elephant does not reach maturity until between
his fortieth and fiftieth year, and deduces from
certain doubtless well-pondered considerations
that he may reach an age of one hundred and fifty
years or over. With this view I entirely concur;
indeed, I think that his estimate of the length
of the elephant’s existence may be taken to be
by no means an exaggerated one, judging by
some of the immense wrinkled old beasts which
have passed close to me from time to time, and
have seemed to suggest, by their air of antiquity,
that they had long passed their one hundred and
fiftieth birthdays.

Their diet is surprisingly varied, and consists
of many different kinds of succulent roots,
foliage, fruits, and the inner bark of certain
trees. Moreover, as this animal feeds chiefly
by night, one more proof is afforded by this fact
of the astonishingly penetrating scent which,
during the dark hours, guides him in his choice
of the trees he particularly affects. He is an in-
considerate and wasteful feeder, tearing down large
branches, and leaving the greater portion of their
foliage untouched, as he will also strip quantities
of bark off forest trees, of which he will daintily

46 THE ELEPHANT

consume inappreciable morsels. I remember, a
few years ago, watching for some time a herd of
elephants, of which I had succeeded in approach-
ing to within a very short distance. It was
during the period of the ripening of the Marula
plum,’ of which elephants are inordinately fond.
At a distance of about 30 yards from where I
was concealed a fine tree full of this fruit was
growing. Around it the great beasts collected,
looking upward at the tiny golden globes, which
were, however, somewhat beyond their reach.
At length a large female backed some few yards,
and slightly lowering her massive head she
charged the tree, ramming it with the centre
of her forehead. The blow was terrific, and,
although the tree successfully resisted it, the
shock was immediately followed by a plentiful
shower of plums, which the surrounding elephants
proceeded to eat, picking them up daintily one
by one, and conveying them into their mouths
after a moment’s scrutiny. I have often thought
that had I been in the tree at the moment of
impact I should have had an uncommonly good
chance of being shaken down, so violent was the
blow it received. The above incident is not
unlike one which Baker himself witnessed, and
is doubtless of constant occurrence in the
elephant’s daily experiences.

From the foregoing it will perhaps have been
understood that the pursuit upon foot of an
animal endowed with such an astonishing—indeed,
sometimes almost uncanny degree of intelligence

1 Trachylobium Mozambicensts.

THE ELEPHANT 47

and vast physical strength and endurance, is an
undertaking which demands the utmost care
and caution, and which should never exclude any
precaution calculated to minimise its many
dangers and to assist towards a_ successful
issue.

Before the introduction of firearms into
Central Africa, and indeed to some extent at
the present time, these great animals were
captured by the native tribes in various ways.
There was, first of all, the pitfall method. The
pits were shaped like the letter \/, and were about
13 or 14 feet in depth. As many as ten or a
dozen of these would be prepared, as a rule near
to a river or other much frequented drinking-
place, and carefully concealed by light branches
and reeds sprinkled with earth. The herd,
moving by night, and arriving in the vicinity
of these pits, the first crash and loud roar of
dismay, betokening the capture of one of its
members, would occasion a mad stampede in
which one or two more might be caught. The
shape of the hole, bringing all the four feet
together, rendered the animals powerless, in
which condition they were speared to death
the following morning. Another method of
compassing their destruction was to surround
the herd with a ring of burning grass or jungle.
Through this, after having been reduced to a
condition of abject panic, the animals would
at length charge, to be speared by scores of
waiting savages at a moment when, blinded and
confused by the fire and smoke, they were too

48 THE ELEPHANT

terrified and paralysed to offer resistance. Again,
in certain portions of the country, an enormous
iron weapon, like the blade of a gigantic spear
weighted with a heavy mass of clay, is dropped
either by a concealed native from a high tree,
or so fixed to a horizontal limb that, on the
disturbance of a cord stretching across the path,
it is displaced and falls, if favourably, just at
the junction of the head with the elephant’s
body. The animal so stricken rushes madly
through the forest, each movement burying the
terrible point deeper and deeper in the flesh,
until at length the victim either bleeds to death
or succumbs to injury resulting to the spine.
Writers on North Africa tell of an extraordinary
race of Arabs, formerly dwellers on the borders
of Abyssinia, who hunted the elephant on horse-
back with no other weapon than a heavy two-
edged sword. Their method consisted of follow-
ing the herd until close up, when the hunter
by a slashing blow would sever the main tendon
of the elephant’s hind-leg, thus rendering it
powerless to advance or, indeed, to move. It
was then despatched. This has always struck
me as being a magnificent performance, and
one in comparison with which the finest achieve-
ments of the Spanish bull-ring pale into insigni-
ficance.

The hunting of elephants according to modern
ideas is assuredly one of the most exciting and
engrossing of all forms of sport. Not only is
their pursuit attended by an amount of fatigue
and, at times, hardship which would not be

THE ELEPHANT 49

experienced in the case of any other animal,
but the strain upon the nerves, produced by
long periods of excited expectation, is such as to
prove trying to persons of an excitable tempera-
ment, for, of a truth, no other pastime of which
I have knowledge and experience requires cooler
self-possession, or more of the exercise of that
in&timable quality called presence of mind.
It is a sport in which the successes are few
compared with the failures, and one wherein
there are not many trophies gained which do
not recall hours and hours of strenuous toil, of
hunger and thirst (especially the latter), of hope
deferred, of discouragement bordering upon
despair, but all richly, amply atoned for by the
hour of success so long in coming.

The usual practice, upon finding oneself in
the haunts ef these animals, is to rise some
time before dawn and, accompanied by one or
more good hunters experienced in tracking them,
and several additional reliable followers armed
with knives and axes for cutting out the tusks,
set out in quest of fresh spoor. If you are
fortunate, and recent traces—that is to say,
tracks of four or five hours old—be crossed,
these would be quite good enough to follow, and
should as a rule bring you up to where the
animal may be found resting by ten or eleven
o’clock. At this time the sun’s warmth, even
in winter, becomes considerable, and the ele-
phants, disliking heat intensely, having fed
through the night and drunk at dawn, are now
disposed to rest. For this purpose they usually

50 THE ELEPHANT

select the cool depths of the forest, or a shady
group of well-grown trees, and remain in the
shelter of the thick foliage until early afternoon,
when they move off once more.

Proximity to a herd which has been tracked
during the early hours of the day may usually
be determined by the warmth or coolness of
their mountainous droppings, by the moistness
of half-masticated pieces of bark or leaves which
have fallen from their mouths as they passed
along, by the appearance of the branches which
they have torn down, and by the strips of bark
peeled off the trunks of the trees. Additional
assistance may be derived, especially in grass-
covered country, from an examination of the
stems and blades of the grasses trodden under
foot, account being taken of their moisture or
dryness. In thick jungle the utmost caution
must be observed, a handful of crushed leaves
or, better still, a small bag of flour being con-
stantly shaken in the air for the purpose of
detecting any momentary change in the light,
variable woodland breezes.1 Care is especially
necessary to avoid stepping upon dry pieces of
stick or leaves, stumbling, or advancing in any
but the most noiseless possible manner. In
favourable circumstances it is perfectly extra-
ordinary, and at times a little disconcerting, how
close one can come to a number of these animals
without in any way exciting their suspicions.

On one occasion, in the Forest of Shupanga,

1 Perhaps the best wind-gauge of all is a marabou stork’s
tail-feather.

THE ELEPHANT 51

I had succeeded in getting up to a number of
elephants which were resting, as I have described,
about eleven o’clock in the forenoon. They
occupied a dense piece of forest which, thanks
to a steady breeze, I was enabled to reach
without disturbing any ofthem. Having crawled
noiselessly some distance into it, plainly hearing
the curious, loud intestinal rumblings which
betoken their nearness, I raised myself, at length,
behind the trunk of a sheltering tree. I found
about a dozen elephants in front of me, standing
about in various attitudes, the nearest being
no more than 15 yards away. Some were
fanning themselves with their enormous ears,
others swaying from side to side supporting their
immense weight alternately upon either foot. A
young female away to the left caressed a small,
apparently newly-born calf with her trunk,
whilst she swung her off fore-foot backwards and
forwards like a pendulum. Look where I would,
however, to my growing disappointment, I could
see nothing but females, until it seemed to me
that on the far side of the group I caught sight
of the gleam of what appeared to be larger
ivory. Slipping down to hands and knees
again, I commenced a careful crawl in a détour
to get on their farther flank. It was a tedious
and painful business, and my progress was slow.
At length, after carefully removing a piece of
stick to prevent it from snapping under my
knee, I glanced cautiously up, to find that I
was crouching almost under the stern of a large
wrinkled elephant apparently of great age, which

52 THE ELEPHANT

was certainly not more than 8 or 4 yards from
me. In trying to edge away my foot caught
in some kind of a trailing creeper, and at the
slight noise the great beast wheeled round,
spreading her enormous ears like two sails, and
raising her trunk suspiciously to smell the air.
It was an anxious moment. Had she advanced
one step I must have fired instantly, and, apart
from her sex, her tusks were small and insignifi-
cant, but as I remained absolutely motionless,
somewhat screened as I was by the low grass
and brushwood, she quite failed to discover me,
and after a moment or two, which I frankly
confess seemed to me to be much longer, she
dropped her ears and trunk, wheeled round,
and strolled away a few paces. In the end,
to my great mortification, I found there was no
bull with this group of elephants, so I was forced
to return to camp empty-handed. That was
bad luck, but not so bad as that which I experi-
enced a few years ago at the southern end of
Lake Nyasa.

I had just concluded an official tour which
had led me across that portion of the African
continent between the coast at Ibo and the lake I
have named, and, stopping to wait for one of the
Protectorate gunboats which had been kindly
sent for my expedition by the Governor at a
place called Fort Maguire, a large and populous
community of interesting Mohammedan Yaos,
the latter complained to me of the depredations
committed by the elephants among the maize
and millet fields. They even showed me the

THE ELEPHANT 53

footprints of a number of these animals which
had passed through the cultivation the preceding
night. I thereupon resolved to endeavour to
bag one the following day.

Starting away from the settlement while it
was still starlight, accompanied by several native
trackers possessed of local knowledge, one of
whom was attired in quite a fashionable frock
coat, we quickly struck the fresh spoor of five
bulls. After leading through the outskirts of
the gardens for some distance the foot-prints
entered the jungle and led towards the densely
forested promontory immediately to the south of
Makanjira’s old stronghold. It was here quite
apparent, from the vast quantity of various
indications, that many elephants frequented the
neighbourhood, and after a very easy piece of
tracking, whilst we were intent upon examining a
piece of freshly chewed bark, a slight swishing
noise attracted our attention a little to the left
of our line of advance, when suddenly the leafy
forest screen parted and, at a distance of 30 or
40 yards, a large elephant followed by several
others advanced directly towards us. He was a
fine beast, of great height, and from his lips there
projected two beautiful even tusks of yellow ivory,
possibly weighing sixty pounds apiece. I saw in a
flash that he had not detected our presence, and,
as we crouched down in the covering brushwood,
I determined to wait until he should pass and
endeavour to secure him with a temple shot.

But I had reckoned without the wind.
Scarcely had this plan of attack suggested itself

5

54 THE ELEPHANT

than I heard a short trumpet, and looked up just
in time to see his great, grey stern disappearing
into the forest whence they had emerged. To
take up the spoor of the fleeing elephants was the
work of a moment, and in less than an hour we
were once more drawing up to them. Again the
advance was regulated at a slow pace as, listening
intently, step by step, we quietly drew near. All
at once, down on our left, we heard an elephant
blowing through his trunk; a sound not unlike
some immense stallion blowing through his
nostrils. I took my double :450 cordite rifle and,
followed by the hunter bearing a spare weapon,
advanced in the direction of the sound. Presently,
down in a hollow still more to our left, we heard
the well-remembered rumbling and, advancing to
a cover of brushwood, frequently testing the light,
variable morning breeze, I reached a point on the
edge of the slight declivity at the foot of which,
and at no greater distance than 40 yards or so, the
five elephants were standing listening intently and
evidently very suspicious. Alas, they had halted
in grass which reached a point high enough com-
pletely to mask their ivory, and, as we looked down
upon them, we sought in vain for some indication
to show which was the fine tusker who had dis-
played himself to us so short a time before. There
they stood, one or two with ears and trunk ex-
tended to catch the slightest sound or taint, the
remainder with an expression as of heedless
contempt for their over-cautious companions’
ill-timed suspicions. Which was the big one?
Some few moments passed thus until, after a long

THE ELEPHANT 55

time as it seemed to me, a slight movement ex-
posed a dull gleam of ivory in the high herbage
as an exceptionally large beast took a step or two
forward. I felt sure he must be the tusker, and
my opinion was shared by my Yao companion.
I took a rapid sight, therefore, upon the depression
in front of the ear which marks the temple and
fired. The huge creature instantly fell to the
shot, whilst his companions wheeled round and,
trumpeting shrilly, dashed off into the jungle and
were speedily lost to sight.

We hurriedly descended and reached the
fallen monster, but one glance was sufficient to
fill me with disappointment and exasperation.
I had shot the wrong one. Instead of the
splendid tusks I fondly hoped I was adding to
my collection of ivory, my gaze fell upon two
small insignificant objects which on being weighed
barely turned the scale at 22 lbs. apiece. It was
bad luck, of course, so there was nothing for it
but to combine one’s entire stock of philosophy
and Christian fortitude, chop out the tusks and
go home. That night the gunboat was due to
arrive, and actually did so the following morning,
so I never had another chance to try conclusions
with the big tusker.

The nickel-covered -450 bullet killed this
elephant instantly. He required no second shot,
but I would here indite a word of advice to sports-
men which may save much disappointment, espe-
cially with those who habitually hunt elephants
with rifles of small bore. If, on having dropped
your beast with a head shot, he should so much as

56 THE ELEPHANT

move by the breadth of a finger in any part of his
vast body, run speedily but quietly behind him
and fire a shot straight through the centre of the
top of his skull. This will make assurance doubly
sure. I have known cases where elephants have
fallen with a bullet in the head apparently stone
dead, and the gratified hunter, having dashed
alter the herd to get, if possible, another shot,
has returned to find that the beast was only
stunned by a faultily directed bullet, and has got
up and gone off, ultimately to recover and very
likely to prove extremely dangerous and vicious
to future hunters.

The elephant killed by me on this occasion
was a splendid animal, and one of the largest I
have secured. His measurements taken on the
spot were as follows: Shoulder height, 10 ft.
114 in.; extreme length from end of tail to tip
of trunk, 26 ft. 2 in.; circumference of left ear,
15 ft. 9 in.; circumference of left fore-foot,
4 ft. 6 in.

One of the most unusual of my hunting ex-
periences connected with elephants took place in
the Cheringoma Mountains south of the Zambezi
on the occasion of my last hunting excursion into
that interesting region. At a certain point on
the plateau of this range, the elsewhere consistent
forest breaks up into a number of open, park-like
expanses whereon the grass is weak and thin,
and the exuberant growths which form the im-
penetrable jungles of the lower forest do not form
such a hindrance alike to movement and vision.
On the occasion referred to my camp was pitched

THE ELEPHANT 57

just on the inside of the forest, which here con-
sisted of stunted trees, on the edge of a wide open
space in the middle of which was a marshy bog
surrounded by high grass and rushes, a mere
muddy, stagnant, weed-covered pool. The moon,
I remember, was very near the full, and the calm
beauty of the African night shed a soothing
influence, heightened by the softening half-tones
of the clear moonlight. I must have been asleep
some time, for after a day’s elephant spooring
one turns in early, when I became conscious of
an excited whisper at the doorway of my tent.
““Ngunya, Ngunya, etébo zinawa”’ (Sir, Sir,
the elephants are coming). To persons living
in Europe, the even current of whose lives is
seldom ruffled by events of more serious import
than a descent of poachers on a well-stocked
covert, or the nocturnal bursting of the bathroom
cistern, the intense excitement of so momentous
a communication, especially in the middle of the
night, may not be fully appreciable, but, ac-
companied as it was in this case by the weird,
romantic environment of the soft African night,
and the charm of the mysterious forest, he would
have been a laggard, indeed, who did not leap from
his bed and, in nothing more than pyjamas and
foot-wear, seize a brace of rifles and hurriedly seek
the open. For a few moments I perceived noth-
ing, as my servants and hunters, finger on lip,
faced towards the dusky forest listening intently.
Then there reached us a low, querulous whimper,
as of a female calling to her calf, and immediately
afterwards a swishing of leaves followed by the

58 THE ELEPHANT

erash of a breaking branch. I estimated that
the elephants must still be some few hundreds
of yards away, and this proved to be the case,
for, gazing intently along the line of forest trees, I
suddenly saw two or three advance into the open
and enter the belt of high rushes which fringed
the water. These were followed by others in
twos and threes, until between twenty and thirty
elephants, looking surprisingly small in the
deceptive moonbeams, had plunged into the
papyrus and reeds, in which they were practically
engulfed. I immediately struck off into the trees
to make the necessary détour to approach them,
but as I did so heard the unmistakable sounds
of still more members of the herd in the forest,
where they had lagged behind. I therefore con-
cealed myself in the shelter of some brushwood
and awaited events. From the noises borne
towards me by the steady night wind it was
apparent that they were slowly approaching,—
that is to say, they were feeding leisurely towards
me in a way that would bring them across my
front. Gradually the huge beasts drew nearer,
until their internal stomach rumblings were per-
fectly audible, as was also the hoarse rattling noise
made when they blew through their trunks.
At length, a little to my right front, the move-
ment in the grass and rushes became more marked
and a black, sinuous, snaky-looking trunk ap-
peared over the concealing herbage, followed by
another and another. The loud sucking noise
made by the withdrawal of their immense feet
from a depth of many inches of adhesive mud grew

THE ELEPHANT 59

louder and louder, and at length the grass opened
and an immense head pushed its way through.
This animal I took to be an old female, as the
ivory she carried, so far as it was visible, seemed
insignificant. It was difficult to judge sex by
her height, as one could not be sure how much leg
was embedded in the mud. She continued on her
way quite unconscious of danger, and was followed
by two other elephants,—one a young bull with
small but even tusks, and another whose ivory I
was unable to distinguish. At that moment my
hunter touched me excitedly on the knee, and
pointed to where the first of the herd had emerged
from the forest at the moment when a large bull
with fine ivory strolled leisurely out from the
trees. Even at the distance at which he displayed
himself I saw that he possessed fine massive tusks,
and I was consumed by an agony of doubt as to
how to get a shot at him. Almost in less time
than it takes to write the words he plunged into
the rushes and was lost to sight as he mingled
with the other members of the herd. It was quite
clear that the rearward elephants would follow
in the path of those now passing me, so, hastily
abandoning my position I took a rifle in each hand
and dashed off through the trees, if possible to head
them off. Arrived at a point near the end of the
marsh where the rushes dwindled to a height no
longer capable of affording cover to so large an
animal, I again concealed myself, and waited
their coming with an excitement almost painful
in its intensity. At length, after what to me
appeared a long wait, but was probably not more

60 THE ELEPHANT

than a few minutes, they began to appear 70 or 80
yards away, and nothing I have ever seen before
or since in the wilds of Africa ever equalled the
grandeur of the sight they presented. They
appeared to glide noiselessly out of the rushes,
and, looking black and massive in the moonlight,
the vast rounded forms came almost straight
towards me, quietly, and without any appearance
of haste. It was ghostly, unreal, weird. I edged
quietly away to get more on the flank as the dark
mass drew slowly nearer. At that moment a
loud, shrill trumpet screamed out from some-
where to my right, and, glancing up, I saw that
all the foremost of the elephants had wheeled
round and, with trunks aloft and ears extended,
were gazing in the direction of my tent. There
was one moment of hesitation, and the next they
had, as it seemed, disappeared. They simply
appeared to melt away, and the only sign which
marked their progress was an occasional crash
far off in the forest as they dashed away in full
flight. I never fired a shot, and, although as soon
as it was light I took up their spoor, I never saw
them again. I have no doubt that whilst I was
anxiously waiting for them to pass me, one of
those exasperating, light, variable currents of
baffling air so common in the high forest country,
had betrayed the whereabouts of my hidden
carriers. The effect was instantaneous. Such
are the heartrending disappointments for which
the hunter of elephants must be prepared.

I used to suppose that there was no reason
why African elephants could not, in course of time,

THE ELEPHANT 6]

come to be captured and domesticated or, at all
events, trained to fulfil some useful mission in the
Great Continent’s future development, much in
the same way as has been done in India; but I
have since come to feel that the difficulties in the
way of such a project would be practically in-
surmountable, and, even if it proved successful,
it would be hampered by so many disadvantages
as completely to nullify the benefits hoped for.
To begin with, the conveyance of a complete
kedah establishment to capture the great beasts,
from India to Africa, accompanied as it would
necessarily be by a numerous and highly paid
trained staff, would be excessively costly. In
the second place, the Indian animal being much
. smaller, it is doubtful if he would be capable
of controlling his larger, fiercer, and more active
African congener. Moreover, as has been pointed
out by competent authorities on the subject,
the herds of African elephants having such an
immense radius of movement, the difficulties
of their capture would be heightened, and the
usual deliberate arrangement of the kedah estab-
lishment rendered practically impossible. Finally,
even if the domestication of African elephants
proved successful, the necessary outlay for their
maintenance would render their employment
for ordinary purposes far too costly; for whilst
an elephant consumes 800 to 1000 lbs. weight of
food per day, and will only carry about three-
quarters of a ton, the same weight can be con-
veyed by twenty-eight porters, whose daily
ration of rice or maize would not exceed 56 lbs,

62 THE ELEPHANT

At the same time, some success has attended
the efforts of the authorities of the Congo
Free State in this direction. These, by dint
of capturing the animals at an early age,
have been successful in rearing and training
them in various useful branches of station and
district work. There is even understood to be
a dépot for the reception and education of young
elephants on the River Welle, and already a
number of them, variously estimated, are stated
to be in active employment. In this way, of
course, some considerable measure of success
may be attained, but as to whether the practice
can ever be adopted on a large scale must depend
upon the adaptability of the African native as a
mahout, and the suitability of the various regions
in which the beasts may come to be employed
from the point of view of yielding sufficient
fodder for their daily needs.

CHAPTER IV
RHINOCEROS—HIPPOPOTAMUS

THE eminent French naturalist Cuvier describes
the black rhinoceros, the only variety existing
in the districts to which this book devotes itself,
as an animal of solitary habits, and much fiercer
than the other four known members of this
unlovely and unnecessary, if interesting, family.
Speaking of these beasts as a whole, the authority
mentioned draws particular attention to the
singular peculiarity, not widely known, found
in the so-called horns. As a matter of fact, the
terrible weapons which the rhinoceros carries
upon his thick nasal bone are not composed of
horn at all. They are formed of hairs—long,
coarse hairs glued, as it were, together by some
curiously powerful conglutinating substance, and
presenting, except at the base, all the appear-
ance of horn of the hardest description. If,
however, a section of this substance be ex-
amined under a microscope, the capillary
tubes composing it, glued together, are at
once readily discernible. The foregoing is
perhaps the chief peculiarity of this re-
markable animal, the singular position of
whose defensive weapons doubtless inspired

the legends of ancient times which con-
63

64 THE RHINOCEROS

nected themselves with that fabulous form, the
unicorn.

The variety found throughout Central Africa,
and, I believe, as far south as the North-Eastern
Transvaal, is identical with that known to all
great game hunters as the “‘ Black Rhinoceros,”’
although its colouring is not strikingly dissimilar
from that of the so-called “‘ white’ variety.
It was, I think, at one time supposed that its
horns were equal in point of length, and several
old writers on the fauna of Africa have adopted
this impression, of which I have, however, never
yet seen an instance. As a rule the horns found
on the Zambezian rhinoceros are smaller than
those carried by animals found farther north,
the largest shot by me within the district we
are considering measuring 25} and 123 inches
anterior and posterior respectively. This, for
the Zambezia region, was an exceptional measure-
ment, anterior horns as a rule seldom exceeding
—or attaining—20 inches. I remember reading
in one of Mr. F. Vaughan Kirby’s books a state-
ment that this at one time prominent hunter
had found in some village, in a neighbouring
territory through which he happened to be
passing, a pair of horns measuring 294 and
194 inches. This measurement I have never
seen approached, and, if no mistake was made,
I can only regard it as probable that the horns
were brought from some distant part of the
country. In British East Africa, however,
specimens of this animal have been shot possess-
ing horns greatly exceeding in length those I

THE RHINOCEROS 65

have mentioned. On the slopes of Mount Kenia,
it is stated, a fine bull was recently killed with
a horn measuring slightly over 40 inches, and
even this measurement is said to have been
exceeded in the same part of the country.

The black rhinoceros is a large and powerful
beast, probably weighing at maturity almost if
not quite three tons. Only one calf is produced
by the female at birth, which takes place, it is
believed, during the early rains. The little
beast rapidly acquires the necessary activity
to enable him to follow his mother at a great
pace, and is a perfect miracle of disproportionate
ugliness for several years. But, considering its
immense and somewhat unwieldy size, the speed
with which the rhinoceros can get over the ground
is extraordinary. He moves at a bounding
gallop, not unlike that of an immense pig. Baker
points out in one of his publications that the
length of the hind leg from the thigh to the
hock is the factor which affords the tremendous
springing power which is the secret of this animal’s
vast speed, and with this I quite agree. as
otherwise it could never reach such rapidity of
motion with the remarkable smoothness which is
another of its peculiarities.

Possessing powers of scent almost if not
quite as keen as those of the elephant, great
quickness of hearing, unbounded irascibility,
and the curiosity of an ill-regulated woman, the
rhinoceros has _ nevertheless, fortunately for
mankind, been furnished with very poor eyesight,
a peculiarity to which many a hunter doubtless

66 THE RHINOCEROS

owes his life. As a general rule he avoids swamps,
preferring dry, somewhat elevated tablelands,
or belts of thorny jungle at the foot of a mountain
range. Of extremely regular habits, he drinks
before dawn and after sunset, frequenting as a
rule the same watering-places. After the morning
drink he feeds until as late as eight or nine o’clock,
or on wet or cloudy mornings somewhat later,
and then, entering some dense jungle or thorny
belt, he proceeds to take his midday siesta. In
spite of this usual practice, however, I have
seen rhinoceros lying asleep, stern on to the
wind, under the shelter of a tree in open grass
country as late as noon. Contrary to the
universal habit of charging on scent with which
these animals are usually credited, in the case
I am referring to the animal jumped up and
trotted briskly away down wind, his head and
tail in the air, without any hostile demonstration
whatsoever.

The favourite food of these beasts consists
of the lower shoots and foliage of various trees
and shrubs. Great predilection is displayed, in
portions of the country where it occurs, for a
kind of thorny acacia; he also devours certain
roots, and a low-growing ground-plant found
on wide, treeless plains. Acacias, however, often
denote the presence of rhinoceros, exhibiting
clean-cut depredations where the powerful,
scissor-like teeth and prehensile lips have pro-
duced a topiary effect similar to that which
would have followed the application of a pair
of gardener’s shears. With curious regularity,

To face p. 66.

RHINOCEROS.

THE RHINOCEROS 67

moreover, the rhinoceros, if undisturbed, visits,
over considerable periods, the same places for the
purpose of depositing his dung, which may
sometimes be found in great piles, and forms
another valuable indication of his presence in
a district. It closely resembles that of a hippo-
potamus, but is somewhat darker in colour.

As I have already stated, the haunts of
rhinoceros are to be found in sparse upland
forest, on almost bare plains, and in rocky,
thorny jungle. It was in such surroundings as
the last-named that I came upon a very satis-
factory bull in the beautiful Gorongoza region
a few years ago. I was returning to my main
camp on the Vunduzi River, after an unsuccessful
search for elephants, and as usual was marching,
with Lenco my elephant hunter, some few
hundreds of yards ahead of my small party of
native carriers. The Vunduzi, at the time of
year at which the incident took place—namely,
the middle of the winter season—is a small
silvery stream of clear, cold water, splashing its
musical way through a splendid confusion of
big granite boulders, and under a leafy canopy
of forest green. Here an open, grassy space
where you could look upward at the mountain’s
scarred, precipitous sides; there a stretch of
thin forest where the stony ground yielded but
poor nourishment for the multitudinous grasses
which struggled for life. Small tongues of
listening sand pushed their way into the crystal-
clear water, and on one of these, at an early
hour of the morning, we found the fresh spoor

68 THE RHINOCEROS

of a passing rhinoceros, whose three-horn foot
divisions rendered the identification of the beast
a matter of ease. lLengo’s eyes sparkled as
he whispered ‘‘ Pwété”’ (rhinoceros), and pro-
ceeded in his inimitable manner to take up the
spoor. For some distance this led down stream,
and here the great beast had evidently browsed
his way leisurely along, morsels of leaves and
twigs found in the track being still wet with his
saliva. Noiseless as shadows we now struck
into the woodland, passing through clumps of
feathery bamboo, and skirting great earth-red
ant-hills. Here and there, where we traversed
hard, stony ground thinly covered with fallen
acacia leaves, the tracking became difficult, even
the great weight of the rhinoceros appearing to
make little or no impression. Still the hunters
held steadily on. An hour passed in this way,
when at length, approaching a thick patch of
thorny bushes, my dusky companion stopped
and, head on one side, listened intently. As he
did so his usually tranquil features leaped into
animation, and, pointing a lean but authori-
tative finger at the cover, he nodded shortly
to indicate that the beast had evidently fixed
upon it for the enjoyment of his siesta. Upon
this point we were not left long in doubt, for, with
a sudden crash, he charged out of the bushes
and passed us at a great rate, producing as he
did so that curious whiffing sound which has
been likened with some justice to the exhaust
of a small steam-engine. As he appeared at
first to be coming almost over us, Lengo evi-

THE RHINOCEROS 69

dently thought, as most natives do, that he was
attacking us, but the merest glance was sufficient
to show that nothing was farther from his mind.
I had just time to push up the safety bolt of my
"450 cordite rifle, when he was almost abreast
of us, and my nickel-covered bullet caught
him fair and square in the shoulder. He fell
heavily, squealing like an immense pig, whereupon
a second bullet behind the ear put an end to his
troubles for good. Luckily for us, this beast
did not appear to be attended by the almost
invariable rhinoceros - bird (buphaga),1 or we
should in all probability never have seen him.
I concluded that he must have winded us when
half asleep, and his invincible curiosity then got
the better of him.

Round about the southern slopes erd foothills
of Gorongoza Mountain, which I have endeavoured
to describe in my book, Portuguese East Africa,
there existed a considerable number of rhinoceros
a few years ago, judging by the frequency with
which their spoor was encountered, and only
a few days after the incident I have just
related, another very fine bull was lost by me
in the same district. Curiously enough, on this
occasion I had traced him for several miles
down to high, reedy grass bordering somewhat
swampy country, where, in the usual course
of events, rhinoceros would not be expected
to occur. Here the exasperating “‘ rhino-bird ”’
undoubtedly alarmed him, for I only got one
glimpse of the massive body and horns before

1 The Ox-picker.
6

70 THE RHINOCEROS

he plunged into the undergrowth and dis-
appeared.

I have shot several specimens of the black
rhinoceros in the northern portion of the Queli-
mane district, where they are still to be found in
considerable numbers. Here this animal dis-
plays to the full his annoyance at the proximity
of caravans of natives, a peculiarity by no means
confined, as supposed by some, to those of
British East Africa. I remember a story, which
was told to me by one of the Portuguese ad-
ministrators in the Lugella country, of a mis-
fortune which happened to his accompanying
kitchen-staff on an occasion when he was travelling
in the interior. The pot-carriers seemed to have
got in the way of a large rhinoceros, which
charged the batterie de cuisine to such purpose
that, as the unfortunate proprietor told me
almost with tears in his eyes, not content with
breaking by his tremendous impact the greater
part of the sauce-pans and kettles, he added
insult to injury by retiring at full gallop with an
unreplaceable aluminium stew-pan impaled se-
curely upon his anterior horn. I have often
tried, with but partial success, to picture to my-
self the dissipated appearance which the rash
beast must have presented as he dashed through
the forest thus Quixotically helmed.

Hunting some few years ago in the southern
part of the Quelimane district of Zambezia, I
encountered a very large bull, the possessor, in-
deed, of the finest pair of horns it has been my
good fortune to obtain. His spoor was first per-

THE RHINOCEROS val

ceived close to water, and for a time I was un-
certain as to whether it might be that of a
hippopotamus. As soon, however, as I got on
to drier ground I saw unmistakably the kind ot
beast we were following, and lay out along the
tracks with an eagerness which my native com-
panions—raw Zambezi villagers—were far from
sharing. After a tew miles of easy and rapid
progress the spoor led us to the edge of the usual
thorny grass patch, and one of so gloomy and for-
bidding an aspect that it seemed a likely enough
resting-place for the animal’s daily nap. It was
very thick, and appeared to me to be one of the
least desirable of places into which to follow a
dangerous beast. I therefore swarmed up a
neighbouring palm tree, and, having ascertained
that the thicket was not one of very wide di-
mensions—apparently not much more than an
acre—I resolved to set it on fire on the windward -
side, and sent men round for that purpose.
Presently a thin, blue smoke arose over the
jungle, accompanied by the crackling of many
exploding grass stems, then I heard a tremendous
commotion and a warning shout. Following its
almost invariable custom, the rhinoceros dashed
down wind, and thus broke cover not much out
of a straight line between me and his retreat.
He seemed, indeed, to be coming almost straight
in my direction as I stood in the friendly shelter
of a good, thick tree trunk, but luckily sheered off
somewhat as, in a few rapid bounds, he drew near.
At a distance of about 20 yards I gave him a °577
solid bullet high up on the shoulder as he bounded

72 THE RHINOCEROS

past. This brought him down squealing lustily,
as they appear always to do. However, he
speedily recovered himself, and made off at a great
rate. Having only a single-barrelled rifle of
somewhat antiquated type, 1 was unable to get a
second shot in until he was well under way, when
I fired again for the root of his tail, but ap-
parently without result. Loading the rifle again,
I dashed after him, and soon came upon a thick
blood-spoor which showed that the wound was a
mortal one, its frothy appearance indicating that
the animal’s lungs had been pierced. After a
short interval of sprinting and fast walking I came
up with him going very groggily through open
forest. Iyvreached him just as he began to stumble,
and as he was in the act of lying down I gave him
a bullet in the neck which broke the spinal
column. He was in very fine condition, and his
horns, 251 inches and 128 inches, are the finest I
possess.

Before leaving the subject of these interesting
animals I should like to remind those who may
one day go in pursuit of them that various portions
of their anatomy can be made into most fas-
cinating trophies, of which, as a rule, the hunter
does not make half enough. I have in my pos-
session, fashioned from the feet of the black
rhinoceros, cigar and cigarette boxes, match
stands and a jewel case; whilst the hide of
another furnished me with a most uncommon
and really beautiful polished table, which would
rather resemble old, semi-transparent amber if
it were not for the surrounding edging of natural

THE WHITE RHINOCEROS 73

skin, which proclaims at once the nature of the
material.

Although the square-mouthed, so-called
“ White’? Rhinoceros is not found at any
point in the region of Zambezia, some passing
reference to this remarkable form may not
be without interest. Mr. Selous has informed
me that when he was hunting in Matabele-
land about the year 1872, these immense beasts
—second in size only to the elephant — were
still so plentiful that, once away from the in-
habited areas, he found it not unusual, without
any special exertion, to come upon as many
as five or six a day. On one occasion he suc-
ceeded in killing a large male with a horn of the
amazing measurement of more than 50 inches,
whilst I have reason to believe that even this
gigantic length has been greatly exceeded in other
cases.

Up to about the year 1890, the white rhino-
ceros was found, although no longer plentifully,
in Mashonaland between the Hunyani and the
Angwe Rivers. A Mr. Coryndon, I believe, suc-
ceeded in obtaining one or two there a year or two
afterwards, and the last of which, so far as I am
aware, we have any record was killed in the same
district about the year 1894. The only surviving
members of this interesting family in South
Africa are at present preserved in the Zululand
Game Reserve, and are said to number rather less
than a score. Of late, unhappily, these animals
appear to have been dogged by the very genius
of evil fortune, since, I learn, one very fine bull

74 THE WHITE RHINOCEROS

was recently killed in a fight, which must have
been worth witnessing, with the solitary elephant
the Reserve boasts ; two more broke away from
their sanctuary, and were speared by natives into
whose gardens they had penetrated; and a fourth
fell over a precipice during a severe thunder-
storm, and died of the injuries he received.

Aiter many years of uncertainty—almost of
despair—lest the great white rhinoceros should
be upon the point of becoming extinct, it was
suddenly rediscovered, I believe in the Lado
Enclave on the Nile; and it has since been
ascertained that at this point, as also on por-
tions of the Upper Congo and in the Western
Soudan, it exists in such numbers as to set at
rest for centuries to come all fear of its final
extermination.

The extraordinary break which occurs be-
tween the two far-removed portions of the African
Continent wherein the white rhinoceros occurs,
extending, as it does, from the South Central
Zambezi to the Upper Congo, is very difficult to
account for. Ihave, however, sometimes thought
that this animal may originally have worked its
way down through the western central portion of
the continent of Africa at a time when the great
forests of the Congo were as yet undeveloped, and
before they stretched so far to the eastward as
they do at the present day. Spreading over
Mashonaland, Matabeleland, and the country to
the south, these animals were thus, in the course
of ages, completely cut off from their northern
brethren by the gradually eastward-spreading

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS To

forests of the Congo basin, into which. it is well
known, white rhinoceros will not penetrate. After
the lapse of many centuries, therefore. had they
felt any disposition to return to mingle once
more with their northern relatives, they would
have found it impossible to pass round the vast
expanse of dense forest, their path being barred
by the upper waters of the Zambezi, at that time
indisputably a much deeper and more important
stream than it is at present. Complete isolation,
then, for many centuries overtook these southern
migrants, and whilst they grew dangerously near
to extinction in the south, their kindred beyond
the Congo forest lands tasted the sweets, had they
but known it, of a peace and comparative free-
dom from danger to which those in the south have
for many years been strangers.

Throughout practically all the rivers and
streams of Zambezia, that immense aquatic
form, the Hippopotamus, occurs still in con-
siderable numbers. When I first ascended the
Zambezi, nearly twenty vears ago, that river,
and its tributary the Shiré, were the abiding-
places of many large herds of these animals.
I have seen them sleeping on the sandbanks at
the head of the Chinde mouth in the warm sun-
shine of midday, whilst in the Shiré they were so
numerous, for some years thereafter, as to be a
source of danger to the many native canoes which
daily plied upon the river. Of late, however, in
consequence of the increasing number of steamers
and barges now running, and to the misplaced per-
severance with which they have been fired upon,

76 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

and doubtless wounded from time to time, by a
class of so-called ‘‘ sportsmen” travelling back-
ward and forward, they have largely withdrawn
from the lower waters of the Zambezi, doubtless
seeking, in the less-frequented outlets of the delta
and the extensive swamps which lie near its
mouth to the south of the great river, that security
which its main channels will perhaps never again
afford them. But, putting aside the Zambezi and
its tributaries, practically every stream of that
wide region affords a home and a refuge for this
great amphibian, and he can be found in them all
by the seeker after specimens.

Although not occurring in any portion of the
globe except in the continent of Africa, the range
of the hippopotamus within that enormous
division of the earth’s surface is.extraordinarily
wide. From the Nile to the waters of Zululand,
and from one side of the continent to the other,
it still exists in great numbers wherever sufficient
of its favourite element is found to afford it a
permanent home.

The male measures about 14 ft. from the snout
to the tip of his tail, and is an immense and heavy
animal, coming in point of weight probably next
to the elephant, exceeding that of the black, and
probably even that of the white, rhinoceros. He
has, moreover, the distinction of possessing the
largest mouth of any African mammal. A full-
grown male would, I feel sure, be found to weigh
nearly, if not quite, 4 tons, judging from the
difficulty experienced by me some few years ago
at Quelimane in getting one hoisted by the steam-

"SOI V LO dO dE EEL

yh ty ares og

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS XT

winch of a large Norwegian steamer on to the
vessel’s deck.

They are essentially amphibious, and indifferent
as to whether the water they inhabit be fresh or
brackish or salt. I have seen them at the en-
trance to the Chinde River, at a point which is
practically on the seacoast, and I am informed
that they may still be observed at the mouths of
some of the smaller streams which discharge into
the Indian Ocean between that point and Queli-
mane, as also in those to the northward. It has
been said by some writers that the specific gravity
of these animals is such that they are thereby
enabled to run along the bed of a river with
great speed. With this statement, however. I
do not agree. I have watched them from a
position high over the clear waters of the Shiré
River above the Murchison Falls on several cc-
casions, and I am satisfied that their usual method
of progression under water is by swimming.
This they can undoubtedly do at a great rate;
moreover. as I have observed in the Macuze and
Licungu Rivers, as also in the Lugella. they can
successfully breast extraordinarily swift currents
which would probably not be attempted by any
other beast except an otter.

The hippopotamus is a nocturnal animal.
During the night he leaves the water, and, follow-
ing the network of tunnel-like ‘ hippo-tracks,”
as they have come universally to be called, which
he pierces along the banks of the streams wherein
he spends his days, he makes his way leisurely to
the feeding grounds. A vegetarian by habit and

78 {THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

conviction, within the wide limits of the diet of
his special predilection he displays a considerable
catholicity of taste. In surroundings far removed
from human habitation, his inordinate appetite
gluts itself upon grasses, sedges, and the young
shoots of reeds ; but woe betide the sugar plan-
tation, the native maize garden or millet field,
whither his errant steps may lead him—it would
have been better that it had been stricken simul-
taneously by several converging tempests. In
the night, during the dry weather, his wanderings
do not usually lead him far from the river or lake
in which his days are passed; but in the rainy
season, when much of the low-lying country is at
times submerged, he will wander far away from
his natural haunts, to the no small alarm of
individuals he may meet on the path, and to the
serious detriment of areas under cultivation. In
this way sometimes these animals may be found
in waters far from their usual place of resort; but
this is usually only because of their dislike to travel-
ling by day on terra firma. They would thus
infinitely prefer to seek a day’s lodging or im-
mersion in unknown or unaccustomed pools, and
there await the shadow of the following nightfall,
to returning overland late in the morning in cir-
cumstances which might conceivably give occa-
sion for explanations of an embarrassing charac-
ter. Be this as it may, the hippopotamus is a
night bird, and all the sins and depredations which
have been laid to his charge have almost in-
variably been perpetrated under cover of the
darkness.

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 79

By day, if disturbed, they instantly plunge,
and either swim away under water or remain
concealed until the impending danger has passed
them by. For this purpose they are endowed
with the power of remaining below the surface for
periods variously estimated, but believed to reach
a maximum of ten or twelve minutes. They then
rise to the surface, and sometimes silently, some-
times with a curious sobbing bellow, audible for
great distances, they release the pent-up contents
of their enormous lungs almost without disturbing
the surface, take in a fresh supply, and sink once
more from view.

The hippopotamus breeds all the year round,
producing one calf at a birth, the period of
gestation being between eight and nine months.
After the birth of the calf, the cows, as in the cases
of other animals, become extremely savage, and
doubtless many of the stories told of attacks upon
and overturnings of canoes and other craft may
have their origin in some unintended intrusion
upon the resting-place of a watching mother. I
have heard it stated that whilst very young and
helpless the baby hippos at times fall victims to
the attacks of crocodiles, and it has been even said
that several females, as the time for the interesting
event approaches, will be at pains to rid the pool
or other expanse of water near which their off-
spring are born from the presence of these rep-
tiles. In any case, for a long time after birth,
the maternal instinct is touchingly strong, and
the tiny animals pass the greater part of their
time standing on the backs and shoulders of their

80 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

respective dams, who are ever on the watch for
the approach of danger.

The males are very pugnacious, and the com-
bats which take place between them when they
are found in large numbers are of nightly oc-
currence. I have often listened to the tremendous
roars by which their struggles are accompanied,
as I have also seen on the skins of old bulls the
marks of the terrible injuries they inflict upon
each other. These animals are invariably very
fat, and their meat, not unlike coarse beef, is by
no means to be despised. They are gifted with
good sight and hearing, and their scent is quite
remarkably acute.

Some years ago in the Quelimane River,
returning in my boat from a morning among the
wild-duck of Chuabo Dembi, I was somewhat
annoyed at the aggressive conduct of a hippopot-
amus which frightened the lives out of my native
boatmen by a series of demonstrations which I
must own were very far from reassuring. At
length, getting somewhat alarmed for the safety
of my smart gig,—which, moreover, was Govern-
ment property,—I waited for a suitable oppor-
tunity, and at a distance of about 15 or 20 yards
I planted a °303 nickel-covered bullet low down
between the beast’s eye and ear. She dis-
appeared instantly from view, but the water was
shallow, and I felt convinced that my shot had
proved instantly fatal. We were therefore pre-
paring to “feel”? for her with an oar when the
tiny head of a calf appeared above water, and my
materially-minded boatmen exhorted me to shoot

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 81

again. It was, of course, a pity none of us had
noticed the little creature before, as, had we done
so, the mother’s life might have been spared—if,
that is. she had dropped her unpleasantly ag-
gressive tactics ; but there it was, and so we made
up our minds at all hazards to catch it. First
of all, the mother’s body had to be dragged as
high up on a neighbouring sandbank as eight
lusty arms could move it—and that, needless to
say, was not very far: but the manceuvre was so
far successful that the calf. which was about the
size of a full-grown pig, at once drew near to its
unconscious parent. My head boatman then
essayed the capture. followed half-heartedly by
the remainder of the crew. He succeeded in
getting hold of one of the little beast’s hind legs ;
there was a momentary struggle, and both the
combatants gallantly took the water—the calf to
make its escape. and the boatman impelled by the
momentum it administered to him. Some time
elapsed before the little creature again came forth.
and, in the meantime, the receding tide had ex-
posed considerably more of the parent’s carcass ;
so another attempt was made by several of us
together, and again. after an irresistible scatter-
ing. he sought safety in the water. During the
interval which now ensued we had leisure to
concert somewhat different tactics, and when the
favourable moment again presented itself, the
boatmen en masse precipitated themselves upon
their quarry and bore it down by sheer weight of
numbers, whilst I roped it up with the mainsail
sheet.

82 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

For three months young Jumbo, as he came to
be called, was the chief feature of Quelimane, and
my house became each evening the recognised
lounging-place for all the lazy and curious Portu-
guese in the district. He speedily became touch-
ingly tame, and took his three wash-hand basins
of warm, sweetened, preserved milk per day with
a relish which aroused hope of approaching inde-
pendence of the feeder. The drollery of his some-
what elephantine antics was perfectly irresistible,
whilst his grave imitations in the duck-pond, in
rear of the consular premises, of the habits and
manners of the mature beasts, was a spectacle it
was difficult to behold unmoved. I intended to
present him to the Zoological Society, but fate
decided otherwise, for in the end, to my great
regret, he faded away and died.

One of the most remarkable features of the
hippopotamus is his mouth and its contents.
The principal teeth consist of four enormous
incisors above and below. The lower canine
teeth—so to term them—are curved into the
shape almost of a perfect semicircle, and placed
together will usually, in the case of a large bull,
span the waist of a full-grown man. The upper
teeth are by no means so impressive, either the
grinders or the incisors; but between the lower
“canine” teeth two enormous straight tusks ap-
pear, sometimes fully 18 inches or more in length,
which I suppose are employed in digging out roots
in the same way as that in which the elephant
uses his tusks. These, and the two immense
curved teeth to which I have referred, are doubt-

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 88

less the means whereby the roots of subaqueous
plants are collected ; but viewed when the creature
opens the vast, yawning, pink chasm in which
they are set, they present an appearance at once
interesting and impressive. The enamel upon
these teeth is extremely hard, and the ivory of
which they consist of so fine a grain that many
years ago it commanded a high price, and was
much esteemed by dentists for the manufacture
of artificial teeth.

The hippopotamus, as I think I have men-
tioned elsewhere, is greatly, and far from unjustly,
dreaded by the natives for the stupid habit he
has formed of at times upsetting their boats and
canoes. Journeying by these means, as I have
often had occasion to do in the rivers of Zambezia,
sometimes it has been with the utmost difficulty
that the paddlers could be induced to pass these
animals, and then they would only do so as close
to the bank as possible. Although I have never
sustained any inconvenience in this way, I have
seen canoes upset, and I am acquainted with
persons who have suffered considerable losses from
this cause. I can imagine no position more
desperate than to find oneself suddenly and with-
out warning in the heart of Africa, stripped of all
one’s belongings—firearms, medicines, and pro-
visions—by the overturning of a canoe in the deep
and rapid streams one is obliged occasionally to
cross in that country ; and one’s appreciation of
the crushing misfortune is by no means increased
by the reflection that it may have resulted from
the perpetration of a practical joke. This sup-

84 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

position, though it may be regarded as rather
far-fetched, is heightened by the fact that, having
overturned you, the huge, humorous amphibian
makes no effort to do you any further harm. He
simply raises his head out of the water a few yards
away, and watches you struggle up the muddy
river-bank, with a grave yet playful expression
which seems to say, “‘ I hope you don’t mind, but
it was a lark.”

Sir Samuel Baker in one of his books recounts
an instance of extraodinary ferocity on the part
of one of these beasts which I should be inclined
to regard as rare even for the Nile, in which
it occurred. After charging the paddle-wheel
steamer which was engaged in towing his daha-
beah, and breaking off a number of floats, it
dropped astern and rammed the vessel with its
projecting tusks, a dangerous leak being only
stopped with great difficulty. I have never heard
of any similar instance on the Zambezi, where, so
far as I am aware, steamers of all kinds have been
from the beginning entirely tree from attack.

Judging by my personal experience of the
hippopotamus—and I have seen many hundreds
of these animals during the last twenty years—I
cannot share the opinions of other writers who
describe them as being fierce and dangerous
animals in the water or out. Its so-called attacks
upon boats and canoes are, in my opinion, in the
majority of cases, the outcome of either curiosity
or stupidity, leavened perhaps with more than a
suspicion of practical joking. Still, no doubt
instances have occurred where the beast meant

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 85

mischief, and where his conduct showed every
symptom of anger and ferocity ; but my view of
such cases, or many of them, is that they have
been perpetrated by some unfortunate beast
which in the past, as the result of gunshot wounds
or other provocation, has conceived a strong dis-
taste for humanity as a whole, memories of his
wrongs prompting him to wreak vengeance upon
his tormentors in the same way that an elephant
will under similar stimulus. I fancy that the
responsibility for a great many of these acts of
aggression which are laid to the charge of the
hippopotamus should of right be laid upon the
persons who have futilely wounded them in the
past, and caused them pain and torture for which
it is hardly unnatural that they should seek a day
of reckoning.

Natives of South, Central, and East Africa as
a whole hunt the hippopotamus for his hide, his
fat, and his meat. The hide of a well-grown
bull is often nearly 2 inches thick, and makes all
sorts of useful and attractive articles, from riding-
whips to card-trays. It is at the same time used
all over Africa as an instrument of torture—the
“* Sjambok ”’ of the Boer, the “ Chikote ”’ of the
Portuguese, and the “ Khurbash”’ of North
Africa being one and the same thing, with slight
variations. In other words, it is an appalling
and merciless whip about 5 feet long, tapering
from the thickness of one’s thumb to that of an
ordinary pencil, and, as I have sometimes seen it
far from the ken of the Indigenes Protection
Society, terminating in a piece of thin steel wire.

7

86 THE HIPPOPOTAMUS

In skilful hands, this terrible weapon, applied to
the native’s naked back, cuts like a knife, and I
have seen sickening sights as the result of its
application. This hide is also used for making
shields somewhat similar to those carried by
certain of the Somali tribes, and fashioned from
the skin of the black rhinoceros. From the
coatings of the stomach as much as nearly 2 ewt.
of excellent fat may be extracted, whilst portions
of the meat—for example, the brisket boiled in salt
and water—is far from unpalatable.

The chief methods of capture pursued by
natives are pitfalls and harpooning. The latter
method, which used to be a very favourite
one on the Zambezi, where I have witnessed it,
consists in planting in the animal’s body a large
barbed spear secured by a length of strong rope
to a heavy log of wood which acts in the water as
a float. The hippopotamus, with one or more of
these attached to him, is then vigorously hunted
by several scores of savages armed with spears,
and after a longer or shorter period is finally ex-
hausted and speared to death. I remember some
years ago travelling up the Shiré River in an open
boat and stumbling on to one of these not infre-
quent hunts. The first intimation I had of what
was in progress was a pressing request from the
interested persons to tie my boat up to the river-
bank untilit was over. I then perceived a number
of natives, armed as I have described, rushing along
the river-bank, following the dancing vagaries
of a large log of wood which hurtled about through
the water as though it was endowed with life.

THE HIPPOPOTAMUS 87

To and fro, backward and forward, the wretched
hippopotamus was urged without a moment’s
rest or respite, until at length, quitting
the water, and still dragging the massive log
behind him, he bounded over the sands and
shallows, his pursuers running in nimbly one by
one and inflicting thrust aiter thrust with their
long, lance-like spears. Goaded almost to mad-
ness, and already in evident distress, the poor
beast made for the high banks, hoping, no doubt,
to gain sanctuary ashore ; but between the sand-
banks of the river and the reed-crowned river-
banks above, a belt of soft mud occurred, into
which his short legs sank. No sooner did he
reach this than ascore of natives flung themselves
upon him. He made one furious effort to extri-
cate himself, but, dragged back by the ponderous
float, and weakened by loss of blood, he sank down
at length and was speedily dispatched.

For my own part, the hunting of the hippo-
potamus, unless one attack him from a boat,
lacks the least trace of sport. From the bank of a
river the hunter’s position is one of perfect safety,
and he can fire away his last cartridge in the fullest
certainty that he has nothing to fear. All that
is required is elementary care and a powerful
rifle, and enough of these immense animals may
be shot to glut the appetite for slaughter of even
the most bloodthirsty.

CHAPTER V
BUFFALO: ZEBRA: ELAND: SABLE: ROAN

Passine from consideration of the pachyderms,
we now come to the next largest of the great game
beasts which may still be found in considerable,
I believe in increasing, numbers in various parts
of the district of Zambezia.

The large, powerful, and dangerous animal
which has come to be called the ‘‘ Cape Buffalo ”’
inhabited at one time in immense herds practically
the whole of South-East Africa. But since about
1896, as the result of an appalling visitation of
rinderpest, which swept down the African con-
tinent from north to south, this magnificent type,
although still far from extinct, exists but as an
almost negligible fraction of the vast numbers
which formerly roamed over the country. About
1894, Cheringoma, the country to the north of the
lower course of the Zambezi, as also both sides of
the Shiré River,—in fact, practically the whole of
the plains of Zambezia,—were thickly populated
by large herds of buffaloes, which, up to that time,
had existed practically undisturbed from, and
long before, the earliest days whence European
knowledge of the land can be dated. That long-
dead Portuguese priest, Frade Joao dos Santos,
in a supremely interesting topographical work

THE BUFFALO 89

published in Lisbon in 1609, and doubtless
written many years before, tells of the buffaloes
which at that period overran the country of
which the once busy and important seaport of
Sofala was then the outlet. He states in chapter
xxii. of Ethiopia Oriental that these animals
were exceedingly fierce and numerous, and that
the greater part of the native hunters sooner or
later died upon their horns. He quaintly de-
scribes them as being very jealous of the cows and
calves, so much so that at sight of a human being
they would follow him and charge more furiously
than the most savage bull of the arena.’ Thence-
forward, as without doubt they had done for
centuries, the vast herds went on increasing, their
only enemy the lion; for man, with his rude
weapons and wholesome respect, must have oc-
cupied in this majestic animal’s estimation but
a negligible, disregarded place. Some dim idea
of the mortality which ensued on the appearance
of the rinderpest can therefore be formed. I
have been told by Portuguese long resident in
the forests of Shupanga, in the district of Sena,
and on the plains of Luabo, that for many months
after the appearance of the disease the whole
face of the country stank. I myself have seen,
deep in the forest fastnesses of these districts,
wide expanses of snow-white bones where the
great herds, overtaken by the fatal malady, lay

down and perished by scores.

1Ha muitos bufaros mui bravos em cujos cornos morrem
ordinariamente os cacadores d’esta terra, porque sao mui ciosos
das femeas e filhos, e em vendo qualquer pessoa logo a vio
buscar e accommeter com mais furia que um bravo touro.

90 THE BUFFALO

Then if ever must the great carnivora have
realised to the full their day of plenty, and the
antelopes, with the sad exceptions of the eland
and kudu, enjoyed a period of restful immunity
from pursuit which they have never experienced
either before or since.

Only odd isolated corners here and there
escaped, in some cases unaccountably, the effects
of the scourge; and now, little by little, especially
where due and proper protection is afforded them,
the buffaloes are increasing slowly but steadily.
This increase, still more real than apparent, is
found south of the Zambezi at various points,
but notably in Luabo, and in a minor degree in
certain parts of Cheringoma and the Shupanga
Forest; but, travelling through the Quelimane
district last year from the borders of Nyasaland
to the Indian Ocean, I saw abundant evidence
that in Mlanje, Lugella, and portions of the
Mlokwe districts, the buffaloes were getting once
more fairly numerous. Not that here they
suffered from rinderpest, as it is believed that
the Quelimane district as a whole largely, if not
wholly, escaped the pest, but probably through
the inactivity of former destructive agencies such
as the firearmed native hunter,—now happily
largely employed elsewhere,—to say nothing of
the European sportsman who used to find in
Quelimane a district where regulations were but
seldom obtruded.

In Luabo I have seen of recent years herds
that must have numbered from one hundred to
over three hundred head, and these, as they sweep

THE BUFFALO 91

in course of time back westward to Shupanga and
Inyaminga, will no doubt enable these districts
to present to the hunter’s eye something dimly
recalling the appearance which they must have
presented in the far-off days of the early nineties.

At a distance of a few hundred yards, seen in
the open plain, a herd of buffaloes looks very like
an assemblage of enormous dusky cattle—an illu-
sion greatly assisted by the fact that they have
all the habits of their domestic brethren. I do
not know what a full-grown male may weigh, but
it seems to me that half a ton may forma moderate
estimate. Of dark, slaty grey, the skin of buffa-
loes, except in the cases of the younger animals,
usually possesses scarcely any hairy coat at all.
The older he grows the less hair he exhibits, until,
in the case of a really aged animal, practically no
hirsute covering is discernible. The head is very
large, and armed with magnificent, majestic,
wide-based horns which curve outward and down-
ward from the centre of the forehead, and then
form a powerful upward hook. Those carried by
females are much smaller than male horns; they
do not meet in the centre of the forehead, nor have
they the massive, rugged wide base which lends
him such an air of power and dignity. A bluff
squareness of jowl, which one finds but rarely
reproduced in illustrations of this interesting form,
also indicates a stubborn resolution difficult to
associate with any other family, if, perhaps, we
except the larger carnivora.

The cows calve in the autumn from March to
May, producing only one calf at a birth. These

92 THE BUFFALO

small animals are at times not difficult to capture
on the stampeding of a herd, and several attempts
have been made within my knowledge to rear
them; but I never heard of one proving successful.
The calves die, sometimes after having become
strikingly and quite touchingly tame, of some
curious malady, but not infrequently from pneu-
monia.

Buffaloes drink twice in the twenty-four hours,
and are seldom found far from water ; but whilst
slaking their thirst at night in a clear, cool river
or running stream, their morning draught may
be from the marsh or bog, or from any source
which involves no trouble to reach. They are
night feeders, and, if undisturbed, lie up during the
day in moderately thick, bushy country; or if it
be very hot, they will spend some time rolling in
wet mud, or standing, or at times lying, in marsh
water shaded by thickets of high spear grass—
surroundings in which, needless to say, it is most
difficult to approach them.

Buffaloes are exceedingly wary, and seem at
times possessed of a degree of intelligence second
only to that of the elephant, whose neighbour in a
game country they will usually be found. It isa
common experience, for example, having spoored
a herd of these animals for hours from dawn
onward, to find that before selecting the spot
for their daily rest they have described a half-
circle in such a way as to lie up down wind from
their tracks, with the natural result that the
hunter, following on their spoor, has no chance
whatsoever of coming up, being given hopelessly

OVAL Gal Gauhay

Plain’ oF a
rs

ae Soe
PAa wal au pte ont ey #
4 ee We Ss, NA Minded

THE BUFFALO 93

away by the wind long before the herd is neared.
They practically alw ays stampede down wind,
and therefore, when once they have been lost sight
of, the only method to follow is to make a wide
circle and follow back up wind in the hope of
finding them. Much depends, however, on the
conformation of the district, and upon how far
one is able to see across it.

I consider it probable that no animal in all
the long list of African great game is endowed
with more terrible ferocity than the buffalo, when
once his resentment has been aroused. It is a
well-known fact that when wounded these animals
will frequently retreat into high grass or other
similar cover, and, turning aside off their tracks,
will await the appearance of the hunter, whom they
will then take at a disadvantage as he approaches,
his eyes fixed upon the ground. Having tossed or
knocked down their adversary, they will turn upon
the prostrate form, and, with diabolical transports
of uncontrollable rage, stamp and gore and tear
it until the poor unrecognisable remains are almost
rent limb from limb.

A wounded buffalo, it may be taken as certain,
will charge in more than seventy per cent. of
cases. In thick cover—forest or high grass—it
will practically always charge if wounded at close
quarters, and on level plain, unencumbered by
grass or forest, they will charge at various dis-
tances, sometimes with provocation and some-
times without. Nearness may always be re-
garded as an incentive for them to turn upon their
pursuer, who must regulate his conduct by the

94 THE BUFFALO

exercise of cool judgment and resolution, or he
will assuredly be killed. I have found in my own
experience that, in open country, the charging
buffalo must be quietly awaited, and as he ap-
proaches, his nose thrust forward and his chest
exposed, a bullet from a heavy cordite rifle will
frequently stop him. A raking shot through the
centre of the chest has twice saved me from po-
sitions of some uncertainty, and I can strongly
recommend it to sportsmen finding themselves in
similar perilous case.

On one occasion I was hunting on the great
plains south of the Inyamissengo or Kongoni
mouth of the Zambezi, and in the district of East
Luabo, when I encountered a large herd of these
animals. These plains are the sources of several
rivers and streams, among others of the Mungari,
Mupa, and Gadzi. They are, as a whole, bare of
all but the shortest and most stunted of grasses,
and the eye can follow the circle of the horizon
nearly all the way round, save for curious island-
like patches of trees, isolated forest-patches which
form the cool, daily resting-places of the many
wild animals which here abound. I had followed
upon the tracks of the herd for several hours,
and at length came within sight of them. They
had halted upon an expanse of high, dusty
ground well out in the open, and, whilst some
stood about in groups, their tufted tails flicking
ceaselessly at the clouds of flies which are their
constant companions, others lay quietly resting,
doubtless lazily chewing the cud after their man-
ner, and, as I reconnoitred them through a pair of

THE BUFFALO 95

powerful glasses, looking for all the world like a
large herd of overgrown, dusky cattle. The wind
blew lightly but consistently in our direction, and
at a distance of 700 or 800 yards the buffaloes
had taken absolutely no notice of us. Luckily,
considering its uncompromising features, the
plain was intersected by a number of dry, shallow
channels, evidently the means of escape for the
heavy, torrential downfalls of the summer rains,
and along one of these, closely followed by my
two hunters, I proceeded to crawl slowly. It was
a long, weary task, rendered the more difficult
and disagreeable by the dust which flew up and
persistently filled our eyes and mouths and
nostrils. From time to time, as the distance
grew shorter, the sound of the clicking of horns
striking together, or the domineering bellow of
some salacious bull, was borne towards us, until
at length, weary, grimy, and out of breath, we
peeped over the upper edge of our cover, to see,
with a sigh of excited relief, that not much more
than 140 yards separated us from the unconscious
animals. By subsequent cautious manceuvring,
I succeeded in reducing this to about 120 yards,
and then, fairly dead beat, and with our hearts
thumping against our ribs as though to burst
through, we all lay flat down for a few seconds
to recover our wind and steadiness. It was an
eerie position, and we were not unmindful that
when the herd should finally stampede, as stam-
pede sooner or later they must, it was an even
chance that, not having made us out, they might
do so right over the top of us. After a minute

96 THE BUFFALO

or two spent thus, I raised my head and made
out rather a fine bull with massive horns standing
broadside on at the left-hand edge of the herd.
Reaching for my °500 express, therefore, I took a
steady aim for the point of his shoulder, and gently
pressed the trigger. At the shot he stumbled
forward with a bellow, and was immediately lost
to sight as the great mass of astonished animals
rose to their feet; but at that moment an ex-
clamation from the hunters drew my attention to
three cows, which had, I fancy, been lying con-
cealed in some slight depression, and were quite
close—certainly not more than 80 yards on our
right front. Two of these halted after they had
trotted for some distance towards us in an un-
certain manner; but the third, uttering a succes-
sion of hoarse, menacing grunts, charged straight
down upon us, her nose vengefully extended. I
had just time, with only one cartridge in my un-
discharged barrel, to swing the rifle onto her. At
about 80 yards I fired for the centre of the massive
chest, where, had it even reached her, my bullet
might easily not have stopped her in time. For-
tunately for me, however, at that moment she
either stumbled in the loose dust of the plain,
or for some other reason momentarily lowered
her extended head. My bullet struck her full in
the face, and she must have died instantly; but
so great was the momentum of her charge that
she was carried almost up to us before she finally
lay still. At the second shot, the herd, which up
to that moment had been stricken motionless with
amazement, began to move heavily off, leaving

THE BUFFALO—THE ZEBRA 97

as it did so the bull at which I had first fired. He
was quite dead when I examined him, my bullet
having fortunately found the heart.

The charge which I sustained from the mis-
guided cow has always been a profound mystery
to me. She was a young animal, in good con-
dition, unaccompanied by any calf, and, so far as
I could ascertain, quite unwounded by any pre-
vious hunter. This incident, therefore, affords
additional evidence of the uncertainty of conduct
which these beasts at a given moment will adopt,
and is, I think, a complete answer to the con-
tentions of some writers who have stated that
buffaloes never charge in open country unless
wounded or at close quarters.

Of the three distinct species of Zebras which,
so far as our present knowledge extends, are
found in the various portions of the African
continent, the only member of this beautiful
family of the horses found in East and South
Central Africa is that so widely known as
Burchell’s Zebra. Of course, in stating that there
are only three varieties of this animal, I am in-
fluenced by a desire, so far as possible, to avoid
confusion and technicality. We know quite well
that, of Burchell’s variety alone, scientists, whose
prevailing peculiarity it seems to be to endeavour,
in so far as they can, to render confusion many
times worse confounded, have identified no less
than four subdivisions, and these have been
accepted and established; but as this book is
intended for the information of the unscientific
reader, who cares but little for ‘* shadow-stripes ”’

98 THE ZEBRA

and other peculiarities, we will thankfully accept
the dictum of that well-known and competent
observer, Major Stevenson-Hamilton, who says
of these subdivisions that “there is really no
deeply marked lines separating any of them.”
The other two distinct members of the family,
Grévy’s Zebra, found in Somaliland and Abyssinia,
and the small Mountain Zebra, peculiar to South
Africa, are really types which, for the moment
at any rate, do not concern us.

In all the plains of Zambezia zebras are
found, sometimes alone and at others consorting
with water-buck, wildebeeste, and other antelopes,
their herds numbering from six or eight at times
to forty or fifty. They are extremely sociable,
and very easily tamed; and although efforts
hitherto made to utilise them in the same way as
ponies have failed, owing chiefly to their want of
staying power and forehand, it is still hoped, by
means of judicious crossing, in time to evolve an
animal which will not be characterised by their
unfortunate weaknesses. For driving, the zebra
has already in his pure state shown himself to be
not unadaptable. A team of these animals was
formerly driven in England by a well-meaning if
eccentric individual, whilst both in South and
British and German East Africa they have been
captured and tamed in considerable numbers, and
occasionally utilised for the same purpose. I was
informed by the late Count Gétzen, at one time
Governor of German East Africa, that regular
drives were organised there for the capture of these
animals, and but little difficulty is experienced

“VEZ

96 -g aonfoy

THE ZEBRA 99

in taming and breaking them. But, as Major
Stevenson-Hamilton very truly observes, it will
be impossible in less than several generations of
careful experimenting to evolve a type of hybrid
which will prove of practical utility. What
should operate as a powerful incentive to per-
severance, however, are the two important con-
siderations that the zebra is impervious to the
bite of the tsetse fly and also to horse-sickness,
to both of which the horse and his relatives
usually succumb; and although a hybrid form
might possibly not retain the zebra’s immunity
from these two terrible scourges, the probability
of his freedom from power to contract them would,
it is thought, undoubtedly be largely enhanced
by conducting the experiments in portions of the
country where the influence of these diseases
continues to be felt. At Naivasha, in the East
Africa Protectorate, a zebra farm of some import-
ance has been established for many years. I have
not heard, however, that experiments have been
made with a view to obtaining such results as I
have referred to above, whilst the liability of the
animals to attack and decimation by a curious
species of intestinal worm has been found a source
of great embarrassment to the Department of
the Government concerned.

In Zambezia, horses are few; but in spite of
that fact no attempt has as yet been made either
to capture or to utilise the zebra in any way.
Many, I regret to say, are shot both by natives for
the meat, of which they are extremely fond, and
by Europeans for the skins, which they do not

100 THE ZEBRA

need. These are carefully rolled up at the time
for conveyance to their homes, where, long after-
wards, they are usually found in some out-
building riddled by insects and worms, and en-
tirely useless for any purpose.

Lions also destroy large numbers of zebras, to
which they are extremely partial. I have on
many occasions passed the remains of one of
these animals, which, in spite of the sign of other
carnivora, were obviously a lion’s kill; in fact, it
may be taken as a good general rule, as it may also
in the case of buffaloes, that the presence of large
numbers of zebras almost certainly indicates that
of lions also.

With all their beauty of form and colour,
however, and in spite of their great tractability,
it cannot be said that the presence of these wild
equines in the vicinity of extensive cultivation is
in any sense an unmixed blessing. They have
playful, if embarrassing, habits of stampeding
mules and donkeys; whilst the presence of fences
appears literally to invite them. At times, even
when tamed and broken, they seem to be afflicted
with uncontrollable transports of bad temper,
when they are apt viciously to attack each other
with hoof and teeth, and not seldom their
attendants. Still I have little doubt that when
by observation and experiment the question of
discovering a satisfactory hybrid shall have been
solved, we shall have gone far also in the direction
of solving the question of difficult transport in
many parts of the country.

It was largely in connection with the peculiar

THE ZEBRA 101

coloration and markings of zebras that a con-
siderable and not uninteresting controversy took
place a short time ago, to which, it may be re-
membered, Mr. Roosevelt very ably replied. On
the one side it was contended that the coloration
of all animals—and birds too, for the matter of
that—was specially designed by a process of
natural selection with a view to rendering them
invisible, in the surroundings most affected by
them, to their particular natural enemies, and
one of the beasts to which somewhat emphatic
reference was made in proof of these contentions
was the zebra.

Now Iam perfectly ready to admit that against
a background of thin forest or high grass, at a
distance of several hundreds of yards, especially
if the sun be shining upon them from the front,
a herd of zebras, so long as it remains motionless,
is unquestionably very hard to see. So extra-
ordinarily do their striping and general colour
scheme blend with such surroundings as I have
described that the eye—of man, be it under-
stood—is extremely liable to overlook them, and
the same may indisputably be said of other
varieties. But where this theory, which is such a
touching testimonial to the care and forethought
of benevolent Nature, would seem to me to be
weak and faulty lies in the fact that when in the
course of the ages the coloration of the fauna
became definitely fixed, the game families as a
whole knew but one enemy—namely, the great
carnivora. These, hunting as they do by night

and by scent, could not, as it seems to me, have
8

102 THE ZEBRA—THE ELAND

been regarded as the dreaded source of danger.
One therefore asks oneself in vain what the reason
for a protective colour scheme for use by day only
could possibly have been. Except by man, the
game of Africa is, practically speaking, left almost
undisturbed during the daylight hours; and it
must be quite clear that it is only during very
recent times that protection from him need have
entered into consideration. I remember having
an interesting conversation a few months ago
with Mr. Selous upon this point, and found that,
in the main, the opinion of this distinguished ob-
server very largely coincided with my own.

The Eland, the largest, and to my mind
the most valuable, of all the African antelopes,
is common in many parts of Zambezia. In
flat, wooded country—that charming park-like
half-torest, half-plain of which so much of
this interesting region consists—they are found
in large herds. You may perhaps imagine
surroundings in which thinly tree-covered areas
alternate for many miles with open grass, these
openings surrounded by tropical-looking date and
hyphecene palms, and overhung at the edges by
the fronds of brilliant, glossy ficus, by acacias,
and other forest growths; where in their season
the papilionaceous trees are covered with a per-
fect blaze of bright colour, and the silvery sheen
of acres upon acres of feathery bamboos fill in the
gaps in a picture of rare beauty. Here in the
early mornings herds of any number up to sixty
or seventy elands may at times be found feeding.
They eat both by day and by night, but chiefly

“INVITE

THE ELAND 103

during the latter, and are voracious feeders, de-
vouring grass together with the leaves of certain
shrubs and other plants. I have seen their fresh
spoor in the gardens of native villages, in which
they cause great havoc, and more than once have
sighted them surprisingly close to human habi-
tation. They do not, if unmolested, journey very
far during the day, the hotter hours of which they
spend in some sheltered locality, moving off at
nightfall or in the late afternoon.

Elands found in Zambezia differ in several
particulars from those members of this hand-
some family found in other parts of the African
continent. They stand well over 5 feet at the
withers, although they vary considerably at
different seasons of the year, and the prevail-
ing colour of the Zambezian variety is yellowish
fawn going to the palest shade of creamy white
under the belly. A dorsal ridge of very dark
—almost black—bristles extends from the back
of the neck over the withers, a curious black
band presents itself inside the knee, whilst the
body is divided by about half a dozen thin
vertical white stripes, in some animals curiously
faint, in others very decided. They also possess
a prominent dewlap. The bulls are distinguished
in some parts of the country by a curious frontal
brush of very coarse bristly hairs, a peculiarity
by no means invariable, however. This singular
growth becomes extraordinarily developed in
certain portions of Southern Rhodesia, as also,
I understand, in British and German East
Africa. Some heads I have seen exhibited a

104 THE ELAND

curious white chevron on the face, whilst in
others this peculiarity was entirely absent. The
horns carried by the elands I am describing have
a usual maximum measurement of 28 to 82 inches,
those of the cows (for both sexes carry horns)
being at times as long or longer, but much
slenderer and less massive. The calves are born
singly in March and April, the period of gestation
being between eight and nine months.

Although they drink once a day, or perhaps
oftener where water is readily procurable, they
are, nevertheless, curiously independent of it,
and may be found occasionally at a considerable
distance from it. It thus happens that in case
of need they can place for a while between
themselves and their pursuers long distances
of practically desert country. If disturbed they
never stampede wildly, as in the cases of most
other animals; they simply trot away quietly,
and if seriously alarmed keep up the same pace
for a long distance without stopping. During
the early spring and throughout the rainy season
elands split up into small groups and become
very sleek and fat, but in the winter the herds
reassemble, and at this time of year the older
bulls assume quite a dark bluish grey colour,
and with advancing years become almost hair-
less.

There are still in the remoter districts—apart
from Zambezia—large numbers of elands. They
are on the whole wary beasts, and at times
extremely difficult to approach, partly by reason
of their accompanying bird—I believe the same

THE ELAND 105

as that which so frequently gives the alarm to
the rhinoceros—and partly, I am_ persuaded,
through their habit of posting, like the harte-
beestes, a sentry to apprise them of approaching
danger.

I have always expressed the opinion that the
eland should never be hunted. On the contrary,
this splendid form should be sedulously pro-
tected, domesticated, and utilised. No antelope
with which I am acquainted yields such delicate
meat or such large quantities of fat and milk,
and perhaps no other is so easy to tame, or
would give back so rich a return for kindness
and good usage. A friend of mine in the Trans-
vaal has given me some most interesting facts
relative to several tame elands to which he is
greatly attached and which form an interesting
feature of his premises. He describes them as
being most extraordinarily intelligent, and cites
instances of their learning to unlatch with their
horns the gate of the vegetable gardens, and
make descents, both unauthorised and devastat-
ing, upon the cabbages and lettuces. He men-
tioned an amusing instance of the masterly
way in which, by the assumption of a threatening
attitude, they terrify the women and children
passing through the compound into dropping
their maize and millet baskets, and of the ap-
pearance of conscious rectitude with which they
appropriate and devour the spoils. All these
traits of character, therefore, seem to indicate
the advantages which would result from the
preservation and domestication of these glorious,

106 THE ELAND—THE SABLE ANTELOPE

harmless, and amiable beasts, and from their
deliverance all over Africa from the dispropor-
tionate perils and dangers of their present daily
existence.

There are few of us doubtless who have shot
through East and South Central Africa during
the last twenty years who cannot look back
upon a certain number of elands which from time
to time have fallen as prizes to our rifles. So
far as I am concerned, I can recollect, during
the period mentioned, having been responsible
for the deaths of five or six of these animals,
and their horns are still in my possession or in
that of friends upon whom I have bestowed
them; but I must confess that whilst the con-
templation of other trophies taken from species
possibly as harmless awakens in me no sense of
self-reproach, the noble eland heads, which lend
dignity to their surroundings, not seldom awaken,
as I pass them by, an uneasy feeling almost of
regret that I should have lessened, even by so
infinitesimal a number, so splendid and useful a
detail of Africa’s majestic fauna.

In the open forest, and at times on the
lower stony foothills of the more elevated
regions, the Sable Antelope may be found in
small groups of five or six, and in herds of
thirty or more. Occasionally in the summer
season single animals are met with, but,
taken as a general rule, sable are extremely
gregarious. In Luabo, along the southern fringe
of the Shupanga Forest, eastward of the Mlanje
Mountains, and in Lugella, considerable numbers

“AadOlALNV ATAVS

‘got -¢ avf of

THE SABLE ANTELOPE 107

are still to be met with; and although nowadays
nowhere numerous in the once fine hunting
regions of the Beira districts, they existed formerly
in large numbers in Cheringoma and Goron-
goza.

In point of beauty I do not consider it possible
to compare the sable antelope with his usually
acknowledged and, in the opinion of most ob-
servers, successful rival the kudu. They belong
to two wholly different types, whose grace and
charm arise from the possession of totally
dissimilar features. It would be as logical to
compare the appearance of a lady robed in a
masterly jet-black creation by Paquin with
another present on the same occasion and
garbed in a soft mouse-grey confection by Worth.
Both are perfectly turned out, both present a
charming and satisfying towt ensemble, and yet
each differs in all respects essentially from the
other.

The sable is an animal of vivid contrasts.
Take, for example, an elderly bull, who, having
passed the grand climacteric, is nevertheless
still in possession of that proud and majestic
appearance which has stamped the members
of his race with such an air of resolution and
power. His massive, deeply annulated horns
sweep backward almost in the form of a semi-
circle for, it may be, anything between 40 and
50 inches, and are thick and massive at the base.
His coat, almost coal-black upon the back and
withers, which are topped by a stiff fringe or
mane, is almost pure white under the belly

108 THE SABLE ANTELOPE

and on the insides of his sturdy legs. His head
continues the general colour scheme of the body,
is very shapely, black, or almost black, down
the frontal bone to the nose, with a whitish
splash extending from over each eye to the
mouth corners and meeting under the chin and
jaws. He stands very high at the withers,
sloping sharply downward towards the croup.
The neck is very deep and powerful, and carries
a pronounced if short mane. Both sexes possess
horns, which in the females are shorter and
more slender than those borne by the bulls.
The coloration of the cows is, moreover, nothing
like so decided as that of the males, the prevailing
hue being a deep, rich brown. They grow
darker with age, however, and, but for the thin-
ness of the horns, might occasionally be mistaken
for animals of the other sex.

Sable antelope are extremely fierce, and when
wounded or bayed require the utmost caution to
avoid a serious mishap. I came very near to
losing my life at the hands, or rather the horns,
of the first of these animals to fall to my rifle.
I was hunting in Central Africa one morning,
when, running after a large wart-hog which I
had wounded, turning round an immense red ant-
heap, covered with undergrowth and crowned
with the delicate green fronds of a cluster of
small palms, I came right upon a very fine sable
bull at a distance of not more than some 15 yards.
I do not know which of us was the more sur-
prised. In any case, he lost no time in showing
me his heels; but, going away in a straight line,

THE SABLE ANTELOPE 109

he enabled me to plant a bullet about the root
of his tail, which brought him down badly
disabled. It must be remembered that I was
a very new hand at big-game shooting, which
must be my excuse for so unpardonable an
imprudence; but approaching the fallen beast
quite closely and incautiously, he struggled
suddenly up on his forelegs, and snorting
viciously, swept round his powerful horns with
a lightning sweep which came so near my ribs
that the points penetrated the loose folds of
my khaki shooting-jacket, and, in addition to
tearing half of it away, threw me some distance
from him—TI have no doubt due more than any-
thing else to my startled and hasty recoil. In
any case, it was a lesson I never forgot.

The bulls are desperate fighters, and I have
seen several which bore upon their glossy coats
ineradicable traces of their pugilistic dispositions.
No doubt their principal encounters take place
during the period of the rutting season. It
used to be said that the sable was the only
antelope that the lion hesitated to attack; but
this is certainly not the case in Zambezia, where
I have seen several lions’ kills consisting of the
carcasses of these animals. Still, even the so-
called king of beasts must at times find the
powerful, well-armed sable an uncommonly
awkward morsel, and there are cases on record
wherein the great feline has come off, to say
the least of it, second best. An old friend of
mine in Nyasaland possessed a lion skin taken
from a beast which he found lying dead near

110 THE SABLE ANTELOPE

surroundings betokening a terrible struggle. The
ground for many yards round was covered with
blood and trampled with sable spoor, and the
lion, pierced completely through the lungs by a
terrible thrust from the sable’s horns, exhibited
in his hide the great holes which his active
adversary’s massive weapons had made as they
tore their way to his vitals. The sable could
not have sustained much damage, as my friend
and his hunters took up the spoor, which they
followed for some miles until it was finally
lost; but although at first drops of blood
were seen upon the track, there appeared to be
no sign of weakness in the victorious sable’s
gait.

These antelopes are almost it not entirely
grass-eaters, and at early morning, and again
at sunset, they leave the forest to browse in the
wide glades and woodland grass clearings, where
they remain until after nightfall. One of the
most fascinating spectacles tropical Africa has
to offer is that of a large herd of sable antelope
as they gather themselves together on the first
alarm of approaching danger. I remember years
ago in Nyasaland, where I am glad to say these
animals are reported to be still numerous, I
made out one day a large herd scattered and
feeding in thin masuku forest shortly after
sunrise. After a very careful and difficult stalk;
I reached, by great good fortune, a point about
100 yards from the nearest members, and
there, sheltered by the crumbling moss-grown
trunk of some fallen forest monster, I stopped

THE SABLE ANTELOPE 111

awhile to observe them. At length, espying a
good bull, the only one so far as I could see
with them, I fired and shot him, feeling some-
what regretful as I did so at dissipating so pretty
a picture. At the sound of my rifle the scattered
assemblage, after one moment of stupefied alarm,
drew together some forty strong, and, entirely
ignorant of the direction in which danger lay;
they swept in a bounding gallop directly towards
me. Unwilling as I was to fire again, I stood
up on the tree-trunk and shouted, waving my
hat in full view when they were not more than
40 yards from me, and watched them wheel
off to my right and disappear, a bewilderingly
beautiful and graceful spectacle of the African
woodlands.

Sable antelope are not difficult to approach.
If feeding, and the wind be favourable, they are
stalked more easily than many other game beasts
of my acquaintance. The only difficulty which
presents itself is the embarrassing habit a herd
of these animals has of spreading itself out over
a large area. They divide themselves into twos
and threes, and great care must be exercised to
make sure that in drawing near to one group
the suspicions of others, perhaps invisible to the
crawling sportsman, should not be aroused.
When it is remembered that there is often only
one good bull with each herd, and that he
usually feeds and remains somewhat apart from
it, the difficulty of securing good heads will be
readily appreciated. But where these animals
are numerous, single males are at times met with,

112 SABLE ANTELOPE—ROAN ANTELOPE

and these are, in such circumstances, much more
easily brought to bag than when guarded more
or less by the presence of a number of shy cows
and calves.

The Roan Antelope, a near relative of
the sable, but lacking both his splendid horns
and vivid colour contrasts, is nevertheless a
variety of Zambezian game of more than or-
dinary interest. Nowhere very numerous, his
haunts may be said almost to coincide with those
of the sable—to “ march” with them, as they
would say in North Britain; but the two are
rarely if ever found in the same district. Roan
antelope occur in small companies of seven or
eight at a time. I have seen and shot several in
the country to the west of Quelimane which is
drained by the Lualua River, as also on the lower
slopes of Méupa Mountain, where, as in the low
country surrounding the source of the Lugella
stream, they are far from uncommon. I have
been told that they are to be found in the Pinda
and Morumbala districts, but have never seen
them, although familiar enough with this part of
the country. In a book which he published some
few years ago, Mr. F. Vaughan Kirby speaks of
having met with this animal in the Gorongoza
district, south of the Zambezi, and in the char-
tered Mozambique Company’s territory. This I
can only regard as a case of mistaken identity,
for I feel convinced that this antelope is nowhere
to be found in the country lying to the west of
the port of Beira. If further reasons were want-
ing, Gorongoza is far too mountainous a district

THE ROAN ANTELOPE 113

for a beast such as this, which is a notorious lover
of flat, or at most undulating, country.

The roan antelope is, so to speak, the plain
child of the family of which his handsome kinsman
the sable is the attractive member. I regret that I
am unable to publish a photograph of this animal,
the more so as illustrations of him are few and
far between. In Johnston’s book, British Central
Africa, there is a drawing of the roan which looks
as though it might have been intended for a
fanciful caricature; but apart from this par-
ticular ‘‘ picture,’ the only good illustration I
have seen is that which appears in Stigand and
Lyell’s admirable work, Central African Game and
its Spoor. This latter certainly affords an ex-
cellent idea of the roan antelope, and one from
which it is possible to draw interesting com-
parisons.

The roan is larger and heavier than the sable,
and stands about 14 or 144 hands at the shoulder.
The general structure closely resembles that of
the smaller beast, but is somewhat clumsier, and
instead of the vivid black and white or brown and
white of his good-looking relative, there is a dis-
tinct tendency to greyness and consequent dingi-
ness in his general appearance. His most striking
feature is the disproportionately large ears; so
much are they so as almost to mask the small,
disappointing, backward-curved horns, which look
like a cheap, futile imitation of those of some
immature sable. There is always, to my mind,
about the roan an air of shifty apology, a plainly
evinced desire for as complete self-effacement as

114 THE ROAN ANTELOPE

possible. He seems surrounded by an impalpable
something which, if it were reducible into words,
would plainly say: “I am fully and painfully
conscious of my shortcomings. Let it go at
that. Don’t rub it in.”

As in the cases of the eland and sable, both
sexes carry horns; but whilst consistently mean
and inconspicuous, those of the older males are
usually very broken and damaged, partly by their
furious family combats, and partly as the result
of their habit of breaking up the ant-hills of the
blind termite to get at the salty earth within.
The herd bulls are thus preferable as specimens to
the solitary old males which may sometimes be
seen.

The surroundings in which roan are to be
found are, as I have said, fairly flat. Their habits
of feeding and drinking are almost precisely the
same as those of the sable—that is to say, they
may be found in the wide grass-clearings soon after
dawn and at evening, and here they continue to
feed far into the night. On being disturbed, they
utter a short, impatient snort, and canter leisurely
off, to stop, however, within a short distance and
listen intently. Once alarmed, they become very
suspicious, and it is usually extremely difficult to
draw up to them a second time. A case of this
kind occurred to me on the Lualua River some
years ago. It was a fine game country, singularly
well watered, and, as is so much of the Quelimane
district, a landscape of peculiar beauty and
interest. In the early morning my hunter and I
cautiously approached an open forest clearing

THE ROAN ANTELOPE 115

such as I have described elsewhere, to find no less
than eleven roan, of which two were bulls, quietly
grazing on the sweet green young grass shoots of
late October. Through some imprudence, how-
ever, they perceived us, and broke away before I
could get near enough to fire, so we took up their
spoor and followed them. At first they cantered
down a series of sandy glades, bounded on both
sides by clumps of yellow, seared bamboos and
tiresome undergrowth. Through this we fol-
lowed, dodging behind the cover the bamboo
clumps afforded. At last they slowed down to a
walk, and we saw one place, under the shadow of
a gigantic bombax, already bursting out into its
summer clothing of sweet-smelling, deep red
blossoms, where they had evidently stood for
some time. Proceeding with great caution, we
soon afterwards dimly made them out in a grey
screen of stunted acacias, and here I left my two
companions fully extended on the ground, and
essayed the crawl upon my stomach which was
literally the only chance the surroundings afforded.
On I went, an inch at a time, slowly, painfully,
the dust mingling in a friendly manner with the
blinding perspiration which streamed down my
face. But it wasno good. Before I had covered
half the distance a low whistle from behind ap-
prised me that they were again in full flight. The
chase now took us into lovely scenery bordering
the Lualua itself, at this point a wide, clear,
brilliant stream, roaring past great granite
boulders veined with pink dolomite and quartz,
and topped by the delicious tender green fronds of

116 THE ROAN ANTELOPE

raphias and wild date-palms. Here again the
roan paused to consider their position, and I
slipped along the brink of the stream and under
cover of its high, reed-crowned banks, one eye
on the wind and the other on the point from
which it would, I thought, be possible to get a
shot. On I went carefully from boulder to
boulder, and at length reached a spot where I
fancied I could reconnoitre unseen. I pushed my
way to the top of the bank, to find—they had
gone again. I whistled for my hunters, feeling
now thoroughly aroused. Had I to follow all day
and all the next, I was fully determined one of
those bulls should be mine. I will not weary the
reader with a detailed narrative of what I ex-
perienced thereafter; suffice it to say that six
times we came up to that herd of roan, and six
times they broke before I could get within range.
Occasionally we sighted other game, but never
wavered. I believe my hunters felt quite as
savage as I did; for although they would point
out such other animals as we passed, it was always
with an air of detachment which clearly indicated
that we were in nowise concerned with aught but
the elusive roan.

At length my hour came. A small forest
clearing surrounded by bamboo thickets was un-
advisedly chosen by the harassed herd for a few
moments’ repose, and they halted on the edge of
it, oblivious of the fact that a bamboo-covered
ant-heap affords the most perfect imaginable
cover. It was a tame conclusion to a day of
unheard-of difficulties and disappointments.

THE ROAN ANTELOPE 117

Moving quietly but rapidly to my sheltering ant-
heap, I put the thickly growing greenery gently
aside, and found myself scarcely 100 yards from
the rearmost bull, which I shot without further
trouble, one single bullet from my heavy °577
Express being all that was required to secure him.

I do not think that the conclusion of any day’s
sport has ever afforded me more satisfaction than
I experienced on that occasion, and, as a further
reward for our perseverance, we discovered on our
way back to camp indications of rhinoceros
which enabled us to bag a very fine bull on the
following day.

In South Africa, I fear, but few roan antelope
survive. In the Transvaal and on the northern
borders of Natal they are said formerly to have
existed in large numbers, but it would surprise
me to learn that many members of this interesting
if not particularly beautiful type survive outside
the limits of the sanctuary the game reserves
afford them.

CHAPTER VI

KUDU : WATER-BUCK : WILDEBEESTE : HARTE-
BEESTE : TSESSEBE

As shy as he is beautiful, and harmless as he
is shy, this grandest and stateliest of all the
antelopes is a lover of rocky, forested foothills
and ravines, thick brushwood, and _ denser
brakes than any others of his commanding
size. Nowhere very numerous, the Kudus of
Zambezia, especially that portion lying to the
south of the great river, are still struggling to
increase their never very great numbers, which
were sadly depleted by the rinderpest of 1896.
I fancy, on the whole, they appear to be more
plentiful in the middle and north of the Queli-
mane district than in any other part of Portuguese
Kast Africa, if we except that of Portuguese
Nyasaland, where, I am informed, they occur in
great numbers.

I do not think that any person who had not
seen with his own eyes the delicate colouring,
symmetry of form, and grace of proportion of a
well-grown kudu bull woula believe from mere
description that so splendid a creature was
known to zoology. Standing 14 hands at the
shoulder, his prevailing colour is a soft mousy
grey, with several clearly marked vertical white

118

THE KUDU 119

stripes, as seen in the accompanying illustration.
A white chevron on the frontal bone immediately
below the eyes, and a considerable mane oi
greyish hair whitening near the tips runs along
the dorsal ridge. The beautiful spiral horns
which crown the shapely head have over and
over again been the inexhaustible theme of
many an enraptured sportsman, who has rightly
regarded them, of all others, as among his most
prized and cherished trophies. Added to all
this, the build of the animal coincides much
more closely with our preconceived ideas of what
an antelope should be. Unlike most others,
he does not display the same bizarre tendency
to slope from the withers to the croup as do the
sable, hartebeeste, and so many others. He
stands upon his firmly planted feet and looks
just what he is, beauty and dignity harmoniously
blended.

The females, smaller and paler in body, carry
no horns, and, so far as Zambezia is concerned
at any rate, run in herds which rarely exceed a
dozen in number. These herds, with which the
males consort during the greater part of the
year, feed upon the leaves and shoots of various
trees and small shrubs, also upon the forest
fruits in their season. They are only to a very
limited extent grass-eaters, but are apt, in portions
of the country where they are undisturbed, to
do considerable damage to native gardens, where
they display an exasperating partiality for maize
and other native cereals, and especially for the
contents of the tobacco patches.

120 THE KUDU

On taking to flight, the kudu raises his nose,
lays his great horns along the back of his neck,
and dashes off at a tremendous pace, darting
from side to side, and swerving under boughs
_and other obstacles in a surprisingly rapid
manner. If he should be in the neighbour-
hood of the herd, the females, one of which
is usually posted as a look-out, give him the
alarm, and they all flee away, their short,
white-fringed tails held high, uttering a deep,
hoarse bark not unlike that of a bushbuck.
Some antelopes, namely the sable and water-
buck, as also the hartebeeste and others, before
finally diving into the depths of the bush
will often halt long enough to enable a hasty
shot at times to be delivered; the reedbuck,
indeed, may often be checked in full flight if
the hunter have the presence of mind to utter
a loud, shrill whistle. Not so the kudu. From
the moment he realises that the time for flight
has come, I do not believe that any form of
cajolery, be it by whistle or other means, would
serve for an instant to check that headlong rush.

I do not think I have ever seen kudus of
either sex in the plains or clear of cover. They
drink daily, and are not capable, like the eland,
of straying far from water. The young calves
are produced, I believe, about February, as on
one occasion during that month, whilst after
elephants in Boror, one of my hunters caught a
tiny, leggy kudu calf which could not have been
more than a few days old. Poor lanky little
thing, I have often hoped it was returned to

“TAN

ozr 17 ws oT

THE KUDU 121

the maternal care, although I still feel doubtful
about it. Years have passed since the incident
occurred, but full well I remember the uncon-
cealable air of wondering disgust which flitted
across the hunters’ faces when I not only uncon-
cealable, as it seemed to them, declined to hand
the bleating captive over to the cook, but
sternly required them, as they should answer
to me did they fail to do so, to replace it in the
haunts of the herd.

I have in my possession one pair of kudu
horns 57 inches in length measured round the
curves, and these are thick and massive at the
base; and although not anywhere approaching
a record, this measurement may nevertheless be
regarded as that of a good pair of horns, eminently
worthy of an honoured place upon the wall.
Of course bulls have been shot with horns more
than a foot longer round the curves than mine,
but these are naturally few and far between—
the result of those lucky encounters for which
so many of us have hoped in vain.

The kudu has rarely been known to use his
magnificent defences except in combats with
foes of his own race. He is perfectly harmless,
and I have on several occasions seen my hunters
leap upon a wounded bull and bear him down,
holding the head by the horns in a convenient
position for the administration of the coup de
grace. I do not think any bribe would have
sufficed to induce them to pursue a like course
in the case of the sable, or of several other
antelopes with which I am acquainted.

122 THE KUDU—THE WATER-BUCK

The smaller variety, known as the lesser kudu,
does not occur in Zambezia, being confined in its
range to Somaliland and portions of British East
Africa, and, I think, Uganda.

In all the grassy plains of South-East Africa
there is no sight so common as an assemblage
of Water-buck, their horns dancing in the mid-
day sun like weird motes in the heat radia-
tion. They are fine, well-set-up animals, and
present more of the bodily form of the stag
than any African antelope known to me. Not
only on the river-banks and wide plains of
Zambezia is the water-buck found, but in thin
forest also he passes much of his time, and not
seldom seems greatly to appreciate the shade
it affords, although at other times the tre-
mendous heat of early afternoon appears to
cause him not the slightest inconvenience. In
East Luabo day after day 1 have seemed never
to be out of sight of herds of water-buck. They
are friendly beasts, and fraternise freely with
zebras, blue wildebeeste, and Lichtenstein’s harte-
beeste, in whose company they often pass many
hours of the day. The Urema flats in Cheringoma,
as also the wide plains through which the upper
waters of the Pungwe flow, used at one time to
be the haunts of vast numbers of these animals,
and may still, in spite of years of murderous
and pitiless slaughter, harbour a few. But where
they exist to a great extent unthinned by
the paid native hunter is to the south of the
Kongoni mouth of the Zambezi, on the vast and
grassy plains of East Luabo.

THE WATER-BUCK 123

As I have just stated, this handsome antelope
possesses a build and carriage not unlike those of
the British stag. The females carry no horns, but
those of the male, which, springing from the
head, extend forward and outward for from
25 to 30 inches, are deeply ringed, majestic, and
form a fine trophy. In colour the water-buck is
darkish grey, and his coat, coarse and very long,
increases beneath the chin to 8 or 4 inches in
length. The corners of the mouth, and a slight
smudge in front of each eye, are white, and he
carries on the rump a curious whitish ring. The
females, smaller than the bull, and of a paler shade
of grey, are, I think, even somewhat hairier still ;
and this appearance would seem to lend colour to
the suspicion that this fine animal has strayed
accidentally away from some northerly latitude,
for which he was by nature intended, and found
his way to Africa by mistake. In any case,
he is a distinct ornament to the country of his
choice, and, as he is perfectly inoffensive, we
may well express a hope that he may long remain
there.

Water-buck have been extremely well named,
as there is probably no antelope, if we except the
Situtunga of the Mweru swamps and the Letchwe
of the middle course of the Loangwa River, pos-
sessed of a nature so passionately fond of water.
But as neither of the two last-named animals is
known to occur in the region we are considering,
we need not, I think, concern ourselves with
them. I have more than once, when in pursuit
of wounded water-buck, seen them take to such

124 THE WATER-BUCK

comparatively wide rivers as the Upper Shiré
at Gwaza’s, and swim strongly and_ boldly
across. On one occasion, coming upon a small
herd a few miles above the old Government Boma
at Mpimbi, I came upon eight or ten of these
animals close to the bank of the Shiré where the
river made a somewhat pronounced bend. All
but one wheeled to my right flank and got away ;
but the rearward bull, which was some yards
behind the others, seeing me run to cut off his
retreat, promptly turned about and from the top
of the river-bank plunged boldly into the water
and swam out into the stream. Near the centre
the river shallowed, and here he paused, looking
backward as though to see if his companions were
following. -I was thus enabled to bring him to
bag. It is probable that, in crocodile-infested
streams like the Urema and the Pungwe, num-
bers of these beasts must annually fall victims to
the loathsome saurian. I have seen them in the
evening, a little before sunset, standing slaking
their thirst belly-deep in these rivers, and more
than one crocodile which I have seen opened has
been found to be full of the meat and pieces of
skin of water-buck, doubtless caught in the act of
drinking. My old elephant-hunter Lengo told
me that on one occasion on the banks of the
Madingue-dingue River, an affluent of the Pungwe,
he came upon a full-grown water-buck bull just
as it had been seized by the muzzle. A tremen-
dous struggle took place, which lasted some
minutes, when, the crocodile being a small, im-
mature one, the bull actually succeeded in draw-

“MON- Wa AN

ter cg af or

fas

THE WATER-BUCK 125

ing it a little way from the water, whereupon
Lengo and his companions dashed to the spot and,
knowing full well the crocodile would never let
go, promptly speared both the reptile and his
prisoner.

As a rule they are inoffensive creatures. It is
said that the bulls fight a good deal among them-
selves; but then, at the mating season, so do the
males of practically all other animals. I have
only once seen a water-buck show the smallest
sign of aggressiveness, and that was a very fine
bull which I had wounded severely on the banks
of the Mungari River in East Luabo. Following
upon his blood spoor through high stipa grass, I
came suddenly upon him at a distance of about
10 yards. He had turned and was facing me,
and, to my intense surprise, he advanced towards
me, nodding his head violently and breathing
heavily—I cannot quite call it snorting—through
his nostrils. Poor old fellow! his race was almost
run, or he would no doubt have been more active.
As it was, Lenco dashed forward and hit him
heavily over the head with a stout piece of
timber he was carrying in for firewood. The
bull fell, so near was he to succumbing, and
was quickly dispatched. I have often thought
that had he been a little less preoccupied by
his wounds he might have proved quite trouble-
some.

They pay a heavy toll, not only to the hunting
native—paid or unpaid—but also to the lion, as I
have shown, to the crocodile, and without question
to hyenas, leopards, and hunting dogs. On one

126 THE WATER-BUCK

occasion in the Barué I saw a wretched female
water-buck harried by about a dozen of the last
named cross our path one early morning. We
were on the banks of the Luenya River, and I
went with a couple of men to take up the spoor.
It led us to the river-bank and thence into the
water, which I conclude the animals swam, as at
this point we gave the search up and resumed our
journey.

The flesh of water-buck, though by no means
so well-flavoured as that of many other animals,
is nevertheless, if properly cooked, far from un-
eatable. I have welcomed it on many occasions
when, after days of tinned provisions or tasteless
fowls, a water-buck steak, well pounded and beaten
to destroy the fibres, has proved an appreciable
addition to the camp table. But the whole fact
of the matter is that the meat of most animals
is quite edible if properly hung, beaten, and
cooked.

In Angoniland the thick hide of water-buck
used at one time to be employed in making the
oval skin shields common alike to the Zulu and
the Angoni, their descendants. At times I have
purchased these shields, which are highly orna-
mental, to decorate my walls ; but, as is the case
with the skins themselves, which I have on
several occasions endeavoured to cure, it is per-
fectly impossible to keep the long coarse grey
hairs from falling out, whilst the natural odour
of the beast, which seems to cling to it, renders its
presence in a hall or living-room a somewhat
doubtful advantage.

THE WATER-BUCK—THE BRINDLED GNU 127

There are, of course, several varieties of this
fine antelope, distributed over the various portions
of East and North Africa, but this, the common
and largest variety, is the only one known to the
region of Zambezia.

The Brindled Gnu or Blue Wildebeeste is an
animal which goes through life under a grave
disadvantage. Nobody will take him seriously.
He is a mere blusterer—one who, unduly conscious
of his wild and shaggy appearance, endeavours
to impose it upon the world at large, and impress
his fellow-creatures with the supposition that in
reality he is a devil of a fellow, and one who
stands no trifling whatsoever. The very way in
which he glares at you, as your scent assails his
nostrils, and snorts, and stamps, and fumes, as
though his one wish in life were that he might
have just one go at you! But he never does—
if unmolested, that is to say. He just dashes
madly away, whisking his tail and kicking up his
heels as though, had they been fingers, he would
have snapped them in your face. I do not say
that if wounded and cornered the blue wildebeeste
would not give a very good account of himself,
for I have seen him do it. But it is to his appear-
ance and general demeanour before that mis-
fortune overtakes him that the foregoing lines
refer.

The wildebeeste would seem to have entered
the ranks of the antelopes by mistake. He and
his plain friend (some say his relative) the harte-
beeste together do not convey the impression of
being antelopes in the least, as will be seen

128 THE BRINDLED GNU

when I come to describe him in his turn. The
blue wildebeeste is a heavy-looking, hairy-headed,
brindled creature, standing perhaps a little more
than 4 feet at the shoulder, but high on the
withers, whence the back slopes very sharply
down to the root of his tail. The horns, carried
by both sexes, though not unshapely, yet lack
the general appearance of antelope horns, con-
veying rather, at first sight, the supposition of
having belonged to some singular family of under-
sized buffaloes.

Zambezia contains two different families of
wildebeeste, the first the type I have just im-
perfectly described, and the second, called for
inadequate reasons the ‘“‘ Nyasaland’ Gnu,
found but sparsely in that British Protectorate,
but existing much more. numerously in the
centre of the Quelimane district and the rolling
country between Chiperoni Mountain and the
wide plains of Boror. The Nyasaland variety
was discovered by my old friend Mr. H. C.
Macdonald about the year 1896, who shot the
first specimen secured not far from Zomba. The
differences between the ordinary brindled and the
Nyasaland gnu are chiefly that whilst the first
named is, as described above, extremely hairy
about the head and neck, the latter, with the
exception of a somewhat lanky mane, possesses
but little in the way of hirsute embellishment of
an exuberant character. <A further peculiarity
displayed by the Nyasaland variety is a rather
singular inverted white chevron upon the frontal
bone an inch or two below the eyes. Whether

‘AND . INWIVSVAN,,

‘ger “f avf OL

THE BRINDLED GNU 129

this chevron is constant or not, or tends, as in
the case of the elands, to be individual rather
than general, it is of course difficult authori-
tatively to say, but there are grounds for
supposing it to be much more marked in some
specimens than in others.

On wide, rolling, or flat plains bordering
forest country and near to water wildebeeste
may at times be seen in very large herds. In
thinly forested, woodland scenery, although not
often found, they may at times be met with, but
in smaller numbers. Often in the early morning
one may see them feeding quietly on their way
back from water to the edge of the forest, and
again at late afternoon they may be observed
in a long string making their way down for their
evening drink. They are grass-feeders, and
greatly given to associating with other animals,
especially water-buck, zebras, and other dwellers
in the open plains. At a short distance they
appear to be almost black, the contrast being
doubtless heightened by the pale colour of their
surroundings in the winter months of the shooting
season.

On the Urema plains of Gorongoza a few
years ago brindled gnus were very abundant.
From the vantage-ground of partial concealment
in a palm belt in which my camp was for some
days pitched, I have watched their comings
and goings at almost all hours of the day. On
one occasion, having wounded a fine male, my
hunter and I came up to him, after a long
and wearisome spooring, in a wide, thick belt of

130 THE BRINDLED GNU

handsome phoenix palms. Here we came right
upon him. The hunter, a young and courageous
man, dashed past me, and attacked the animal
with his spear, but made a bad shot and missed,
whereupon the wildebeeste, uttering a succession
of sounds, between a snort and a grunt, turned
determinedly upon him. The native, in en-
deavouring to avoid the animal’s rush, stumbled
heavily, and the pursuing beast was almost
upon him before I was enabled, by a hasty but
successful shot, to put an end to the incident
and to the wildebeeste also. On another occasion,
a wounded wildebeeste I was endeavouring to
photograph leaped to its feet and advanced upon
me with such an air of threatening resolution
that I precipitately abandoned my camera
and sought safety in the possession of my
rifle once more. But it is on approaching a
herd fof these animals that they resort to the
attitude of simulated fierceness to which I
referred at the commencement of my descrip-
tion.

You may have made them out, for instance,
feeding upon open plain in the early morning,
or in some lovely forest clearing where approach
is merely a matter of care. You may have
reached a point where further concealment is
impossible or useless, and you have disclosed
your presence without more ado. For some
few seconds the astonished herd will regard you
en phalanx. Then one or other or several of
the front rank will snort loudly, nodding their
heads in an exasperated way, as a horse does

THE BRINDLED GNU 131

with an uncomfortable bit, and paw the ground
viciously. If you now pick out one and fire,
instead of making good these futile menaces,
the whole herd will instantly wheel round and
stampede madly, to pull up, wheel round, and
renew their stare after a few hundred yards have
been covered. The wounded member, even
though mortally hit, will often dash wildly round
in a half-circle and follow his companions, or at
least attempt to do so. I have known them,
on more than one occasion, with a bullet through
the heart, cover quite a considerable distance
before falling.

Whilst I was camped on the Urema flats,
blue wildebeeste at evening often fed up to
within 100 or 150 yards of my tent, if the wind
happened to be favourable, without displaying
the smallest uneasiness or, I think, making us
out.

The calves make their appearance, I am told,
in the months of December and January. They
are curious, brown, lanky little things with large
plaintive eyes and a depressing and ceaseless
bleat. One of these was brought into my camp
on one occasion by the carriers. It was most
friendly, and took milk very confidingly. I
kept it alive for nearly a fortnight, when suddenly
it died, after having become quite touchingly
tame. These animals seem to be distinguished
in their early youth by extreme and dispro-
portionate length of limb. It is stated that their
mothers hide them in remote grass patches whilst
very young during the day, and doubtless many

132 LICHTENSTEIN’S HARTEBEESTE

must fall victims to leopards, hyenas, and other
predatory forms. The mothers, my hunters
informed me, are extremely vicious about this
period and, they were unanimous in declaring,
would assuredly attack any intruder, either
human or otherwise.

Wildebeeste are not difficult to approach,
and the shooting of these animals has never
seemed to me to offer much in the way of sport.
I have killed them over and over again when
their meat became necessary for the maintenance
of my people. Their heads form an interesting
but not very striking trophy should the mask not
have been preserved ; but, unless this be done,
the huge frontal bone is most unsightly, and the
whole skull possesses little enough to redeem it
from utter gruesomeness.

Lichtenstein’s hartebeeste I regard as the
least attractive of all the antelopes which roam
the forests and plains of Zambezia. It is a
wretched creature both from the point of view
of appearance and from that of sport. Still, I
suppose, most of the many hunters of big game
who read these pages will recall him to mind with
an indulgent smile. Upon him many of us have
fired our first shots, and few there be assuredly
whose recollections of him do not connect them-
selves with a liberal use of forcible language. A
hard beast he truly is, his tenacity of life as-
tonishing. Even when mortally wounded, he
will often lead the weary and perspiring hunter
long distances before consenting to be brought
to bag. There is something unspeakably ex-

LICHTENSTEIN’S HARTEBEESTE 133

asperating in his ungainly, bounding canter, in
the course of which he appears clumsily to lift
all four feet from off the ground at the same time,
and glances back now and then with an almost
exaggerated air of awed, deprecating surprise
which sits well indeed upon his long, coffin-shaped
face.

The hartebeeste is a lover of trees. One
usually finds him in the thinly forested woodlands
which form the foothills of a mountain range, or
on moderately high, undulating, slightly wooded
plains. He is found at times in the lower ex-
panses, but only on such of these as afford shelter
from the sun, and at the same time are not
covered with thick brushwood, which he greatly
dislikes. In park-like alternations of forest and
grass he is most at home, and these are the
localities where in the past I seem to recollect
most frequently to have seen him. He is almost
entirely a grass-eater, and does not stray far
from water, at which he drinks twice during the
day—at early dawn and at evening. I have
seen them in dull or rainy weather drinking as
late as eight or nine o’clock in the morning,
but this I believe to be quite an exceptional
occurrence.

Found in small assemblages of from ten to
thirty, although both sexes carry the mean-
looking horns with which they have by nature
been provided, the merest tyro could find no
possible difficulty in distinguishing the bulls from
the cows: the latter are much paler in their

almost ochreous yellow than the bright reddish
Io

134 LICHTENSTEIN’S HARTEBEESTE

brown of the males. They are, moreover, con-
siderably smaller. The belly and the insides of
the legs are a dirty cream colour, almost white
in the case of the females, while the tail, knees,
and mane are black. They are extraordinarily
awkwardly shaped animals, the back sloping to
the croup at an astonishingly abrupt angle,
which may possibly have suggested their re-
sponsibility in the long-dead past for a similar
peculiarity—if perhaps not quite so marked—in
the family of the wildebeestes.

Hartebeestes have, however, one redeeming
feature, which has gained for them the whole-
hearted respect of most, if not all, hunters: their
meat is excellent—second only, I think, to that
of the eland.

They are curious and rather stupid animals,
and on being disturbed will canter clumsily off for
a few hundred yards, then stop and turn round,
regarding the approach of the hostile agency with
an expression of pained remonstrance. These
tactics they will repeat over and over again,
managing, with the nicest perception, to keep just
beyond effective rifle range.

On one occasion I had an opportunity to ap-
preciate the amazing toughness of these animals.
I had been camped for several days under the
shadow of mighty Gorongoza Mountain, and had
been enjoying some very satisfactory sport, when
one evening, being on the point of returning to
camp, I made out from the top of an ant-heap a
very fine herd bull, looking almost dark from
among the paler females by which he was ac-

ESE:

HARLEBI

LICHT ENSTEIN'S

To face p. 134.

LICHTENSTEIN’S HARTEBEESTE 135

companied. They were over 200 yards off at
the time, and it was evident that I should
have to make an effort to get nearer, as they
had already begun to betray symptoms of sus-
picion. Leaving my hunter fairly conspicuously
displayed on the summit of the ant-heap for the
purpose of monopolising their attention, I de-
scended, and began a crawl on hands and knees
to gain the shelter of a large tree-trunk which had
doubtless been long beforeuprooted in some violent
forest storm. Very gradually and quietly I
reached my goal without misadventure, and
found myself separated by not much more than
90 yards from the preoccupied animals, whose
attention was still obviously fixed upon my hunter
on the top of his ant-heap. I could see the bull’s
horns easily enough, but a wretched cow had ob-
truded her mean person between us, and stood
almost in the line of fire, consuming me with
anxiety lest, in case they retreated, the bull
should continue to be covered by her. After a
few moments of uncertainty, the hunter solved
the difficulty for me by slipping from his position
on the ant-heap and rolling a yard or so down. I
knew that this would send the hartebeeste off,
and at that moment they swung round, and the
bull’s shoulder was uncovered. On receiving my
first *803 hollow-pointed bullet he staggered, but
though obviously hard hit he galloped off after
the retreating cows, my second shot having
apparently completely missed him. Joined by
the hunters and other natives, I lost no time in
taking up the appreciable blood spoor; but we

136 LICHTENSTEIN’S HARTEBEESTE

had covered almost, if not quite, a quarter of a
mile before we almost stumbled over him lying
at his last gasp in a patch of high stipa
grass.

On examination, I found that my first shot
carried a little high, but would have proved fatal
in the end, as it had pierced the lung. My second,
however, a Jeffery split bullet, had entered near
the root of the tail, and had practically passed
through the entire length of the unfortunate beast’s
body. It will thus be seen that, with one mortal
wound and a second if anything severer one, this
hartebeeste had nevertheless succeeded in tra-
versing a surprising distance before finally suc-
cumbing to them. This was an exceptionally
fine beast, and measured just under 52 inches at
the shoulder.

Lichtenstein hartebeestes are theonly members
of that family of seven or eight species found in
the Portuguese Province of Mozambique. The
remaining seven are scattered all over Africa, from
Bechuanaland in the south to the Bahr-el-Ghazal
in the north. There is, however, a strong family
resemblance among the different branches, and
no special knowledge is necessary to enable the
sportsman readily to identify them. Here, more-
over, is another instance of astonishing gregarious-
ness. Hartebeeste are quite as frequently as not
found with zebra or wildebeeste, and I have more
than once seen them accompanying a herd of
sable. In these circumstances they are a nuisance,
which frequently prevents, or renders most
difficult, a successful approach to the more im-

THE TSESSEBE 137

portant animal. They are absolutely inoffensive
and harmless, and I have never heard of any case
in which they have displayed the smallest symptom
of aggressiveness even under the most intolerable
provocation.

Poor old hartebeeste! He will always have
my esteem and gratitude for the many excellent
meals with which he has supplied me, however
much my feelings may be tempered by un-
profitable recollections of the many weary miles
he has made me traverse for them.

Only in two localities in South-East Africa am
I aware of the existence of that singular type, the
Tsessebe. In East Luabo I have seen a few small
herds on the plains bordering the banks of the
Mungari River, and I remember some years ago
having seen on the Pungwe River near Beira a
few of these animals consorting with water-buck
and a few herds of zebras. North of the Zambezi
it has not as yet, to my knowledge, been traced,
although I fancied, whilst on a journey from
Nyasaland to Quelimane in 1911, that I saw a
spoor which bore a striking resemblance to that
of the tsessebe. It was the seme shapely,
clear-cut impression as that of the harte-
beeste, but just a little large and a trifle less
pointed.

I have been informed by Sir Alfred Sharpe
that in certain portions of South Central Africa—
for instance in the valley of the Loangwa River,
and on the immense plains surrounding Lake
Bangweolo—very large herds of these animals
may be seen—so large, indeed, as to contain

138 THE TSESSEBE

many hundreds in each. If this be the case,
I think there must be some difference between
them and the South African type, which
is rarely if ever seen in parties of more
than a dozen, and usually in smaller groups
still.

Tsessebe are always in the plains. They are
grass-eaters, and seem to experience little if any
inconvenience from the terrific heat of the mid-
day sun, so there they remain. Rather larger
than the hartebeeste we have been considering,
one shot by me in Luabo several years ago
reached a shoulder measurement of 57 inches.
Their colouring is not unlike that of the harte-
beeste, but somewhat brighter, whilst the coat,
especially of the males, is distinguished by a
remarkable gloss, which, unfortunately, fades
away soon after death. They are exceedingly
hard to kill; but as cover or concealment is never
sought, the task of bringing a wounded animal
to bag becomes simply a question of how seriously
it has been wounded, and how far the hunter
is prepared to follow it up.

Tsessebe are not sporting or agreeable animals
to hunt. The awkward, hartebeeste-like body,
the clumsy, loping, cantering flight, his long
fiddle-head with the unfinished-looking horns—
all these combine to stamp him as an animal not
worth the trouble of serious pursuit—except
for considerations of larder—ffom the moment
a good specimen head has once been secured.
Personally, I have been at peace with the tsessebe
for many years; but my recollections of his

THE TSESSEBE 139

pursuit rather painfully connect themselves with
a chase after a wounded animal which seemed
to bear a charmed life, of several burning hours
spent in hunting him down—and of a bog!
But I got him.

CHAPTER VII

INYALA : BUSHBUCK : REEDBUCK: IMPALA:
DUIKER : LIVINGSTONE’S ANTELOPE : ORIBI :
KLIPSPRINGER : STEENBUCK

Untit Major Statham discovered that rare and
beautiful form, the Inyala, in the Gorongoza
district, between Beira and the Zambezi, some
three or four years ago, I had always believed
that, with the exception of a limited number
which occur some distance up the Sabi River,—
or at all events did so as late as 1907,—no inyala
were to be found between that point and a small
area near Chiromo in British Nyasaland, which,
in the early years of the far-distant nineties,
used to be somewhat facetiously called ‘“‘ Rose-
bery Park.’ I never knew why this somewhat
high-sounding designation should have come to
be conferred upon a portion of the west bank of
the Shiré River, which, tor tropical wildness and
unpark-like aspect, was, at the time of which
I write, probably second to no other in the
country; but old Central Africans, who were
my contemporaries of those days, may perhaps
remember that this region, whether it came to be
called Rosebery Park during his long sojourn
in the country I cannot recall, was the camping
place of an extremely delightful and entertaining

140

THE INYALA 141

Frenchman whose name, Edouard Foa, is still
remembered. Monsieur Foa afterwards wrote
an account of his hunting and wanderings in
which, if I mistake not, although reference is
made to Rosebery Park, but little light is thrown,
I fear, upon the obscure reasons for its having
been so named. In any case, within a stone’s-
throw of Rosebery Park inyala were, and I
believe still are, to be found. Persons desiring
to secure a specimen of this antelope whilst
hunting in Zambezia will thus have an oppor-
tunity of doing so in a district within easy reach ;
otherwise the representatives of this attractive
family to be found on the Sabi are, Iam informed,
extremely difficult to get at, occurring as they
do in a portion of the country which has been
described as an oasis in the midst of a sort of
desert of thirsty bush-country. The Marchese
de Pizzardi, shooting there in 1907, secured a
very beautiful specimen, of which he showed me
the skin; but the hunt after it occupied some
two months, and the experiences he described
to me were certainly not of the pleasantest. I
have no knowledge of the remote district in which
Major Statham discovered his specimens the
following year, and therefore can say little
about it except that from what he told me it
is a part of the country which takes a long
time to reach.

The singular characteristic of the inyala,
which confines a certain number, never very
large, to a given restricted area, no more occurring
for, it may be, many hundreds of miles until

142 THE INYALA

the next habitation of another assemblage is
reached, is, I believe, a peculiarity which is not
noticeable in any other member of the Zambezian
fauna. There can be little doubt that this
strange habit connects itself with food considera-
tions, which cause the local concentration of
this fine animal in areas which, without incon-
veniencing them in the smallest degree, could
almost be confined within a ring fence. They
are lovers of dense bush, into which soon after
dawn they slowly retire, to issue forth, if undis-
turbed, once more near sunset. They drink
twice a day or, if unmolested, oftener; whilst
their food, so far as is known at present, consists
but little of grass, a strong predilection being
displayed for the leaves, fruits, and seed-vessels
of a variety of forest growths, the names of
which would convey but little, I fear, to the
average sportsman at home.

In appearance the male inyala is a beautiful,
stately beast. The horns, which are not carried
by the females, are of almost exactly the same
shape as those of his relative the bushbuck, but
attain to greater length and thickness, and are
tipped with yellowish white. Ido not know what
may be the present record, but I should regard
23 inches, measured along the curve, as being
distinctly good. The colouring of this animal is
very beautiful and unusual. The males vary con-
siderably, a fact due doubtless to age, environ-
ment, or other considerations, but those I have
seen are of a singular purplish grey, with a full,
beard-like, goaty fringe under the throat which

THE INYALA 143

imparts to the animal a most patriarchal appear-
ance. From withers to croup the skin is divided
by a black line which follows the dorsal ridge
to the root of the tail, whilst the flanks are
striped and spotted with white. The females,
smaller in size than the males, are of a rich dark
chestnut.

I am sorry to have to confess that I have
never succeeded in securing a specimen of the
inyala. I fear, therefore, my hints upon how he
should be hunted can only be regarded as based
upon information I have received; but it is
generally conceded that success is dependent upon
two vital factors—namely, to be on your ground
some time before daylight, and not to take your
first chance unless you are satisfied that the head
is a good one.

The inyala is most jealously protected in
both the British and the Portuguese Spheres of
Influence in Africa, and, as a rule, the sportsman
is restricted to one. It therefore becomes highly
necessary to use the most careful discrimination,
and to wait for another day rather than incur
the risk of exhausting your opportunity for any-
thing under a good average measurement’; and as
inyala are known to be astonishingly regular in
their daily habits, a postponement of your shot
until the following morning is a measure whose
adoption need give rise to no misgiving, since I
am assured by competent observers and hunters
that from the same hiding-place they have, day
after day, been passed by exactly the same
animals at precisely the same time. I never knew,

144 THE INYALA—THE BUSHBUCK

nor had I ever the courage to inquire, what the
precise features were by which they were so un-
erringly recognised and identified, but the state-
ments were made with such an impressive
visage de circonstance that I felt too subdued to
insist upon obscure and wearisome details.

The Bushbuck, a near relative of the in-
yala, carries horns, so far as the males are con-
cerned, of similar form but smaller dimensions—
15 or 16 inches being considered a very good head
—and without, as a rule, the straw-coloured tip.
Bushbuck are found all over South, Central, and
Kast Africa, and are handsome, sporting, and, on
occasion, aggressive little beasts. The males are
of a deep grizzled brown, with a tinge of red upon
their white striped and spotted flanks, whilst the
hair along the dorsal ridge and on the hind-
quarters is rather long. The females are much
paler—usually of a light reddish yellow—and
their body striping is by no means so conspicuous.
Both sexes are white under the belly and on the
insides of the legs. Whilst the coloration of the
bushbuck is one of the most inconstant things in
nature, it is, to what extent soever it may vary,
always harmonious and handsome. The most
southerly representatives of this interesting family
are extremely dark-coated, and, if cornered, reck-
lessly brave—so much so that,small as this animal
is (the weight of a full-grown male would probably
be about 90 lbs.), fatal casualties are said to have
happened to incautious persons, whilst dogs em-
ployed in hunting them are frequently killed in
the resulting encounters. As they extend north-

“MONUGHSNI

hh cg anf of

THE BUSHBUCK 145

ward, however, the exuberance of both colour and
courage appears to wane, until, as Zambezia is
reached, we find an animal to all bodily appearance
similar to the Cape bushbuck but often of a dark
vellowish chestnut. There is none, or but little,
of that striking bluish grey which is so great an
attraction in the southern form, while the striping
and spotting are somewhat less distinct.

Few wild animals there are assuredly whose
flesh is so extraordinarily good as is that of the
African bushbuck. I remember when, some vears
ago, I lived at Zomba in the Nyasaland Pro-
tectorate, the wooded ravines of the plateau of
that splendid mountain were the favourite haunts
of large numbers of bushbuck. Meat in those
days—in the shape of beef or mutton—was a
luxury upon which our minds had long ceased to
brood except occasionally when in gentle, re-
miniscent mood. Our daily fare was frugal in
the extreme, and consisted of wearisome, unlovely
dishes of under-flavoured fowl or over-flavoured
goat. Occasionally, however, one or other of the
energetic ones would ascend the mountain and pass
a day and a night on its cool, healthy uplands,
there being after his return, for a brief season, an
attraction which enabled us to face the dinner-
table almost with enthusiasm, and revel in
the unwonted luxury of grilled bushbuck
steaks.

These antelopes, unlike the other members of
the order to which they belong, are never found
in herds or considerable assemblages ; as a rule
you only see two together, male and female, with,

146 THE BUSHBUCK

possibly, their offspring. Often only one at a
time is met with. They frequent the thickest
forest and bush, in which they lie up during the
day. They feed on a variety of leaves, roots,
and seed-vessels, and, in parts of the country
where they are not much disturbed, commit
serious depredations in the native gardens.

Bushbuck are extremely pugnacious, and their
encounters during the rutting season are fought
with such fury and resolution as to cost the lives
of many of the males. My old friend the late
Mr. John Buchanan, C.M.G., once told me of an
occasion on which he surprised two male bush-
buck fighting in his coffee plantations. So intent
were they upon their own affairs that they paid
not the smallest attention to his approach, al-
though he was accompanied by one or more
natives. The fight raged, he assured me, for
more than ten minutes, at the end of which time
one of the combatants became stunned by a
heavy thrust or blow from the sharp-pointed
horn of his adversary, and sank to the ground,
whereupon the victor, uttering a triumphant bark,
and perceiving his human audience for the first
time, dashed off into the bush. The vanquished
animal was secured by Mr. Buchanan’s natives
and, I believe, deposited in the zoological col-
lection at Zomba, where, I understand, it un-
fortunately died.

In the higher and more mountainous regions
of Zambezia the same bushbuck as the one I have
described is common. In the early morning,
especially if the day be dull and cloudy, they may

THE BUSHBUCK—THE REEDBUCK 147

be seen feeding in the grassy clearings and on the
edge of the bush until a late hour. They are, as
a rule, by no means difficult to approach while
still unsuspicious, and even when they realise
the nature of the pursuit will often lie low, starting
away on nearer approach with a frantic rush and
the characteristic bark. But while feeding, es-
pecially away from one, I have sometimes, with a
favourable wind, succeeded in gaining a point
not more than 60 or 70 yards away. But when,
as occasionally happens, there are several of these
animals together, and a male happens to be of
the party, the females are more wary and, I
have sometimes thought, give him the alarm.

The natives of South-East Africa are greatly
addicted to catching bushbuck—and other small
antelope—by means of driving them with dogs
into long, advantageously placed nets. I have
been told that these periodical drives, in which
sometimes several villages jointly take part, are
responsible for the deaths of large numbers of
these animals, and I hope efforts will be made by
the respective African Governments to put a stop
to a custom which exacts a yearly and deplorable
toll from the smaller antelopes of all kinds.

Reedbuck are found in greatest plenty near to
the coast-line, although, of course, they haunt,
in lesser numbers, the whole of the interior of
East and South Central Africa.

Take, for example, one of the many small
rivers which, both to the north and south of the
great Zambezi, discharge their waters into the
Mozambique channel. As they near the coast

148 THE REEDBUCK

their courses run through immense open plains,
and may be traced low down on the horizon for
many miles by a dark winding belt of wild date-
palms, acacias of several kinds, albizzias, and
other water-loving growths. Behind these again
you come to a more or less wide belt of high
spear-grass, and, as the surface of the plain re-
cedes from the water, to reeds and grasses of a
reasonable growth. This is the place for reed-
buck. Near the mouths of the Mupa and Mun-
gari Rivers I have seen their clear-cut footprints
in the sand of the seashore, whilst in the various
mouths of the Zambezi—especially the Chinde
mouth—they were so numerous that the fact was
officially noted on the Admiralty charts of twenty
years ago. At the mouth of the Mungari there is
a curious and somewhat extensive peninsula of
low-lying grass land. On this, towards evening,
I have counted from the summit of an ant-heap
more than twenty reedbuck feeding in sight at
the same time, and on one occasion, not very
many miles away from the point mentioned, being
forced by the failure of a supply of grain to arrive
in time to provide meat for my hungry carriers,
I killed six of these antelopes in about three-
quarters of an hour.

The reedbuck is a beautiful, graceful type of
animal about the size of a fallow deer. As its
name implies, and as I have just shown, it is a
dweller in reeds and loves the neighbourhood
of water. It is an animal which adheres strictly
to the family circle, and thus, although a number
may be seen at the same time extending over a

THE REEDBUCK 149

wide area, it may be taken that on the whole
the little groups of two or three form the limit
of their sociable instincts. They are perfectly
harmless, become exceedingly tame, and grow
wonderfully, and I think affectionately, appre-
ciative of kind and gentle treatment. Many
years ago, when I lived for a time at Chinde, the
main navigable branch of the Zambezi delta,
I kept a young male reedbuck a by no means
unhappy or unwilling captive in the gardens
of the Vice-Consulate. He was remarkably
handsome and intelligent, and a great lover of
sugar, for which he would come readily, and
somewhat boisterously, when called, his eager-
ness on one occasion resulting in the wrecking
of the afternoon tea-table, and great grief in
the matter of cups and saucers. Poor Wilfred !
A roving hyena came one night and robbed me
of one of the most cherished of the many wild
friends with which Africa has from time to time
endowed me.

Of a pale reddish brown, creamy white under
the belly and inside the thighs, the male carries
a handsome pair of outward-spreading horns
annulated for about half their length and thence
smooth to the tips. In Zambezia these horns
are small compared with those from other parts
of Africa, 14 inches being the measurement of
an exceptionally good pair. When alarmed, they
usually sink down low in the grass, very much
as a hare sometimes does, doubtless in the hope
of the danger passing them by undiscovered ;

but if satisfied that the hostile agency is in pursuit
it

150 THE REEDBUCK

of them, they utter a wheezy but penetrating
whistle, and bound rapidly away. Even when
in full flight, however, in districts where they
have not been much hunted, I have more than
once checked them by whistling shrilly, although
this does not by any means always succeed.
Their food consists, I believe, entirely of grass,
and their meat is a most appreciable addition
to one’s table.

In the early nineties, when the British Navy
maintained two small stern-wheel gunboats on
the Lower Zambezi, I have on several occasions
accompanied the officers of these vessels on
shooting excursions up the Inyamaria and Inya-
makativa channels, as also through the Madridane
opening to the lower or Inyamissengo branch.
Here we have shot numbers of reedbuck, which
on our return were greatly appreciated by those
at Chinde, who, by force of circumstances, were
only able to obtain a substance dimly resembling
fresh meat about once a week. I do not know if
conditions have greatly changed, but it seems to
me more than probable that even now the
numbers of the reedbuck in the Zambezi delta
may not have been greatly thinned since the
time I mention. Still, shooting reedbuck only
is doubtless far from an exciting form of sport,
although there was, in my recollection of these
hunting grounds, frequent opportunity of an en-
counter with larger and more interesting beasts.

The Impala is essentially a forest - loving
animal, and perhaps of all the smaller of the
African antelopes the most beautiful and graceful.

“MONTEL

oG1 ff oF

THE IMPALA 151

Although it is fairly abundant throughout
South-East Africa, and exceedingly plentiful in
Zambezia, the horns carried by the males in the
latter district are much smaller than those found
in the northern half of the continent. This
peculiarity, however, in no way detracts from
the beauty of the animal, or from the grace
and charm which they lend to their surroundings.

I should regard as the most favourable haunts
of impala a park-like alternation of forest and
glade near the banks of some such river as the
Shiré, where, above the Murchison Cataracts, I
have seen them in herds of fifty or more. On
the banks of the Zambezi they do not seem to be
very plentiful until the Lupata Gorge is reached.
Both above this point and below impala are not
uncommon, but the gorge itself is too stony and
barren for them.

The males, rising to about 86 inches at the
shoulder, are of a brilliant, glossy chestnut,
fading beneath their bodies to delicate fawn and
pure white under the belly and legs. Their
handsome horns are lyre-shaped and ringed, the
somewhat widely set annulations being separated
by deep notches. I suppose one would regard
20 inches round the curves as the measurement
of a good head, but then, as I have pointed out,
they are much smaller in Zambezia and Nyasa-
land than in East Africa and Uganda.

Mr. H. L. Duff in his delightful book Nyasa-
land under the Foreign Office, published some
years ago, mentions a very curious and unusual
peculiarity observed by him in the case of the

152 THE IMPALA

impala found in that rising colony—namely, that
during the winter months, which no doubt
coincide with the period of gestation, the males
separate from the herd and keep scrupulously
to themselves apart. It is a somewhat singular
fact, if Mr. Duff’s observations should have been
correct, that in the adjoining Portuguese Sphere
the impala found there, which are identical
with the Nyasaland family, occur in the winter
months in their greatest numbers, and, so far
from there being any separation of the sexes,
the winter months seem always to bring them
together. For this there would seem to be a
comprehensible reason in the fact that during
that season of the year the grazing grounds
would be much more circumscribed than in the
rainy season, when the whole face of the country
is covered with a marvellously luxuriant tropical
vegetation, affording a much wider range for
the impala, as, of course, for all other similar
species. It is doubtless due to this that during
the summer or rainy season the presence of
these animals in the vicinity of perennial streams
is much less remarkable than in the winter
months.

I can imagine no greater delight for a lover of
nature than to stalk close up to a herd of impala
and watch them from some place of concealment.
Nothing could exceed the grace and daintiness
of their every movement. If the herd be a large
one, containing representatives of all ages and
conditions, the picture is even still more com-
pelling. As in the cases of so many species of

To face p. 152.

IMPALA.

THE IMPALA 153

African game, upon the female would seem to
devolve the important duty of ensuring the safety
of the entire community by the maintenance of
unbroken vigilance. The older males stand or
lie about, doubtless not insensible to the growing
weight of the fleeting years; their heads are held
rather low, their inadequate tails ceaselessly
flicking at the wearisome flies, assisted now and
then by the shadow of a backward-thrust horn.
The younger animals, gaily conscious of the
joie de vivre of the bright period of golden youth
through which they are passing, hasten the slowly
fleeting hours by means of a succession of friendly
sparring matches, rearing up, goat-like, on their
hind legs and clicking their half-grown horns
together as head meets head in playful combat.
The smaller fry, not yet possessed of horns or other
outward and visible signs of advancing adoles-
cence, lie near their mothers, chewing the cud
with a quick, impatient movement of the tiny
jaws. Over all, permeating all, an air of in-
effable peace. Should, however, the sacrilegious
observer grow weary of the arcadian scene, and
his material soul yearn with a savage desire to
possess a remarkably fine pair of horns which he
espies adorning the shapely head of one of the
elders of the small community, the effect produced
by the discharge of his rifle is as astonishing as the
previous one was beautiful. With one impulse,
as though moved by an irresistible electric shock,
the impala leap to their feet with a quick snort of
alarm. They cannot at first understand the
nature of the calamity that has befallen, and they

154 THE IMPALA

stand irresolute, looking this way and that, some
of the younger animals, for no apparent reason,
bounding high into the air. Ifthe hunter remain
hidden, several shots could be fired before the
animals appear to realise what has happened to
them, when, uttering a loud bark, not unlike that
of the bushbuck, they stream away, leaping
again and again ten and twelve feet into the air
with a marvellous, elastic, bird-like bound which
betrays a power such as probably no other animal
in the world possesses in equal degree. Having
retreated five or six hundred yards, the herd will
often stop and reconnoitre curiously. If by this
time the hunter should have discovered himself,
or should have shown any disposition to follow
on their tracks, they then lose no time in putting
a much greater distance between themselves and
him. They have a curious habit as a rule of
retreating in a wide circle, and more than once,
on having failed to get a shot on my first approach,
I have been successful in cutting them off by
hastily following a line at an angle to that of their
retreat.

They suffer severely from the attacks of wild
animals, every species of the carnivorous families
seeming to have formed a partiality for their
flesh. So much is this the case that it appears
hard to account for their immense numbers.
Fortunately, they have been endowed with mar-
vellous reproductive powers, and are, with per-
haps the exception of the duikers, the only ante-
lopes within my knowledge capable of producing,
as they occasionally do, more than one calf at a

THE IMPALA—THE DUIKERS 155

birth. For table purposes I do not think their
meat compares with either that of the bushbuck
or the reedbuck, although it is by no means to be
despised ; it has asomewhat singular flavour, which
personally I do not appreciate, probably due to
their diet of the leaves of certain aromatic bushes
and trees, favourite among which is a short,
stunted, elm-like growth with a very pale bark
whose name I do not know, but which is singularly
characteristic of the country most favoured by
impala, especially in the winter season.
Zambezia possesses all three members of
the Duiker family—the blue, the red, and the
grey. In my experience, however, they are all
three less general there than in certain districts
of Nyasaland, in the Barué, and the Mozam-
bique Company’s territory. I suppose Shupanga
Forest, and the wide wooded plains to the east-
ward which follow the course of the Zambezi
almost to the sea, may contain larger numbers
of these small antelopes than are found on the
north bank of the river ; and this view of the case
coincides with the opinions of several experienced
hunters with whom I have exchanged notes. Of
the last named, the general coloration is a deep
brownish red, paling to faint yellow under the
belly. They have also, seen in the forest, a curious
greenish shade of colour which seems to disappear
on a nearer approach. Jam not sure which is the
larger of the two, but fancy, if there be any ap-
preciable difference, that the advantage would be
found rather with the so-called red than with the
grey duikers; the curiously named blue variety

156 THE DUIKERS

being almost, if not quite, the smallest of all the
African antelopes, its size when full-grown being
not much, if anything, bigger than that of the
common wild rabbit.

The red duiker is of a foxy red colour, paling
under the belly and inside the thighs in very much
the same manner as the smaller beast. Taken
roughly, on an average I should consider it prob-
able that the grey or common duiker may reach in
the forests of Zambezia a shoulder measurement
of 22 inches or thereabouts, whilst that of the
red may perhaps reach 23.

A very curious habit which these animals
share with the klipspringer of the mountains and,
I think, the steenbuck is that of depositing their
dung in the same place over considerable periods
of time. I have frequently seen piles of their
droppings of varying ages in the forest which
must have taken many days, or even weeks, to
accumulate. They are entirely forest-loving
animals, and very rarely leave the cover of the
thick bush. At times, early in the morning, they
may be seen feeding on the edge of the trees; but
even this is of rare occurrence. On the appear-
ance of danger they crouch, and I have often known
them lie until but a few yards separated us, when
they would bolt like hares, leaping high over the
bushes and other impedimenta with a rapidity
which seemed to suggest the shotgun rather than
the rifle. Iam told that a charge of fairly heavy
shot is quite efficacious in bringing them to bag,
but have always felt rather nervous of making a
fruitless attempt, which would only cause pain

Nea

To face p. 156.

DUIKER.

THE DUIKERS 157

and suffering to the pretty, inoffensive little beast.
I have, therefore, in shooting duiker and small
buck adhered for some years to a most reliable
little -220 rook rifle which has proved admirably
suited to this form of sport.

The straight, sharp-pointed horns of these
small animals, which reach, in some cases, about
4 inches in Jength, are sometimes, though ex-
ceptionally, carried by females. It is, however,
extremely difficult, if not impossible, on their
bolting, when they invariably go straight away at
a tremendous pace, to distinguish, in the shade
of the forest, whether the animal carries horns
or not.

Duiker are usually seen in pairs or singly.
They are often found at prodigious distances from
water, and I am convinced are able to dispense
with it over long intervals of time. This I
account for by the tremendous drenching dews
of winter, which, until as late as ten o’clock in
the forenoon, saturate vegetation of every descrip-
tion. The act of feeding, therefore, would furnish
this small animal with sufficient liquid to enable
him in the winter season easily to go for days
without drinking, as that habit is usually under-
stood, whilst in the summer, of course, the entire
face of the country presents suitable drinking
facilities within a few hundred yards of each
other.

Duikers are the most delightful of pets, and
become so tame that they can be taught various
accomplishments. When I resided at Beira a
few years ago I possessed a female of the grey

158 LIVINGSTONE’S ANTELOPE

variety which wandered about both in and out of
the Consular premises very much as she pleased.
She would graze on a large open sand-flat
immediately in rear of the house, fraternising
in the most friendly manner with a fine bush-
buck and some crested cranes, the property of
my neighbours; but she always came _ back
shortly before sunset, when she would sit up on
her hind legs and beg for cigarettes, the tobacco
of which she ate with great eagerness and
enjoyment. In course of time, unfortunately,
she learnt that by dint of much perseverance
she could manage to push up the hid of the silver
cigarette-box with her nose and help herself—
which she did several times, I fear, before discovery
overtook her. She was extremely fond of dry
toast, but would never eat bread; and so far
did her instinctive fears desert her that she paid
not the smallest attention to dogs. On my
return to England in 1906 poor Bessie was given
by me to an English lady residing in Beira, but
shortly afterwards, in endeavouring to leap the
fence of the back premises in which she was
confined, she broke one of her shapely forelegs,
and had to be destroyed.

Among the several remaining small antelopes
to which some reference must be made is that
very beautiful forest-loving type called Living-
stone’s Antelope. This graceful form is extremely
numerous in the forests of Shupanga, as also in
various parts of the Quelimane district, as well
as throughout the northern half of the Mozam-
bique Province.

LIVINGSTONE’S ANTELOPE 159

The habits of these pretty little creatures
are not unlike those of the duikers; they are,
however, much smaller than any except the blue
variety. Except in regions where they are un-
disturbed, it is very difficult to see them, so
wary and alert are they in all their movements.
So far as Iam aware, females of the Livingstone’s
antelope are entirely hornless. The prevailing
colour of the males is reddish fawn, paling, as
in the case of all the antelopes, as it extends
beneath the body. Their horns are to me scarcely
distinguishable from those of the duiker, and as
a rule are about 3 inches in length, their shoulder
measurement reaching 13 or 14 inches. They
are, as I have said, exceedingly wary, and, owing
to the thickness of their favourite haunts, most
difficult to distinguish. I have always, on this
account, felt extremely pleased with myself on
the successful termination of a stalk, the more
so as they appear to have a faculty of marking
every stage of your approach whilst completely
hidden by what you believe to be entirely
covering you. In nine cases out of ten, there-
fore, on arriving at the point you considered to
be nicely within range, the Livingstone is there
no longer.

Here is another of the smaller species which
are believed seldom or never to drink, but to
subsist, in so far as the satisfaction of thirst is
concerned, entirely upon raindrops, dew, and
vegetable juices. In passing through Shupanga
in 1909 I shot a small antelope which I have not
made up my mind was not a Livingstone, but

160 THE ORIBK

which presented what seemed to me several
marked differences. Its colour was not unlike
the type we are considering—namely, a bright
reddish fawn; but the belly and throat were
straw-coloured, whilst, in addition to a marked
darkening of the coat along the dorsal ridge,
the entire skin on the upper portion of the body
was distinguished by an unmistakable tinge of
purple. In bringing this specimen to the coast,
the skin was unfortunately, and to my great regret,
stolen, I suspect by a steamer boy; but as there
are, I believe, no less than close on forty divisions
of the sub-order to which these antelopes belong,
perhaps it is rather a mercy that no further
addition to this number was permitted to be
made.

Oribi occur as a rule most numerously in
the more elevated regions of the Portuguese
Province. They are of two different types—
the Cape oribi, and the variety which has come
to be known as Peters’, a rather smaller animal
than the first mentioned. Their appearance
and habits are very like those of the little ante-
lopes just mentioned, except that their affection
for thick bush is not so marked as in the case
of the duikers. Oribi are often to be seen in
open grass country, on the summits of low moun-
tain plateaux, as also, but not so frequently,
on the plains of the lower levels. They live
exclusively on a grass diet, and from the circum-
stance of being seldom seen far from water it is
to be apprehended that they do not share the
abstemious habits of the duikers and Living-

THE ORIBI—THE KLIPSPRINGER 161

stone’s antelope. They are far from gregarious,
as this term is usually applied, for es a rule a
male accompanied by one or two females make
up the family party. When disturbed cr startled,
oribi ¢> straight away, never pausing to look
back : and, ungallant as I regret to be compelled
to admit it, the male alwevs ieads the way.

As we come to the mountain regions
another minute but graceful form its that of the
leaping Klipspringer. Here is another advo-
cate of abstention from liquid nourishment.
whose scle refresi ment cof that kind is said to
be obtained by chewing the moist frords of the
common aloe. Still there can be no doubt,
when regard is hed to the arid fastnesses of the
granite ranges he inhabits, that in the dry or
winter season it would be impossilsie for him to
obtain water.

One of his peculiarities is the extraordinary
bristly texture of his coarse grevish coat, and
the second is his remarkable hoof, which gives
him a spoor more closely resembling that of a
small pig than anything else I can reccll. But
the amazing, chamois-like confidence with which
he leaps from one cregzv rock to another appar-
ently so distant as to render reaching it impossible
fcr anything unendowed with wings, sailing
almost bird-like over frightful chasms, and
bounding at full speed along the edges of dizzy
slopes, must be seen to be believed. Needless
to sav, he is not easily bagged. He frequents
the sheltered side of a mountain range, especially
those whose wall-like sides rise from an inner

162 THE KLIPSPRINGER—THE STEENBUCK

circle of foothills and spring almost precipitously
until, with a few strongly marked inequalities,
affording foothold for nothing but the klipspringer
or the eagle, they reach the edge of the plateau
above. From these eyries, therefore, except on
the rare occasions of his descents to lower
levels, the klipspringer scans with who shall
say what inner feelings of conscious superiority
the approach of the crawling danger. It requires
but a few effortless springs to bear him safely
out of harm’s way, so there he boldly stands,
chamois-like, or perhaps ibex-like, all four feet
drawn closely together as he balances his shapely
body on some tiny projection or summit of rock
scarcely large enough to offer standing room to
an eagle. A few moments of rapt, statue-like,
inquiring gaze, and he seems to rise abruptly
into the air. A series of rapid, springy bounds
remove him from our ken. He is gone, who
shall say whither ?

I think the tally of the small Zambezian
antelopes exhausts itself with the Steenbuck,
which exists in considerable numbers on the
open grassy plains of the entire district. In
the Cheringoma region, I have seen numbers
of these animals, but, beyond procuring a good
specimen, was but little attracted to them, the
country at that time being full of other and
more interesting beasts, of which, since then, it
has been to a great extent denuded.

Steenbuck are curious, solitary little creatures,
and though found at certain seasons of the year
in grassy clearings and on the edges of the plains,

THE STEENBUCK 163

they may as a rule be met with in scrubby bush
country, and, more rarely, in the forest itself.
After the burning of the grass in the dry season,
and with the appearance of the new tender shoots
which, about the month of September, begin to
surround the blackened grass roots, the steenbuck
and other tiny forms steal quietly out from their
winter retreat, and are then more easily seen than
in the summer. With the duikers and several
other small types they share the peculiarity of
being, it would almost seem, unaffected by the
sound of the discharge of firearms. Whether this
arises from deafness I very much doubt, as their
power of locating other sounds is incontestable ;
but the fact remains that shot after shot may
sometimes be fired at their tiny forms without
causing them to display the smallest concern or
consciousness of what is taking place.

I have on many occasions, whilst sitting down
to rest in the forest atter, it may be, a long and
exhausting tramp after other game, watched
unseen the movements of these pretty, dainty
little creatures as, all unconscious of observation,
they have pursued their daily avocations. I can
see them now, as with slightly bunched-up hind-
quarters, and head held low, they advance
mincingly, a step at a time, along some narrow,
shady forest glade, the tiny, restless, white-edged
tail moving nervously, ceaselessly, and rapidly
from side to side—a personification of wary
alertness, a very incarnation of delicacy and
grace. I think the most delightful family of
domesticated wild things I have ever seen is one

164 THE STEENBUCK

of five small antelopes, strongly resembling the
Livingstone, which I saw recently in the gardens
of the British Agency at Zanzibar. Here a large
piece of shaded lawn had been enclosed, and the
tiny creatures existed in conditions as near their
natural ones as could well be devised. I could
never have wearied of watching them as, entirely
freed from the anxieties and dangers of their
daily lives in the wilds, they gradually grew more
and more accustomed to human society. But,
however tame these small antelopes become in
course of time, they never wholly lose that ten-
dency suddenly to grow panic-stricken at some
momentary fright, unseen and unnoted, it may be,
by the bystanders. I have often seen them in
moments when to all appearance their confidence
had been entirely gained suddenly as it were
withdraw into themselves, and make a rapid dash
for some neighbouring refuge or cover, only to
issue forth a few moments later as calmly as though
nothing had happened to disturb them.

CHAPTER VIII
LION : LEOPARD : LYNX

Tue Lions found in practically all parts of Zam-
bezia are in every respect identical with those of
Central and South Africa. In certain portions of
the country they are very numerous and bold,
whilst in others they appear at intervals only.
It may, however, unhesitatingly be said that
throughout the length and breadth of the country
no single place—not even the most considerable
town or settlement—is safe from periodical
visitations from lions. As a rule these animals
follow game, especially zebras and buffaloes ;
their sign and spoor are also constantly met with
in the vicinity of large herds of elands, and doubt-
less of other animals; but for some reason or other
—it may be due to a periodical liking for change of
diet—lions will suddenly turn their attention to
human habitations, and then either man or his
domestic animals must pay a heavy toll.

In appearance the lion of the Zambezi valley
is a splendid and most majestic creature. Al-
though in all probability no beast known to
zoology has commanded from the earliest days
more interest and attention, one detail regarding
him, so far as I am aware, would appear entirely

to have escaped attention. I refer to his weight
12

166 THE LION

at maturity. I have read many books in which
this animal’s characteristics and appearance have
been ably dealt with, and I have discussed the
point with numerous experienced observers, but
none could tell me with any claim to approximate
correctness what a full-grown lion might weigh.
The largest male shot by me was a heavy burden
for four natives of good physique when secured
to a long bamboo pole, and after carrying him in
to camp, a distance of four or five miles, they dis-
played a considerable amount of fatigue: from
this fact I have been led to estimate the weight of
a well-developed male of medium age at between
350 and 400 lbs.

1 should think that in all probability the
district of Zambezia in which at the present time
more lions are found than in any other may be
that of Boror. Thence, westward, they are found
in considerable numbers round the eastern side of
Morumbala Mountain and on through the Pinda
range. Near Quelimane itself they also occur,
seven having been shot in one week by my late
Consular Agent there, Mr. René Wuilleumier,
about a year ago. But in Boror they are sucha
danger, and so many native lives have been lost
during the past few years as a result of their
attacks, that the Concessionary Company ad-
ministering this immense region advertised not
very long ago a standing offer to pay £25 for every
one destroyed within their borders. This resulted
in the country being visited by several European
hunters, but so far as I have ascertained, not many
successes attended their efforts. I passed through

SSNOVE lO ANTE V

‘og “Ff avs OF

THE LION 167

a portion of Boror in 1911, and, judging from the
sleepless nights that they caused my carriers as
they roared and grunted round the camp, I
should imagine that the evil reputation of this
portion of the country has been in no way
exaggerated. I did not actually see any, as,
being on service at the time, I had no oppor-
tunity of hunting them, added to which the nights
were dark and moonless ; but I have unprofitable
recollections of one vigil of several hours spent
sitting with my rifle across my knee wondering
when the moment for using it would come, whilst
my people, grey with fright, could only be re-
strained with the greatest difficulty from making
a dash for the nearest belt of trees. Inno part of
Africa in which I have lived or travelled have I
heard lions at night in such evident numbers, or
seen by day so much of their spoor. There is
certainly in Boror a fair amount of game, but not
in my opinion sufficient to justify the presence of
the quantities of lions which for years past have
gained for this district so sinister and unenviable
a reputation. The numbers of native casualties
have for years been extraordinarily high—so much
so that the Company have not seldom experienced
difficulty in maintaining communication between
their outposts owing to the natural reluctance of
their employés and labourers to undertake the
duties of mail-carriers. I was informed by the
people themselves that all the lions in Boror were
man-eaters, having developed so keen a relish
for human flesh that they practically left the
game alone; and although this is no doubt an

168 THE LION

exaggerated view to which their fears, and the
great loss of life they have sustained, may have
given rise, the ract remains that more people have
been taken of late years in Boror and the neigh-
bouring Prazo of Lugella than in any part of Africa
with which I have ever been acquainted.

The lion of this part of Africa is a full-maned
beast, varying in the colour of that striking
feature and his skin from dark brown-shaded
grey, with the so-called black mane, to a body
colour of tawny senna with a mane of pronounced
yellowish tinge. I have never seen a maneless
lion in these regions, or one of mature growth
which did not display at least some symptom
of their usual characteristic adornment. It has
been said that the greatest fullness of this
hirsute appendage displays itself in open rather
than in thick bush country, and that in the
latter, due to the losses sustained in traversing
the thorny undergrowth, the manes of these
animals are always poor. Nothing, however,
could coincide less with the results of my own
observations. There are few portions of Zam-
bezia characterised by wide plains such as those
of which such immense areas of South Africa
consist ; almost the whole of the face of the
country is covered by forest usually thick,
thorny, and dense. But of the lions shot by me
in this part of Africa, and of the skins obtained
there which I have examined, I do not remember
one which was not normally maned, whilst the
growth of several has been distinctly above the
average.

THE LION 169

A very interesting skin which I well remember
was one shown to me by my friend Captain
Lage, formerly the Commandant of the great
Barué district to the south of Tete. This, with
a well-developed mane of the so-called yellow
variety, had been taken from a full-grown male
lion which was discovered by natives quite
dead, fully 20 feet from the ground, and firmly
wedged between either two trees growing very
closely tcgether or in the angle of a massive
fork. I was told that from the surrounding
indications it was clearly a case in which this
animal had aroused the resentment of a female
elephant, which had evidently seized him in her
trunk in a paroxvsm of rage and hurled him
into the position in which he was found, whence
it had been impossible to extricate himself.
Both flanks were almost denuded of coat, showing
the frightful struggles he must have made to
escape; but the trees or the branches held firmly,
and who amongst the cowering denizens of the
jungle should obey such a call for help as that ?

It is, of course, very difficult by means of
generalities to afford any adequate basis of
comparison of the sizes of hons—or any other
animals, for the matter of that—existing in various
parts of the country, but the following measure-
ments of a fine male which I shot in the district
we are considering in 1902 may give some clear
idea of the size to which they there attain.
This lion was a fine, well-developed beast in
perfect condition, whose mane, of grey-brown
and yellow under the chin, somewhat exceeded

170 THE LION

the average in size. His length unskinned from
nose to tail was 10 ft. 24 in.; height at shoulder,
3 ft. 64 in.; maximum girth, 4 ft. 5 in.

Lions in my experience, on the rare occasions
when I have met with them by daylight, never
occur in the large parties in which they have
been reported in South Africa, Rhodesia, and
elsewhere. The most I have ever seen together
were five, but more frequently, I think, they are
found in pairs, or two males hunting together.
Although, of course, essentially nocturnal, it
is by no means unusual for them to hunt during
the daylight hours, when, in the case of two or
three acting in concert, their proceedings appear
to be regulated by a well-understood, precon-
certed plan. Thus, one, told off for the purpose,
will very skilfully round up a herd of whatever
animals they may have designs on, and, grunting
noisily, will shepherd them to the spot where
the partners are concealed. Should the attempt
prove abortive, they will all move forward and
repeat it, but if successful they will remain on
the spot, if undisturbed, probably through the
night, going off to water at dawn, after which
they will lie up for the day; possibly revisiting
the remains at night again, or possibly not. If
hunting singly, nothing can exceed the astonish-
ing quietness with which the lion approaches
his prey, and always up wind. No well-fed,
pampered Persian cat ever crossed the velvety
drawing-room carpet more noiselessly. On
arriving, all unsuspected, at the required point,
he makes one lightning dash, usually seizing

THE LION 171

the beast with his great rending canine teeth
upon the nape of the neck, whilst with his claws
he grips hold of the face, pulling it round and
exerting his tremendous strength to break the
victim’s spine. This method of attack, added
to his great weight, soon crushes out all resist-
ance. Unless very hungry, a lion, after killing
a large animal in the manner described, will not
devour him immediately ; he will confine himself
to drinking the blood, which he laps daintily
like the great cat that he is. Thereafter his
proceedings, doubtless hallowed by long custom,
almost invariably follow the same quaint lines.
The kill is first very skilfully disembowelled, and
the entrails are more or less buried. He then
discusses, no doubt by way of hors deuvre,
such dainty morsels as the kidneys, liver, and
other viscera, going on, after these have been
enjoyed, to the thighs and other “ meaty ”
portions of the beast. His capacity is large
and his appetite inordinate, and thus it is that
in lean times, when game is not plentiful, he
can abstain from food as long as, or perhaps
longer than, most animals in similar unhappy
case. But although doubtless keenly alive to
the superiority, if it be obtainable, of nice
juicy meat, he nevertheless adapts himself to
circumstances by taking advantage of any oppor-
tunity of obtaining a meal which may haply
present itself. Thus he has been known to sit
with his gigantic paw patiently poised for hours
at the hole of a field-rat, to devour fruit of
various forest trees, to fill his omnivorous

172 THE LION

stomach with locusts and with the veriest offal
of any kind, and, as a friend of mine informed
me, to appease the pangs of an unpleasant
vacuum with the malodorous flannel shirt of
a long-unwashed native. There are authentic
stories to the effect that he does not, in certain
circumstances, hesitate at even cannibalism, if no
other means present themselves of satisfying the
pangs of hunger. It may be taken, therefore,
that there is probably no known variety of
beast which displays a more surprising catholicity
of taste.

The female produces two or three cubs at a
birth, and these remain with the parents until,
on the arrival of their second teeth,—at the age
of about two years,—they proceed to hunt for
themselves. By this time they are very nearly
full grown, and have been duly and carefully
instructed by the parent animals in all the arts
of their bloodthirsty craft. During early in-
fancy they are carefully fed by the mother until
old enough to accompany the older animals on
their periodical forays, when, it is said, the latter
encourage them to make the attack, and stand
by to see it properly delivered. There can be
little doubt, however, that the family remains
intact until the young beasts are almost mature.
In Cheringoma, a few years ago, I surprised five
lions on one occasion which appeared to me at
first to be of equal size ; but on careful examina-
tion with powerful glasses I satisfied myself
that three of the animals were quite young, the
manes of two being scarcely perceptible. I was

THE LION 178

so fortunate on this occasion as to secure both
the parent beasts. It is said, and I suppose
with good reason, that of the considerable
numbers of cubs annually born but few live to
reach maturity, the remainder falling victims to
a variety of infantile ailments. Here is a dis-
pensation of kindly Nature with which I fancy
few indeed will quarrel, for one’s mind loses
itself in a wide field of harrowing conjecture as
to what the aspect of the country would have
been if, since the earliest days of this animal’s
arrival from Asia, their young had invariably
survived.

Contrary to general supposition, which has
probably arisen from the stories told of the
Indian tiger, the African man-eater is by no means
necessarily an aged or worn-out beast. Many
instances are recorded of this habit being con-
tracted by young and vigorous animals. I
remember, whilst passing through East Luabo
on one occasion, being surprised by the number
of deserted villages through which we passed at
a point near the southern boundary of that large
district. I was informed that the people had
abandoned them owing to the depredations of
lions, and that they all appeared to be man-
eaters. I devoted two days and two nights to
‘hunting this region, and although I heard them
nightly, and twice they broke in the bush in
front of me, I did not actually see one on this
occasion.

When a lion attacks a native village, he usually
does so by night, when these animals are far

174 THE LION

bolder than they are by day. In most cases he
leaps upon the roof, and in a surprisingly short
time claws a way through the thatch, which he
scatters in all directions. It seems amazing to
us that during this performance the inmates
should not have time to make good their escape
by the door; but the African is a heavy sleeper,
and I suppose his first intimation of the dreaded
creature’s visit is to find himself dragged forth in
its jaws. I have more than once seen the holes
made by lions in the act of entering by the roof
of a hut, and it affords striking evidence of the
enormous power with which these animals are
endowed. On other occasions the wall of the
hut is broken in by one or two tremendous blows,
but in practically every case the unfortunate
native seems to be either too paralysed with fear
or too sound asleep to become conscious in time
to prevent the catastrophe.

When charging as the result of a wound or
of some act of provocation, a lion will often kill
his human aggressor by a tremendous blow of the
forepaw, the claws of which have been known
completely to pierce the skull ; but when hunting
human prey, be it on the native path or elsewhere,
it is the usual practice to seize the victim and carry
him off alive, a circumstance to which not a few
persons owe their lives. I remember when I was
living in Nyasaland some years ago, two Euro-
peans were hunting in a portion of the country
somewhat infested by lions, when, in the middle
of the night, one of these animals entered the grass
shelter in which they were sleeping, seized one by

THE LION 175

the hip, and coolly took him away. The unfor-
tunate man actually awoke to find himself being
carried bodily off. His cries quickly awakened
his companion, who rushed out with a magazine
rifle and fired rapidly in the direction from which
the sounds came. The startled lion dropped his
intended victim and decamped. I saw this man
after his discharge from hospital, where he spent
many weeks. He was quite recovered, but severe
injury to the hip bone rendered him extremely,
and I fear permanently, lame. In another case a
lion entered the tent of a friend of mine, who,
being fortunately a light sleeper, awoke before the
beast had time to do him any injury. With
great presence of mind, he slipped out of his camp
bed on the side nearest the tent wall, whence his
loud shouts were successful in scaring the lion
away. The ghastly story of the midnight marau-
der which entered a railway compartment on the
Uganda Railway and took out one of three hunters
who had actually come out in pursuit of it is too
well known to need repetition; but perhaps suffi-
cient has been said to show conclusively that the
old supposition that lions but rarely enter a tent
or other shelter is entirely erroneous, and that
in parts of the country wherein they are numerous
travellers should invariably take means, by the
erection of a thorn zareba or fence of some kind,
to secure their safety and those of their native
followers. I think that all experienced hunters
and observers are agreed that dark, rainy nights
are those on which lions appear to lose all dread
of man, and when their boldest and most fatal

176 THE LION

exploits are planned and executed. In clear
moonlight they are by no means so dangerous,
and will often take to their heels with the same
celerity as usually characterises their retreat if
encountered in broad daylight. Misogynists will
learn with bitter satisfaction that on nearly all
their predatory excursions it is the female who
does not only most of the hunting, but is usually
the first aggressor; and certainly in my experience
of these animals it is to her that I have owed
most of my moments of embarrassment. When
she has cubs to defend, the lioness is exceptionally,
almost recklessly, savage ; but on these occasions
her manifestations of anger are perhaps more in
the nature of demonstrations intended to scare
off the unwelcome intruder, and, so far as I am
aware, but rarely result in much harm if a hasty
retreat be promptly beaten. But in daylight
cases of unprovoked attack on Europeans are
exceedingly few. In almost all cases his in-
stinctive fear of man is too strong for him, and
the lion, be he one or many, promptly takes to
flight. But what constitutes no little of the
danger of hunting these animals is the surprising
uncertainty of what line of conduct they will, at
a given moment, pursue. On some occasions, on
sustaining injury they will charge promptly and
viciously—especially the females; whilst on others
they will retreat into thick cover and make no
effort whatever to take vengeance upon their pur-
suers. I think there can be little doubt that as
lions vary in size, appearance, colour, and other
features, so also they vary in personal courage

THE LION 177

and pugnacious disposition. In these circum-
stances it seems to me most unsafe to generalise
upon a matter fraught with so much personal risk.
When, therefore, everything points to the proba-
bility of there being but little similarity between
the precise course of action which as a whole these
animals will follow, I find it preferable, and cer-
tainly safer, to look upon each lion encountered
as likely to be governed by his own personal views
of the situation, and to be carefully dealt with
according to the merits or otherwise of the attitude
he may assume.

Lion-hunting is a form of sport possessed of
fewer attractions than any I know. To hunt
these beasts by daylight, unless one should come
unexpectedly upon them or their fresh spoor and
follow it in favourable circumstances, is the most
exasperating and disappointing form of fruitless
toil to which the hunter of great game can possibly
condemn himself—unless, of course, he hunts with
dogs, a poor and unsportsmanlike amusement.
There is only one royal road to lion-shooting, and
that is to undertake it by night, or, in a word, to
“sit up” for them. We have all done it, I sup-
pose, and few of us there assuredly are who do not
look back with a grimace upon the miserable dis-
comfort, the cold cramped limbs, the nervous
tension, and finally, as the uneventful night ad-
vanced, upon the waning interest and the ir-
resistible desire to go to sleep. The most
promising circumstances in which to sit up for
lions is to do so over their own kill, if the hunter
should be lucky enough to discover it. At times,

178 THE LION

of course, success attends the bait of an animal’s
carcass shot and planted for the purpose; but it
is obvious that the chances are greatly in favour
of his coming to the feast of which he is already
aware rather than to one provided for him without
his knowledge. Opinion is divided as to the rela-
tive merits of a pit or a platform, but personally
I think there can be no question on this point.
The pit involves preparation which must present
to the returning lion the appearance of something
new and strange. In my experience, at any rate,
the disturbance of the smallest of the objects
surrounding a kill is enough to fill the lion with
misgiving, and cause him to forsake it even in
the complete absence of suspicion of another kind.
A platform or machan, as it is called, constructed
some 10 or 15 feet from the ground, not only
leaves things exactly as they were, but enables
the hunter’s scent to pass over tlie lion as he
approaches or lies up to the kill. In the old days
blue lights were usually provided for night shoot-
ing of this kind, but a contrivance shown to me
by Major Statham, who I believe elaborated it,
entirely outclassed the old-fashioned devices. It
consisted of a small electric lamp fitted with an
extremely powerful reflector secured to the front
of the hat-band by a hook or safety-pin. This was
connected by wires passing over the back of the
brim to a dry battery carried in the outside coat
pocket, and operated by a switch attached to a
convenient button-hole. This lamp throws a
powerful ray of brilliant white light above the
level of the eyes, which are thus in no way dazzled,

THE LION 179

whilst the ray follows every movement of the
head. On one occasion, by the aid of this minia-
ture search-light, Major Statham, shooting from a
machan, killed either three or four full-grown lions
in almost as many seconds.

Very different was the painful experience of a
gallant party of two who sat up—so the vouched-
for story goes—at Zomba in the Nyasaland
Protectorate some few years ago for a lion whose
depredations for many nights had caused con-
siderable annoyance and alarm. Recourse in
this case was had to the usually futile practice of
tying up a vociferous goat within easy range of
the tree-built platform upon which the hopeful
hunters ensconced themselves. It was a pleasant,
light night, illuminated by a fitful half-moon, and
after the first few hours of excited anticipation
the time lagged rather badly. I fancy the
watchers must have begun to doze; but be this as
it may, an unusually strident “‘ baa’”’ from the ill-
starred bait suddenly recalled them to conscious-
ness. They looked out from their sheltering
tree, and found themselves gazing upon the lion,
which, close behind the frantic goat, stood re-
garding it with an air of amused surprise. To-
gether the startled hunters fired—the good old-
fashioned black-powder rifles speaking as one. It
was a still night, and, as they prudently refrained
from an immediate descent, several moments
passed before the smoke cleared away. Then
they saw that which they never told, but which,
in spite of their secrecy, was soon yelled from
the house-tops. No mighty savage form lay there

180 THE LION

to gladden their eager eyes, but with one final
strangled “‘baa’’ the victim yielded up her
gentle spirit—they had shot the goat !

Personally I am not a lover of night work. I
find in my experience that after a long and
fatiguing day’s shooting, in the course of which
the hunter may have covered anything between
20 and 30 miles, it is extremely difficult to keep
awake while sitting up in a cramped position ;
and, added to this, the danger to health involved
thereby is out of all proportion to the measure of
usual success. But it must be confessed that to
those who desire to shoot the cunning and elusive
lion, it constitutes, I suppose, the only fairly
certain means whereby, with perseverance, good-
luck, and several other inestimable advantages of
a like kind, success may be attained.

Of course, although the opportunities of doing
so are on the whole very rare, an encounter
with lions by daylight can be undertaken with
much more certainty than when one is dependent
upon artificial light not only to shoot him by, but
also for the no less important and even exciting
incidents which at times follow the shot. Putting
aside this uncertainty, I think all lion-hunters are
agreed that if the beast be wounded, and the
range over 50 yards, he will retreat much oftener
than he will charge. Lions are, as a matter of
fact, very easy beasts to kill if the hunter be cool
and the rifle held straight; but a time will
assuredly come to everybody, even the coolest
and most capable, when, by an unforeseen hap-
pening of some sort, the little mistake will be

THE LION 181

made which makes all the difference between a
dead and a wounded beast. Should the lion then
come, nothing but sang-froid and straight shoot-
ing combined with great quickness will save the
hunter from grave injury at the very least. If, on
the other hand, he should bound into the jungle
with a roar of pain and rage, the greatest care
and caution must be exercised in his further pur-
suit. Lions have in such circumstances a most
remarkable and uncanny knackof concealing them-
selves behind a tiny cover which one would almost
think barely sufficient to shelter a rabbit. If
followed, they will often lie low until the hunter,
his eyes fixed upon the ground in search of blood-
spoor, which is nearly always very faint, ap-
proaches near. Then there is a hoarse grunt, a
lightning rush, and the great beast, open-mouthed
and claws shot out, is upon him without any more
warning. The man’s disadvantage will thus
readily be appreciated. There are, in such a case,
unhappily, very few who have survived to recount
their experiences, but, as I think my readers will
agree, it would be hard to imagine a more nerve-
shattering incident.

In the Quelimane district some few years ago,
a young German gentleman whom I knew had
such an experience as I have described. He was
a tall, powerful man, and had not had much, if
any, experience of lion-shooting. On the occasion
to which I am referring he was returning to his
camp one evening armed with a light magazine
rifle—a Mauser or Lee-Metford, if I mistake not
—when he espied a lioness in the act of emerging

13

182 THE LION

from a brake of dense bushes. He fired at her
at a distance of 60 or 70 yards, and must have
wounded her severely. The lioness with a hoarse
roar turned back and re-entered the cover, into
which, with great foolhardiness, the hunter im-
mediately followed. He does not appear to have
proceeded far on her spoor when, without any
warning beyond a succession of exasperated
grunts, the lioness charged. As he afterwards
expressed it, “‘ She seemed to come from nowhere,”’
and in a moment she had him by the shoulder,
her great claws lacerating his back. In this
terrible plight, thanks tohis great personal strength
and activity, he wrestled valiantly, kicking the
lioness in the stomach with his heavy boots, and
not only managed to maintain his perpendicular,
but, thanks to great length of arm and shortness
of rifle-barrel, he actually managed, by pulling
the trigger with his right thumb, to put another
bullet into his enraged assailant. She then released
her hold and left him. The young German was
luckily close to his camp, and though he was badly
clawed, the lioness, probably owing to age, had not
inflicted serious injury upon him with her teeth.
To the liberal and immediate use of permanganate
of potassium was doubtless due the rapid recovery
he made from the inevitable septic poisoning
resulting from the clawing he received, which
afforded eloquent testimony to his surprising
escape. Poor fellow, his respite was not a long
one, for the following year he met his death
beneath the knees of a wounded elephant.

I do not know whether Africans are sus-

THE LION 183

ceptible in the same way as Europeans to the
action of the poison with which the foul impurities
upon the lion’s claws saturate them, but I have
sometimes thought not. An old native friend of
mine, a headman in one of the villages in Machin-
jiri, was clawed in three cleanly cut seams from
shoulder to waist on one occasion as he made his
narrow escape with a wild rush from the spring of
an attacking man-eater. He told me that al-
though the long lacerations did not bleed much
at the time of their infliction, they nevertheless
healed up without any untoward symptoms such
as usually accompany a lion’s claw wounds.
Another case was that of a native in one of the
villages of Cheringoma. This man, whilst em-
ployed as a mail-runner between two adminis-
trative posts, was attacked by a lion one evening,
but managed, by presence of mind uncommon
enough in the black man, although badly clawed,
to escape with his life. The lion rushed upon him
from behind. With surprising resource he flung
his mail-bags at the animal’s head, and in the
momentary confusion fired at and no doubt
wounded it. In any case, the lion went off, leaving
his intended victim to hobble as best he could to
the nearest habitation. The injuries sustained,
which he was rather proud than otherwise of
exhibiting, took the form of severe and deep
lacerations on the hips and buttocks; but, he
informed me, in spite of their severity, he was
back at his work in little more than a month.
But I cannot conclude my remarks upon the
king of beasts without sending to the printer the

184 THE LION

following wild and beautiful legend of British
East Africa, which I believe has been told often
enough before in that favoured land, but which
may not yet have reached the ears of hunters out-
side it. On one occasion, in those good old days
when there was no railway or telegraph wire or
other annoying contrivance calculated to get in the
way of those persons whose one ambition it was
(and perhaps still is) to be a law unto themselves,
a considerable expedition of pack-donkeys on its
way up country was passing through a region
where lions were known to be numerous. After
the first night spent within this danger zone, the
donkeys were duly saddled and laden, and, once
on the way, it was most forcibly remarked by all
hands that, however drowsy their rate of pro-
gression might hitherto have been, nobody could
now complain of their slowness, since it took the
native and European attendants all their time
to keep up. But one donkey there was which
dawdled, and it was not until his arrival in camp
that, amid appalling commotion, the truth was at
last apparent. It seemed that the preceding night
a lurking lion had succeeded in getting among
the donkeys, with one of which he gorged himself
to such an extent that all desire to escape left him.
The following morning, as dawn drew nigh, he was
so inert, weighed down by the immense weight of
donkey which lay heavily upon him, that he
allowed himself in the darkness, and in mistake
for the deceased animal, to be laden with the
others and hurried along after them. The record
march which resulted was thus due to his scent,

THE LION—THE LEOPARD 185

which, every time he drew near to the flagging
leading files, inspired them with their astonishing
and unaccountable energy. I have never been
able satisfactorily to ascertain what became of
the lion, and it has always seemed to me that
neglect to place on record his ultimate fate was a
most serious and lamentable omission.

Although lions are slowly tending to grow more
and more difficult of access—falling back gradu-
ally, as it were, before the slow advance of the tide
of civilisation—I suppose many years must never-
theless necessarily elapse before they will be
driven to take refuge in the solitary forest fast-
nesses to the north of the Zambezi already in-
habited by so many of their race. South Africa
has gradually pushed them back to the farther
banks of the Orange River, but beyond that—
their southern limit, so to speak—there are few
centres outside the larger and more populous
cities where a marauding visitation of lions might
not take place. The great distances they are
accustomed to travel, the readiness with which,
without any pressure, they take to the water, and
their great wariness and intelligence—all these
qualities and several others are of a character
calculated greatly to militate against any prospect
of their early extinction.

The “ Grey Cat” of scientists, or the Leop-
ard, as he is known to persons intelligently
interested in African zoology, is by no means
confined to Africa. In North and South
America, with slight differences of appearance, he
is known as the Puma or Jaguar; in Ceylon and

186 THE LEOPARD

India he is the Panther, in addition to being
known by his own name; whilst, with that fine
independent disregard of accuracy which is so
striking a characteristic of that country, he is
known throughout South Africa as the “ Tiger.”
But the leopard of Zambezia, identical in type,
size, and colouring with those found all Africa over,
is a handsome beast whose skin is usually one of
the first to ornament the premises of the new-
comet, probably never destined, even after years
of residence or wandering, to behold him in the
flesh. Africa does not contain in all its length
and breadth a more cunning, silent, or elusive
animal, nor yet one with greater powers of des-
truction, to which so frequently he gives full
rein, as the leopard. Hidden during the day in
thick cover, in rocky, tree-clad ravines, or in the
shady retreat afforded by the gigantic limbs of
some vast lliana-covered forest tree, the leopard
waits thus efficiently concealed until the shades
of night send him faring forth to the game-path,
the water-hole, or the hen-roost. Wholly noc-
turnal by habit, there is probably no rarer
African experience than to encounter his beautiful,
lithe, graceful form abroad in the daylight hours.
At early dawn he quits his kill and drinks at some
neighbouring water, and it will be well under-
stood that, as most of his ambushes are near by
the drinking-places of the game beasts, he has not
far to go to quench his thirst.

The Zambezian leopard is the incarnation of
sinuous, feline stealth—a beautiful cat, in a word,
weighing about 100 to 120 lbs. and between

THE LEOPARD 187

6 and 7 feet from nose to tail-end. What he
lacks in impressiveness, as the lion’s near relation,
he gains in beauty of colour and markings. Seen
in the early morning, he crosses your range of
vision like a swift, vellowish flash; but if your
shot should have been successful, you find that the
pale creamy smudge which at a short distance he
resembled resolves itself, on nearer approach, into
a delicately coloured coat spotted—or, to be more
precise, rosetted—in black uponapale. softly furred,
sulphur-coloured ground, growing white under the
belly and on the thighs, fore-arms, and throat.
Near the dorsal line the spots or rosettes are much
more numerous than on the flanks, and the colour
of the skin is generally darker, and richer in its
suggestions of yellow. The leopard’s head is
rounded, somewhat heavy for the size of the
body, and the ears slightly pointed. The tail is
usually thick, full, and beautifully and softly
furred.

I wish it to be understood that the foregoing
passage more or less correctly describes the low-
country leopard, found—with luck—upon the
banks of the Zambezi. In the higher elevations
the same animal exists, but possessed of a much
thicker, finer, and softer coat. So much is this
the case that several attempts have been made,
I understand, because he wears a slightly heavier
suit of clothes than his brother of the heated
plain, to give him a separate scientific designa-
tion, and add one more to the number of local
varieties into which this animal has been so
foolishly and unnecessarily divided.

188 THE LEOPARD

The habits of the leopard are not unlike those
of his relative the lion, except that he rarely, so
far as I am aware, becomes an habitual man-
eater, and is not given to attacking human beings
unless wounded or otherwise provoked. Once
brought to bay, however, he is a most dangerous
animal, and will charge his assailant with the
utmost courage and resolution frequently in cases
where the lion would retire. His wonderful
quickness, tremendous energy, and extraordinary
bodily strength combine to make his attack far
more feared than is that of the lion, and I consider
it probable that, in a given number, more fatal
mishaps have resulted from the charge of the
leopard than from that of the larger beast.

Nothing can exceed his cool, calculated ac-
ceptance of risks such as few others of the carni-
vora would take. Thus in Central Africa, in the
early morning, I have frequently seen the spoor of
leopards on the garden paths all round my small
bungalow, and have even traced them upon the
planking of the lower verandas. Small dogs, in
country where these animals are numerous, should
never be allowed to wander about after sunset.
So noiseless is the prowling leopard’s attack, and
so rapid and business-like his subsequent proceed-
ings, that frequently the life of the unfortunate
terrier is choked from it before the victim has
even time to utter a parting yelp.

More than once has every inmate of my goat-
houses and fowl-runs been savagely and ruthlessly
destroyed. In these cases a blind, furious lust
for slaughter seems to take possession of the in-

To five po 88,

LEOPARD,

THE LEOPARD 189

vader. On gaining admission, instead of helping
himself to the fattest or most tempting inmate,
he sets deliberately to work mercilessly to destroy
every single member of the family, nor does he
hold his murderous teeth and claws until his
victims lie at his feet in a lifeless heap. In natural
surroundings, however, he contents himself with
one victim at a time, which he secures by ambush-
ing a game-path or water-hole. Leopards have the
same weakness as lions for lapping the quickly
flowing blood of newly killed animals, and, as they
climb trees with cat-like ease and agility, they
avail themselves of the comparative security
afforded by the branches to deposit therein the
remainder of their kills at a good height from the
ground. On several occasions I have seen por-
tions of the bodies of reedbuck, duiker, and other
animals among the branches deposited by leop-
ards at the end of a meal, 15 or 18 feet from the
ground. These arboreal habits render the hunt-
ing of leopards, especially by “ sitting up” for
them, a matter of no small difficulty ; for whereas
terrestrial animals such as the lion are never im-
pelled by the presence of danger to look upward,
the leopard seems to realise the perils of the
machan as keenly as any other, and, in his stealthy,
silent approach, appears to advance with one cye
on the carcass and the other on the surrounding
branches.

They are usually solitary. Personally, I have
never seen more than one leopard at a time, al-
though pairs have not infrequently been met with.
They are also very silent beasts, giving vent at

190 THE LEOPARD

early dawn to a curious, throaty, coughing bray,
something like the immature effort of an insane
donkey. As a rule, the female gives birth to two
or three cubs, which when young make charming
pets, but as maturity is approached are better
deposited in some zoological collection. One of
these creatures was for some time an interesting
feature of the Consular premises when I was
serving many years ago in the Protectorate of
British Nyasaland, and had never exhibited the
smallest symptoms of ferocity until one day,
being approached by one of my staff, she attacked
him without warning, and his escape from
possibly serious injury could only be attributed
to the chain with which she was secured having
become entangled in the shafts of an adjacent
wheel-barrow.

Although assuredly but few of these animals
are shot, except perhaps in circumstances where
a raid on a poultry yard may have resulted in the
failure of the prowler to find his way out again,
nevertheless many are annually secured by the
natives in cleverly contrived traps of several
patterns. The most general in Zambezia con-
sists of a heavy log of wood supported at one end
and placed between two lines of closely driven,
strong stakes. A bait is arranged in such a
manner that at the moment of its disturbance
the support which holds the log up is pulled away,
and the heavy weight falls upon the leopard’s
back. Many are caught by this contrivance, and
by others which are but variations of it.

The bodily strength of the leopard is, in my

THE LEOPARD 191

opinion, greater in proportion than that of the
lion. In fact, it is amazing that so slightly built
a creature can perform such prodigies of strength.
Instances are not few of their having scaled at a
bound stockades 10 and 12 feet high, and retired
by the same way with a 40-lb. goat in their
mouths. As a man-eater, which, truth to tell,
the leopard but rarely becomes, he has an un-
pleasant and most effective habit of lying in wait
over a native path extended along some massive,
leafy tree-trunk, and dropping suddenly from
above upon his unfortunate victim. His teeth in
the poor wretch’s throat choke back the cry of
alarm with a pressure which is never relaxed until
death ensues, and it has thus not seldom hap-
pened that, owing to attacks by leopards, persons
and animals have disappeared with an uncanny,
noiseless suddenness which has done much to
increase the universal dread and detestation in
which these animals are held by the natives.

I shall close this description with a little story
which, although it cannot be regarded as adding
much to our knowledge of the life-history or
habits of leopards, would never have been related
but for the untimely exploit of one of them. It
has, moreover, the unusual merit of being in all
respects, with the exception of the names of its
chief actors, absolutely true.

One tranquil Sabbath afternoon many years
ago the small Nyasaland gunboat Halcyon was
lazily rising and falling at her moorings to the
glassy swell of the great African lake which has
given its name to that prosperous British colony.

192 THE LEOPARD

Almost everybody was ashore except the Royal
Naval Reserve Commander, a man of deeply
devout conviction and habit, who, devotional
book in hand, paced nervously backward and
forward, furtively eyeing with an expression of
the strongest disapproval the dilapidated copy
of a Princess’s Novelette which fluttered in the
hands of the elderly ex-naval quartermaster
seated on the fo’c’sle head. Time passed, and
that cheery, red-faced individual had almost
read to the last page of his rather unsabbatarian
print when his commander slowly and somewhat
uneasily approached him.

‘* Lovely evening, Watson,’’ he remarked.
‘“* Always seems to me one can tell Sundays from
other days; doesn’t it to you?”

‘“* Can’t say as ’ow it does, sir,” replied the old
salt, rather shortly, casting an apprehensive glance
at the book the officer still bore in his hands.

‘* Look here, Watson,”’ the latter resumed,
though manifestly not without an _ effort,
‘** wouldn’t you like to hear a chapter or two of
the 'Word read to-night ? Quite take you home
it would, wouldn’t it ? ”’

The old man changed his position uneasily,
reflected for a moment, and said, with great
conviction, ‘‘ Well, no, sir, thank you all the same.
The fact is, sir, I don’t ’old much with Scripture
readin’. It wouldn’t take me ’ome, not much it
wouldn’t ; and if it did, I don’t know as I should
be best pleased.”

‘* Ah, well, never mind, Watson,” said the
commander, stifling a sigh, “‘ perhaps a little later

THE LEOPARD—THE LYNX 198

you would like to join in a few words of prayer
instead ? ”

‘“* Mr. Sheepyard, sir,” said the old sailor, with
great emphasis, ‘‘ I’ve a great respect for the
*Igher Powers—always’ad, sir. They’re very good
to us and all that ’ere, and wot I says is leave ’em
alone. If you goes on a-prayin’ to ’em and a-
disturbin’ of em every day same as wot you do,
Mr. Sheepyard, you'll rouse ’em, that’s wot you'll
do, and then goodness knows wot’ll’appen. You
take my tip, sir, and leave ’em alone.”

The commander turned sadly upon his heel,
and shaking his head good-humouredly, slowly
gained his end of the ship.

But Watson will never be convinced to his
dying day that the spirit of prophecy was not
upon him as he spoke, for the very next morning
the ill-starred commander went ashore with a
shotgun, fell in with a leopard, and was so
severely clawed in the encounter that finally he
succumbed to his injuries.

The African Lynx occurs sparingly throughout
Zambezia, subsisting upon birds of all kinds and
small mammals.

He is a long-limbed, almost inelegantly built
creature, much smaller than the leopard, to
which he bears but a scanty resemblance. The
spotting of the lynxes is very sparse and faint,
but from the ears spring curious tufts of hair, by
which alone his species may readily be identified
apart from a somewhat dingy yellowish colour
scheme.

Lynxes are very rarely seen. They frequent

194 THE LYNX

the thickest of jungle during the daylight hours,
and are very wary and stealthy in their movements.
Perfectly at home in the branches of trees, where,
in the early summer season of the year, they must
create great havoc among the young birds of all
kinds still occupying the parent nests, they are,
nevertheless, most usually met with upon the
ground.

One of these animals provided my table with
a very excellent and welcome hare when I was
travelling through the Barué district in 1907.
The hare when discovered had only just been
killed, and beyond a rather badly lacerated throat,
which was still bleeding when my people recovered
it, and a few body scratches, appeared to have sus-
tained but little injury. As I had been living for
over a week on tinned provisions, varied by lean
antelope meat, the lynx’s involuntary contri-
bution was received almost with enthusiasm.

Lynxes are animals of but little interest from
any point of view except that of the scientist, and,
so far as I can see, but little if in any degree
redeemed from classification as vermin.

CHAPTER FX

CHEETAH : HYENA: JACKAL: HUNTING DOG:
SERVAL: CIVET : GENET : MUNGOOSE

CHEETAHS or Hunting Leopards are not very
numerous in the Zambezi valley, occurring per-
haps most plentifully between Muterara and the
Lupata Gorge, where reedbuck and other small
antelopes are common. I have also seen them in
the Mlanje district of Portuguese East Africa, in
the Barué to the south of Tete, and in the open
country south of the Shupanga Forest.

At first sight you think you are looking at an
ordinary leopard, but a moment’s reflection re-
moves this impression. The cheetah is not quite
so long or so sinuous, while at the same time he
is longer-legged and stands higher. He lacks the
rich coloration of the leopard, and instead of
being rosetted, his spots are spots, so to speak—
that is to say, they are simple round dots of deep
black. The cheetah possesses a small shapely
head, large luminous eyes, and a further pe-
culiarity, which distinguishes him from the ordin-
ary leopard, is a singular thickening of the coat at
the neck and shoulder, which gives him the ap-
pearance of wearing an undeveloped mane.

There is probably no member of the flesh-

eating families of African game which can develop
195

196 THE CHEETAH

and maintain such astounding speed as the
cheetah. Where the lion, leopard, and other cats
carefully drive their prey to an ambush, or stalk
it, or lie in wait overhead or in concealment, the
cheetah overtakes his game and kills by sheer
superiority of pace. His principal fare consists
as a rule of the smaller antelopes and the half-
grown young of some of the larger varieties, and
these, from the moment of alarm, he can run down
in every case. On coming alongside his fleeing
quarry, the cheetah usually endeavours to strike
it a terrible blow on the croup with his forepaw,
which, when going at full speed, frequently has the
effect of knocking the buck completely over,
whereupon the pursuer fixes his teeth in the wind-
pipe, and death ensues quickly from strangulation.
Should these tactics fail, however, the cheetah
launches himself with a tremendous spring upon
the fleeing antelope’s shoulder, and maintains his
position there, holding on with teeth and claws
until exhaustion brings both headlong to the
ground.

A very charming French gentleman who passed
some years vainly endeavouring to make a living
by agriculture in a somewhat remote portion of
the Mozambique Company’s territory, and finally
died there, informed me that once, in the great
slightly wooded plains to the east of Gorongoza, he
saw a cheetah run down and capture an immature
blue wildebeeste. From the account he gave me
of what took place, as witnessed by him from
beginning to end from the summit of a lofty ant-
hill, I remember that there was no evidence that

Missing Page

198 THE CHEETAH

fleetest among the many varieties upon which he
preys would seek to escape in vain.

I have only seen two or three of these animals,
which, although fairly numerous in some portions
of the country I have visited, are, it would
seem, but rarely encountered. I have sometimes
thought it possible that the infrequency with
which they have been reported may connect itself
with the probability of their having been mis-
taken for leopards. In any case, I have never
shot one, and the only specimen to come into my
possession did so in a singular and perhaps not
uninteresting manner. I had been shooting south
of the Inyamissengo branch of the Zambezi, and
was in the act of resting one day after many
hours of toilsome march in a portion of the district
which struck me as being particularly beautiful
and park-like—a fascinating alternation of thin
forest and plain in which the latter appeared
somewhat to predominate. Whilst thus occu-
pied, I saw a large eagle of, I believe, the crested
martial variety, which had been soaring not very
far over the adjacent tree-tops, make a determined
but unsuccessful swoop down at something on
the edge of the bush not very far away. This
manceuvre the bird repeated, then made another
attempt, which seemed equally fruitless. As
she came over me I shot her with a charge of
S.S.G. Down she came with a broken wing, and
as my people approached to recover her she got
upon her back and presented so menacing and
fierce an appearance, with her large hooked beak
and immense, powerful talons, that she had to be

THE CHEETAH—THE HYENA 199

dispatched with much circumspection and a
heavy stick. In the meantime, another of my
people who had gone off to investigate the cause of
her interest in the locality, returned in due time
bearing two delightful little cheetah cubs about
a fortnight old, which he had discovered in the
shelter afforded by a somewhat curiously formed
ant-bear hole. These, of course, were the secret
of the eagle’s repeated swooping; and from what
I know of the habits of these birds, I have never
been able to understand why she did not succeed
in carrying one of them off. One of these little
beasts became very tame, and was in my pos-
session until he had arrived at quite three-quarter
growth. During a somewhat prolonged absence,
in which I had to leave him in other hands, he was,
I fear, neglected, and one morning it was found
that he had made his way back to the bush, for
he was never seen again. Personally, I look upon
the cheetah as being a fine, bold, sporting type of
animal, and although he may lack a good deal of
the interest which is lavished—for inadequate
reasons, as I think—upon such better-known forms
as the lion and the leopard, I am far from sure
that he is not infinitely worthier of it, and that if
he were better known he would be much more
highly esteemed.

Zambezia possesses only one Hyena—namely,
the larger or spotted variety. It is the fashion, I
believe, to refer to the hyena in terms of op-
probrium and disgust, and to look upon him with
that virtuous loathing which is rightly felt for
anything of a furtive, underhand, treacherous, or

200 THE HYENA

unprincipled character, or for the convicted ac-
cessary after the fact. There is no sort of denying
that the hyena is all these things and many more;
but I must own that after many months, or it
may be years, spent in the midst of the unin-
teresting and unedifying life of East African coast
ports, one looks forward on returning to the wilds
to the first call at nightfall of this thieving prowler.
If one should be accompanied by a fellow-hunter,
a pleased nod is exchanged as the first siren-like
howl falls upon the ear, and with a smile of
satisfaction one or other ejaculates, “Good old
Fisi!’’! or words to that effect. The usual cry
of the spotted hyena—for he has at his command,
if he care to employ them, a weird and extensive
gamut of strange sounds—is so eerie, so mournful,
and yet so intensely reminiscent of the unfre-
quented African forest and plain, that few who
have once heard it there could be oblivious of
the pleasant sporting memories it must awaken.

The presence of the hyena, although not an
invariable, is a fairly good indication of the
presence of game. Not that he kills it himself as
a rule, although at times, when pressed by hunger,
he will even go so far as that; but on the whole
he prefers to let bolder animals provide the meal
for which he is quite willing to await his turn.
Still, in times of scarcity, there is little indeed
that comes amiss to the powerful jaws of the
spotted hyena.

I do not know to what other animal, if any,
the hyena of Zambezia can be compared —he

1 A Bantu word signifying hyena.

THE HYENA 201

stands so singularly apart in his odd ungainliness
from the other families of the flesh-eaters, partly
by reason of the general detestation in which he
is held, and partly by his extraordinary and, it
must be confessed, unlovely appearance. His
colour varies considerably, but is as a rule of a
dirty, yellowish grey, the body covered with
brownish spots. At the shoulder the spotted
hyena stands probably 3 feet high, sloping abruptly
down to the root of his short, skimpy tail. He thus
looks disproportionately heavy in the forepart
of his structure, an appearance which his massive
head goes far to accentuate. In length this
animal is probably between 5 and 6 feet; he is
thus a heavy, powerful beast, and personally I
am far from sharing the generally accepted sup-
position of his invariable cowardice. A curious
gland which appears beneath the anus gave rise
among the ancients to the quaint supposition that
the hyena was hermaphrodite.

I have for many years entertained, for what
appear to me to be good and sufficient reasons,
the belief that the spiritless timidity which these
animals are so well known to assume is a de-
liberately adopted pose. Valour to the hyena
would be of but little use, since his place in the
order of African events is that of the scavenger,
the cleaner-up—the individual, in a word, who does
the necessary tidying after the confusion en-
gendered by the feasts of the larger flesh-eaters.
He need thus only wait for his opportunity, and
is singularly well equipped to bear with equa-
nimity the painful vacuum of which Nature is said

202 THE HYENA

to have such a horror. Still, he does not always
do so, as the following incident will show. In
September 1904, I was proceeding through an
out-of-the-way portion of Portuguese East Africa
on an official tour when, early in the morning,
which was cloudy and dull, a reedbuck closely
pursued by a hyena dashed across the path we
were following, and was pulled down about half
a mile farther on. Some of my people said that
there were two hyenas in pursuit of the buck, but
I only saw one; in any event, we promptly took
up the spoor and came up in about twenty
minutes to the buck newly killed. It had already
suffered some slight damage from the hyena’s
teeth, but the brute slunk away as we approached,
so we were unable to get ashot athim. We were,
however, very glad of the reedbuck meat, of which
we promptly took possession. We found, on
examination, that one of her legs was injured, a
circumstance which may have tempted the hyena
out of his usual custom in giving chase to her.
In some of the larger Zambezian settlements
hyenas are very numerous at night; here on
occasion they can be seen slinking about in the
shadows in their search for garbage and offal of
all kinds. Stories are told of their snatching
goats, kids, lambs, and even young children at
times almost from within the shelter of the huts,
and instances are numerous of their having badly
bitten sleeping natives and others benighted by
the wayside, tearing from them substantial pieces
of flesh. One native woman whom I have seen at
Vicente presented an appalling spectacle as the

THE HYENA 203

result of such an attack, the whole of the lower
portion of her face, including the jaw, having
been torn from her whilst she slept.

Encamped in hyena-infested portions of the
country, I have frequently been disturbed early
in the night by a chorus of yells from my followers,
accompanied by a volley of burning brands from
the fire, discharged at some prowling form dis-
covered lurking with lawless intent in the vicinity
of the carriers’ quarters. If shooting have been
in progress, and the camp one of several days’
standing, the greatest care and pains must be
taken to see that all skins, heads, masks, and
meat are deposited at nightfall high up a tree to
keep it out of danger of these lurking pests, to
which scarcely anything that has been in contact
with animal matter is unwelcome. Even articles
of thick tanned leather are readily masticated,
as the disappearance, on one occasion, of a solidly
made binocular case, which had been carelessly
left under my tent-fly, taught me. A friend of
mine who was hunting with ponies some years
ago in similar country to that described in this
paragraph lost a pair of leather saddle-bags in the
same way, and was obliged to shoot one of his
mounts through the poor beast sustaining fatal
injury from the teeth of ahyena. Ordinary thick
antelope bones are masticated and swallowed with
the ease with which mankind disposes of a bis-
cuit : it has even been said, so tremendous is the
strength of their capacious jaws, that they have
been known to crush the thigh-bone of an elephant
to get at the marrow within. Here is a feat which

204 THE HYENA

I should regard as little if at all easier than the
fracture of a steel telegraph pole. In any case,
I have known this animal bite in two the largest
bone a buffalo contains, namely, that of the thigh,
the whole of which, ends and all, it swallowed in
the course of its meal.

Hyenas may often be seen late in the evening
as they leave their lairs in search of food. They
are lonely beasts, and, although many may
congregate at a kill, or at some well-accustomed
centre where food is known to occur, they do not
belong to anything in the nature of a family or
other assemblage. At break of day, therefore,
each one will take his solitary way back to his
daily hiding-place. The females produce two or
three whelps at a time, which are said to be
supported during their later period of helplessness
by the food which their mother, on arrival in the
morning from some over-night feast, purposely
vomits for their benefit.

In native folk-lore, and stories relative to
witch-craft, the greatest faith is felt for cases in
which persons accused of the detested offences
falling within this category receive the power to
transform themselves into hyenas and disinter
and devour, whilst so disguised, the bodies of the
newly buried dead. This, of course, arises from
occasional acts of the most degraded cannibalism,
of which, as a form of madness, I am satisfied that
at times certain natives are unquestionably guilty.
Indeed, years ago, when I was vested with certain
magisterial powers, I ascertained, from the details
of the evidence of cases which came before me,

THE HYENA 205

that this appalling custom beyond all doubt still
survived. It is implicitly believed among certain
tribes whose country borders the Zambezi that
these corpse-devouring wizards hold periodical
meetings or sabbaths, when they associate
together in the forms of hyenas assumed for the
purpose ; it is further believed that they can, if
they should so desire, render themselves invisible.
The act of disinterment is said to be effected by
the issue of a summons to the dead man couched
in the form of an incantation, and in language
known to and used by the wizards only whilst
appearing in animal form. This summons the
newly sepulchred dead cannot resist. The corpse
is compelled, conjured by the name of childhood
before puberty,’ to leave its tomb and appear at
the dreadful trysting-place, whereupon the as-
sembled hyena-men fall upon and devour it,
whilst night-jars and the great eagle-owl watch
without. These superstitions are implicitly
believed over a great portion of the Zambezi
valley, and it will therefore be readily imagined
that to native ears the curious, uncanny bass-
falsetto howl of the questing hyena is a sound
pregnant with awful significance.

The only occasion upon which I fancy one of
these animals had any design upon my tent was
one night in the Barué where I made a long and
deeply interesting journey in 1907. Sleeping as
I almost invariably do with my tent door open,
and a heavy service revolver upon the ground

1 At puberty Zambezian natives receive a new name which
they bear throughout life.

206 THE HYENA—THE JACKAL

beside me, I awoke at some time in the night, and
after a pull at my water-bottle, found my attention
drawn to two large and very luminous eyes ap-
parently gazing into the tent from a distance of
some 10 or 12 feet from the door. I fired promptly,
and missed the beast, which I ascertained by the
foot-marks the following morning to have been a
large hyena. No sooner had I made the dis-
covery than I also found that a fine sable antelope
head which had been carelessly placed in an
adjacent tree overnight had fallen and been taken
doubtless by my reconnoitring friend. Its re-
mains were discovered during the day with little
but the horns left whereby to identify it.

The Side-striped Jackal is heard nightly
throughout the Zambezi valley, and although
there is no reason why the smaller black-backed
variety should not occur, I have nevertheless
neither seen nor heard of him. I have possessed
two or three of these small animals, which have
grown extraordinarily tame when reared from a
tender age. One of these, curiously enough,
became apparently greatly attached to a fox-
terrier which belonged to me years ago at Queli-
mane, and this oddly assorted couple would ac-
company each other all over the Consular premises.
The tame jackal is a not ungentle creature of
various shades of reddish brown, possessed of a
bushy, white-tipped tail, and is generally of a
somewhat foxy appearance. His distinctive
name is derived from the black and white stripes
which run laterally along the flanks, and are much
more distinct in some animals than in others.

THE JACKAL 207

The jackal in the wild state is often a de-
graded animal, subsisting upon the refuse in search
of which he is a nightly intruder into villages and
small towns, consorting, at a respectful distance,
with hyenas and, after a kill and at a still more
respectful distance, with even the greater flesh-
eaters themselves. When thrown in the wilds
upon their own resources, jackals prey largely upon
game birds, their eggs and young, insects, in-
cluding locusts, of which they are extremely fond,
and all sorts of small and immature animals. To
persons possessed of a hen-roost, they are a serious
nuisance, fowls and eggs disappearing in a manner
as mysterious as exasperating. If they should be
caught inside the poultry-run or hen-house, jackals
turn very nasty, and one of my servants at Blan-
tyre, years ago, sustained a most unpleasant bite
from one of these animals. They are, of course,
nocturnal, and soon after sunset their curious,
plaintive cry of “‘ bwé-bwé”’ can be heard on all
sides as they issue forth from their lairs.

The old-fashioned story of the jackal being
found in constant attendance upon the lion is
certainly not borne out by the observations of
latter-day hunters and observers, who have found
the best of reasons for believing that in lean times
both the lion and the leopard are by no means
averse from a meal of jackal meat should no other
and more desirable means of sustenance present
itself. It is, of course, painful to be compelled
to remove illusions hallowed by the bright halo
of many years of firm belief, but it is a duty which
often presents itself in describing Africa, and many

208 THE HUNTING DOG

things besides the wild beasts which that astonish-
ing country contains.

Let us now consider for a while that abomina-
tion—that blot upon the many interesting wild
things for which Zambezia provides a home—the
murderous Hunting Dog. Twice only have I seen
these animals, and on the second occasion, in
the middle of the little-frequented Barué region
in 1907, I frankly thought for a moment that I
was not safe from them. I was marching one
afternoon through the high, forested tableland,
of which so much of this beautiful district con-
sists, when I came right upon about sixteen hunt-
ing dogs which had been lying asleep probably
after one of their unholy feasts. I suddenly be-
came aware of a chorus of curious sounds, barks
yet not barks, as the pack leaped to its feet and
stood for a moment regarding me. It seemed
at the first glance that I was face to face with a
nightmare pack of large, powerful hounds between
2 and 8 feet high, their bodies blotched all over
black, white, and reddish brown, and there for
several seconds we stood regarding each other.
My gun-bearers were clearly alarmed, and I don’t
think it would have taken much in the way of a
demonstration on the part of the dogs to have
sent them shinning up the nearest tree. How-
ever, I reached for my double ‘303, and as they
unwillingly turned to go, I shot one old dog and
severely wounded a second. This hastened their
pace for a while, but after covering about 80 or
100 yards they all stopped, and, much to my
astonishment, turned in their tracks for another

To face p. 208.
aoe HUNTING DOG.

THE HUNTING DOG 209

look at me, some of the rearmost animals balancing
themselves on their hind legs to get a better view.
My startled dusky companions, evidently the
victims of their fears, now protested that they
were upon the point of returning to attack us, so
I gave them two more barrels, which I know did
some, though I never knew how much, damage, as
on this they went off. The dog I shot on this occa-
sion was a large and, judging by his teeth and other
indications, somewhat elderly beast. He was, how-
ever, a fine sturdy animal weighing, so far as
I could judge, not less than 60 or 70 Ibs. Not
unlike a small hyena in structure, his shoulder
height fell away to the tail, the head being broad
and disproportionately short.

As I have stated, the demeanour of these
animals was very bold; they seemed, indeed, in
nowise inclined to give ground, but I suppose this
was due to the fact that in such a remote portion
of the country they were unused to human in-
trusion and practically undisturbed—certainly
their behaviour was quite unlike that of another
pack which I met some time before in Shupanga
Forest. These, consisting of ten or a dozen indi-
viduals, took instantly to flight, not even giving
me sufficient time to get in a shot at them.
Although they are commonly slow to retreat
before man, I have never yet heard of human
beings suffering attack by these animals, which,
if this were their habit, would probably become
a more serious and formidable scourge than any
of the existing man-eating species. Woe would
indeed betide the solitary forest wayfarer who

210 THE HUNTING DOG

should form the object of pursuit of these
heavy, powerful creatures, whose method is one
from which escape, except by means of a pro-
videntially placed tree, would be absolutely im-
possible.

There are few, if any, influences capable of
ridding wide areas of their game beasts with the
astonishing rapidity of the hunting dog. He is
practically tireless, extremely speedy, possesses
an appalling appetite, and eats nothing but
freshly killed meat. Herein lie the chief thorns of
the scourge he is. Almost if not all the antelopes
fall victims to him, and it is generally admitted
that from the moment the pack lay themselves out
on the spoor of a coveted animal its fate is sealed.
It is believed that the only families, apart from
the lion, more or less exempt from the hunting
dog’s attack are those of the buffalo and zebra.
Leopards take to the trees on their approach
without any unnecessary waste of time, and it is
probable that even the lion would hardly be spared
if he were found to possess any bodily infirmity
calculated to impair his powers of defence. Their
method of hunting, moreover, is one which renders
them practically irresistible. It should be re-
membered that the average African game beast,
though speedy over short distances, is not ac-
customed, in the ordinary course of events, to keep
on his top pace for long periods of time. After
a burst of a few hundred yards at the outside he
will slacken down to a trot or a walk, and probably
stop and listen for the danger which has startled
him. On the great plains, as I myself have ex-

THE HUNTING DOG 211

perienced, by cantering quietly along after the
game ona serviceable pony, not pushing your beast
at all, it will be found that before any great dis-
tance has been covered, you are not very far
behind. These are precisely the tactics of the
hunting dog. After a while, as his distressed and
fleeing quarry grows breathless and exhausted,
the pack closes up, and then, in turn, its com-
ponent members make a dash forward, sprinting
up to the side of the wretched, panting antelope.
They now, one by one, leap up at the fleeing wild
thing, inflicting with their teeth the most ap-
palling wounds and gashes, and tearing out great
mouthfuls of flesh and entrails, until at length
agony, exhaustion, and loss of blood tell, and the
poor beast falls and is quickly disposed of. The
numbers of antelopes killed in a given time by
hunting dogs must be enormous, since their un-
tiringly active life renders necessary an immense
amount of animal food.

Hunting dogs travel immense distances, and
although quite systematic in their methods,
if here to-day may be 30 or 40 miles away to-
morrow, and thus it is that they are so seldom
seen twice in the same district except after the
lapse of some considerable time. Still their stay
is usually quite long enough to scatter and
demoralise the game over a wide area, and to so
shatter the nerves of the grass-eating animals as,
at times, to drive them forth and to change com-
pletely the aspect of a normally game-haunted
region.

Although I have never had an opportunity of

212 THE HUNTING DOG—THE SERVAL

trying such an experiment, it is nevertheless
stated on excellent authority that hunting dogs,
if captured young, grow extraordinarily tame.
Their young, which are believed to appear three
or four to the litter, are produced in regularly
constructed kennels, one of which I have seen.
These are hollowed out underground, an ant-bear
hole being selected for the beginning, and warmly
lined with grasses and leaves. The pups remain
several months in these retreats, their mothers
providing for their necessities in much the same
unlovely tashion as the mother hyena.

I suppose they have few enemies, except man,
capable of making any impression on their
numbers, which, from all accounts, though slowly,
tend gradually to diminish. It will be an excellent
day for African game and its preservation when
means can be devised to give practical effect
to some well-thought-out scheme for this un-
necessary creature’s complete extermination.

The chief remaining carnivorous families to
be enumerated are the servals, civets, genets, and
mungooses.

The Serval is another leopard-like animal to
some slight extent, spotted after a curious fashion,
the simple markings displaying a curious tendency
to run into one another, and almost, here and
there, to form stripes. He is, moreover, although
much smaller than the leopard in body, endowed
with longer legs and, proportionately, a much
shorter tail. The general colouring and appear-
ance of these animals are not unsuggestive of the
cheetah, whilst, on the other hand, the tufted

THE SERVAL 213

ears are strikingly characteristic and reminiscent
of the lynxes; but, apart from the evil reputation
which they share with others of the smaller cats
of being incurable hen-roost robbers, servals are,
nevertheless, bold and successful hunters, and
run down their prey in the same sporting manner
as that which distinguishes the methods of the
hunting leopard. Although essentially night
prowlers, I have nevertheless seen them in pur-
suit of guinea-fowls and francolin up to a late
hour of the morning. I have also seen them in
the branches of trees, which their cat-like claws
enable them to climb with great ease.

Sitting resting one day in the interior of
Quelimane district whilst the midday meal was
being prepared, my chair and table set out on a
widish road bordered by high grass and bushes,
and surrounded by a silent cohort of tired carriers,
a distressed and evidently injured guinea-fowl
suddenly rushed out of the grass cover, closely pur-
sued by a beautiful serval. They disclosed them-
selves at a distance of not more than 20 feet from
where we were all reposing. There was a pause
for a fraction of a second, and then the serval
made good his escape. Not so the guinea-fowl,
however, which was promptly run down by some
of the more active among my people, and soon
afterwards became my property by means of the
usual method of exchange. I do not know how
far my impressions formed from the momentary
glimpse which I caught of this animal justified
the estimate, but the serval I then saw—certainly
a larger animal than any I had up to that time

T5

214 THE SERVAL—THE CIVET

secured—was fully 4 feet in length, and had a
shoulder height of quite 3 feet.

Servals are very untractable animals. While
young they are pretty and interesting, and like
most wild creatures display no little appreciation
of care and kind treatment; but as they reach
maturity, the inborn savageness ot their dis-
position would appear to remove all grateful
recollections, and nothing whatsoever can now be
done except to place them under permanent
restraint.

Civets are also numerous. In colour of a
rather dull, tawny grey, sprinkled over with simple
spots, they are handsome little animals, and
when the mane of long black hairs which runs
down the dorsal line is erected in anger they
present quite a formidable appearance. Natives
prize their skins for purposes of an ornamental
character, but would seem, so far as I am aware,
to place no value at all upon the scent glands
tound at the base of the tail.

The habits of civets are strikingly similar to
those of the servals, except that I fancy they are
powerless to climb trees. At all events I have
never seen one in the branches, and doubt very
much if the character of their claws would enable
them to reach that elevation. The civet follows
the singular practice of resorting to the same
place day after day for the purpose of depositing
its dung, which may at times be seen in large piles
in the native paths nightly frequented by it in
pursuit of rats, mice, and other small animals and
insects.

THE CIVET 215

On one occasion I saw a small civet captured
and carried off bodily in the talons of a large eagle
of whose identity I was at the time uncertain, but
which must have been a crested martial eagle
similar to the one already mentioned in my re-
marks relative to the cheetah. The bird paid
not the smallest attention to my tent or to my
native carriers and others grouped about. I first
noticed it hovering in wide circles over the camp
well out of gun-shot. and some time afterwards
marked it down to the branches of a large feathery
albizzia tree not more than 150 vards away,
where the whitish hue of the breast feathers
rendered it rather a tempting mark for a small-
bore rifle bullet. I resisted the murderous im-
pulse, however, and was lazily watching the great
bird through my field-glasses when it suddenly
leaped from its perch and darted through the air
right past me to a piece of bare ground some little
distance in rear of the camp. What took place
there Iwas not able to see, but in a few seconds
the eagle rose from the ground bearing something
fairly bulky which still appeared slightly to writhe
in the powerful talons, and which I made out with
the aid of my glasses to be a small civet—indeed
the animal’s spots and tail rendered him un-
mistakable. It is very curious how oblivious of
their surroundings certain great birds of prey
become when they perceive good cheer at hand.
I have had several opportunities of observing this
peculiarity, which I will deal with in a later
chapter.

I possess rather an uncommon motor rug, which

216 THE BLOTCHED GENET

has frequently attracted the admiring attention
of friends, and is made of some sixty skins of the
Blotched Genet, another small and very pretty
cat found throughout the Mozambique Province.
It is said to be nearly related to the civets, but
has no glandular pouch for the perfume borne by
the latter, which was at one time a not unimportant
- article of commerce. The genets, or rather the
representatives of that attractive family found in
the district of Zambezia, are handsome little
beasts of a whitey-grey colour, their soft thick
coat covered with spots—or perhaps more cor-
cectly blotches—of a bright umber brown. They
grow very tame and make charming pets, al-
though, curiously enough, one rarely sees them ina
state of domestication.

As a rule blotched genets are wood-dwellers,
making their squirrel-like homes in holes in the
trunks and branches of great forest trees. They
follow a mode of life, however, which bears no
resemblance to that of the harmless squirrel,
being, I believe, exclusively carnivorous, and
causing considerable havoc among game birds,
to say nothing of the poultry and eggs of the
remotely established farmer.

There are several other small cats scattered
about the Province, whose skins are usually
obtained by trapping. I have, therefore, found
it advantageous and most interesting to provide
when travelling in the interior two or three strong
steel traps. These, set with a little meat and laid
at the sides of the native paths, a couple of
hundred yards or so from the camp, have not

WILD CAT.

THE MUNGOOSE 217

seldom yielded a good return in skins of various
small beasts which otherwise one would seldom
or never see.

I believe there are altogether in the Portu-
guese East African Province some four or five
different varieties of the Mungoose.. It is an
interesting, amusing, and useful little beast, and
the families mentioned comprise the slender,
grizzled, banded, white-tailed, and Meller’s.

These small creatures are frequently tamed,
even by the natives, and are possessed of the
appreciable quality of ridding one’s abode of
cockroaches, snakes, and many other disagreeable
forms of life so common to dwellers in tropical
Africa. Whilst some of the varieties of mun-
goose—notably the slender—are more or less
solitary in their habits, others are happily
gregarious, and their cheery, bustling family
parties may often be seen in the forest hurrying
to and fro in search of food, and uttering their
curious bird-like chirp which in Zanzibar has
obtained for them the native name of “‘ M’chiru,”’
which strongly resembles it.

I have possessed many of these animals,
which become so tame that they will dwell in
one’s pocket or camp up one’s sleeve, poking out
with disconcerting suddenness from time to time
an inquisitive, beady-eyed little head. They
devour white ants, centipedes, and scorpions,
whilst locusts have no more deadly enemy, and
snakes are said to pay a heavy toll. I do not
think any animal of my acquaintance is endowed
with such vast, such unconquerable inquisitive-

218 THE MUNGOOSE

ness as the mungoose. It pries into everything,
sometimes with disastrous results. As an in-
stance of this, I was travelling on one occasion
between Zanzibar and Mozambique, and one of my
lady fellow-passengers had purchased a tame mun-
goose at the former place. It used to run about
the decks and poke its curious little nose wherever
it could. One hot afternoon—it happened to be
on a day which its mistress had selected for the
display of quite her loveliest and most expensive
costume—the mungoose discovered that by care-
fuly choosing its time it could run in and out
of the steering-chain pipes which skirted the
deck, and which are necessarily about half an
inch thick in the blackest and most forbidding of
engine oils—but I need not continue the narration
further, nor harrow the feelings of my lady
readers. I will only add that, as the result of
the painful sequel, this particular mungoose
mysteriously disappeared, and was seen no more
on board.

The mungoose—whatever may be this animal’s
correct plural designation—is extremely fond of
eggs, and therefore a sad source of tribulation
unless it can be kept out of the poultry run, and
few poultry runs there assuredly are capable of
excluding such a weasel-shaped, sinuous busy-
body.

Its appearance is so well known as to render
a description in detail almost unnecessary, but
for those who have not yet made this animal’s
acquaintance it may be described as a somewhat
stoat-shaped creature of a pale brown colour,

THE MUNGOOSE 219

possessed of a long, hairy tail, short legs, and
abbreviated, inquisitive-looking ears. They vary
somewhat in size according to family, but
15 inches might perhaps prove a fair average
length. The coat, which is somewhat long, is
rather harsh and bristly, banded or striped as the
case may be; but taken altogether the mun-
goose impresses one first of all by his air of im-
perturbable good humour, and, secondly, by his
unceasing restlessness. I feel sure they do a great
deal of good in their perpetual warfare against
vermin, and regard them as quite as important
an adjunct to the African dwelling-house as the
domestic cat to that of more temperate climes, if
not more so. The latter either grows plethoric,
and disinclined to exertion, as the result of repose
and over-feeding, or else, smitten with a longing
for adventure not usually associated with his
eminently respectable appearance, he makes ex-
cursions into the bush of longer and longer
duration until at length he throws in his lot
altogether with uncivilised brethren, and _ his
home knows him no more.

CHAPTER X

THE PIGS: PORCUPINE: ANT-BEAR: HONEY
BADGER: OTTERS: HARES: ROCK RABBIT:
GIANT RAT: SCALY ANT-EATER

Tue two wild pigs which make their home on the
banks of the River Zambezi are the same in all
respects as those found throughout South and
East Central Africa, namely, the large, dis-
proportionately-headed, warthog, and the com-
paratively gaily-marked, guinea-pig-like bushpig
of the somewhat higher elevations.

Warthogs are almost invariably found in
families, and have an extremely happy, easy-
going faculty which enables them to make them-
selves quite at home in practically any part of
the country, high or low, forest or plain. They
are most entertaining animals to watch, and, if
proper caution be exercised, are usually far too
much engrossed in the preoccupations of the
moment to mark the presence of a hostile in-
fluence. In the cultivated areas, especially where
roots are grown and ground-nuts planted, wart-
hogs are a terrible pest. They will travel daily
from their sleeping-places and cover many miles
to reach some well-known garden, where they
plough up the ground and create amazing havoc.
They love especially loose, sandy, friable soil,

“OOH.LUV AY

06% "ff anf OL,

THE WARTHOG 221

wherein they root with their snouts for tubers
and other subterranean food, but I have quite as
often found them in marshy swamps, apparently
equally contented with these damp surroundings,
which enable them to take a daily mud-bath, of
which ‘they are passionately fond. As noon
approaches, if undisturbed and well fed, they will
make for some conveniently situated sand-pit,
either shaded or unshaded, where they will roll,
afterwards resting until the cool of the evening.
On several occasions I have come upon large
families lying fully extended, or with legs in the
air, in the surroundings described, exposed to the
full force of the sun’s rays. In the late afternoon
they seek for food again, and drink shortly before
sunset.

In appearance the warthog, as will be seen
from the accompanying illustration, is almost the
last word of picturesque ugliness. I do not know
what a well-grown boar may weigh, but consider
it probable that when cleaned he may turn the
scale at 180 Ibs. The head, compared with the
rest of the body, is enormous, and much of its
curious uncouthness is due to the presence of the
four large warts to which it owes its name. Of
these disfiguring excrescences, the larger ones,
placed below the eyes, would almost seem to be
designed as a protection for those organs, a pur-
pose for which the two remaining warts, placed
slightly above the corners of the mouth, would
appear to be of little, if any, use. There is hardly
anything in the way of hair or bristles, especially
on the persons of the boars. Along the dorsal

222 THE WARTHOG

line runs a scraggy mane of long bristles which,
with the short, skimpy, tufted tail, is stiffly
erected in moments of excitement or alarm.
But, after his warts, the most singular character-
istic of this curious pig is his four large tusks.
The lower, or, as it is sometimes called, the cutting
tusk, is, of course, much the smaller of the two, the
best pair in my possession measuring just under
5 inches; but the upper tusks are so long and
heavy as to give him the appearance of wearing
defences which do not belong to him. These
often reach a measurement of 9 or 10 inches, and
at times, I believe, considerably more, and their
effect, viewed at close quarters, confers upon the
wearer somewhat of the appearance of some
misshapen, perky stage beast seen in a pantomime,
and wearing an immense ivory moustache sedu-
lously trained up at the ends as though by the
aid of a German Schnurrbart-binde.

Nothing could be more amusing than a family
of warthogs as, lying at their ease in a sand-pit or
mud-hole, they suddenly detect the presence of
danger. As I have stated, the party is a family
one, and may consist of one or both parents and
any number of piglings from three to eight or
ten, consisting, in the latter case, of two different
litters. At the first alarm, haste to gain their
feet is so great that a second or two passes before
this position is reached—a delay quite long
enough to entail serious consequences in the case
of attack by a leopard or other flesh-eating
prowler. After a moment spent in scrutinising
the surroundings, whilst they stand with mane

THE WARTHOG 223

and tail erected stiffly, Monsieur gives a short,
impatient grunt which is echoed by Madame,
when, unless they should now be reassured, they
trot quickly away in single file, led by the parents,
the members of the family following strictly in
order of primogeniture and, consequently, of size.

Adult warthogs, especially males, are very
tough beasts to kill, and at times make good their
escape after having sustained injuries which
would have brought most other animals promptly
to bag. If wounded and overtaken, they charge
with great quickness and courage, and, although
I never heard of a serious mishap, their tusks
enable them at times to inflict severe gashes.

On one occasion I had wounded a large boar in
East Luabo with which, after a long chase, I had
succeeded in coming up. He promptly turned
upon me and charged with a perfect cyclone of
shrill, excited grunts, and, on my avoiding him,
did the like to my gun-bearer. So quick and
pertinacious were his movements that several
seconds elapsed before I was enabled to get in a
second and final shot. On another occasion some
friends of mine in similar circumstances directed
one of their natives to run in and finish a warthog
with a spear, when the animal leaped to its feet
and inflicted upon his naked leg a gash which laid
it open to the bone.

The female possesses neither the size, length of
tusks, nor spirit of the male, except she have her
young at hand, when she becomes endowed with
the most reckless courage, and has been known, in
their defence, to charge and put to flight animals

224 THE WARTHOG—THE BUSHPIG

which in other circumstances she would not have
faced for a moment. The young commence to
follow the parents almost immediately after birth,
and whilst still quite small develop an activity
which renders their capture a matter of no small
difficulty. They grow extraordinarily tame, and
whilst young their ungainly antics and gambols are
most amusing.

Although possessed of but little fat, a leg of
warthog is a dish by no means to be despised, the
piglings furnishing one for which an epicure
would or should go far.

Bushpigs inhabit, for the most part, the higher
levels, although by no means uncommon on the
lower plains. I have used in connection with this
animal the comparison of the guinea-pig, and if
perhaps not quite an exact one, there is still to
my mind something of a resemblance. If, there-
fore, my reader should be prepared to give his
imagination a small modicum of rein, he might
picture to himself an immense, reddish-brown
guinea-pig marked with rather long yellow, grey
and white hair, and provided with quite a heavy
white collar. The head is by no means dis-
proportionate as in the case of the warthog, and
the tusks are insignificant.

Unlike the warthog, bushpigs feed chiefly by
night, and although they may occasionally be
seen grubbing for grass roots in the early morning,
they never abandon themselves in mud-holes and
sand-pits to the gaze of their enemies in the frank,
careless manner of the former. During the day
they retreat into thick bush, and do not leave

“SOT TES (VET

les Yang oy

THE BUSHPIG—THE PORCUPINE 225

their cover again until nightfall, when they
wreak terrible damage upon cultivated gardens,
especially those containing sweet potatoes, ground
nuts, and cassava.

Both these species of pig suffer much from the
attacks of lions and leopards, and there is no
doubt are a very favourite food for both these
cats.

I have already given my views upon the
excellence of the flesh of the warthog, but most of
those whose experience is similar to my own will
agree with me that, in comparison to that of the
tender succulent bushpig, it is, without question,
as water unto wine.

I am informed that some few years ago a new
form of bushpig was suddenly identified and
named after its doubtless gratified discoverer, as
the difference between this interesting animal
and the previously known form was regarded
as of immense importance. I may, of course,
have been misinformed, but I fancy it con-
sisted principally in the proud possession of
a hollow incisor tooth; but whatever it may
have been it was looked upon at the time as a
discovery far transcending Mr. Pickwick’s long-
debated theory of tittlebats, and requiring much
special knowledge for its adequate comprehen-
sion.

As the wayfarer trudges along the Zambezian
native path, he will not infrequently stoop to
pick up, as souvenirs of his journey through the
country, quite good-sized porcupine quills; but
unless he be endowed with more than the average

226 THE PORCUPINE

measure of good fortune, these will be the only
indications of this interesting animal that he will
see. Porcupines occur sparingly all over the
country, and are, to the extent of their limited
capacity, rather a nuisance in the damage they
cause to native pumpkins, sweet potatoes, and
other produce.

The porcupine is a solitary type which passes
the daylight hours in ant-bear holes, in hollow
tree-trunks, and in the shelter afforded by the in-
terior of a hospitable ant-heap. At night it steps
meditatively forth in search of provisions, and
takes its contemplative way along the deserted
native paths, its coming heralded by the ceaseless
rattling of its quills. To all intents and purposes
the porcupine is neither more nor less than a
glorified hedgehog, with the exception that where-
as the latter, even while rolled up into its familiar
ball, may be handled with care, the former has a
disagreeable habit of leaving its quills sticking
deeply in the flesh of the person or animal by
whom it is molested.

To no members of the game families is this
power more deadly than to the great flesh-eaters
who have passed the grand climacteric. There
comes a time when, owing to the lapse of the fast-
fleeting years, the lion and the leopard, finding
their usual prey becoming more and more difficult
to capture, are compelled to have recourse for a
living to forms which cost them a minimum of
effort to obtain. Foremost among these is the
porcupine, but he proves a terrible meal. His
quills are designed like the blades of certain

ON TALON OU

THE PORCUPINE 227

grasses and their seeds which, once having effected
a lodgment in the skin or the clothing, work their
way farther and farther in, aided thereto by
countless invisible but capable barbs. When,
therefore, the beast of prey who casts a longing
eye upon the easily captured porcupine retires
from his difficult and unsatisfactory feast, he
does so with his paws and lips full of quills
which defy all attempts at removal. After a time,
of course, inflammation is succeeded by sup-
puration, and not infrequently death from star-
vation ensues as the natural result of the wretched
beast’s inability from these causes to get about
and obtain a livelihood. I remember some years
ago at Quelimane a lion, in a state of the most
pitiable emaciation, was washed down the Qua-
Qua River, its fore-paws and lips containing a
number of porcupine’s quills which had effected
an immovable lodgment in the flesh. It was
evident that in a condition of great feebleness the
luckless beast had attempted, as lions often do, to
swim the river, and had been carried down on the
ebb and drowned.

Young porcupines are pretty little creatures,
and are covered with coarse bristly hair which
gradually stiffens into quills. They grow very
tame, and will eat bread and milk. During the
daylight hours they are lethargic, and disinclined
to make themselves agreeable, but submit to
being handled without any display of irritation
or annoyance. Lastly, but by no means least,
the flesh of the porcupine is exceedingly dainty.

Probably the most rarely encountered of all

228 THE ANT-BEAR

animals, either in Zambezia or anywhere else, is
that quaint creature whose yawning holes dot
the surface of the ground sometimes by the score ;
this is the Ant-bear. Mr. Tupman describes the
mid-Victorian arbour as a refuge which humane
men have erected for the accommodation of
spiders, but the future writer upon some of the
obscurer phases of African zoology will doubtless
refer to the ant-bear hole as a refuge for the
accommodation of all sorts of less innocent crea-
tures. Herein the hyena often spends the hours
of daylight; the hunting dog, after some time
spent in enlargement and renovation, here brings
forth its piratical brood; in ant-bear holes lurk
the smaller predatory forms, as well as snakes
and owls, and herein, should you be mounted
and riding with a slack rein, you may take a toss
that will be a lesson to you for some time to
come.

During the day ant-bears are never seen, but
at night, leaving their subterranean retreats, they
come up for a time to the earth’s surface, with
disastrous results occasionally from the teeth and
claws of the midnight prowlers.

I discovered one of these animals in Shupanga
in 1909, obviously the kill of a leopard, which I
must have disturbed soon after the fatal deed.
This was the first ant-bear I had ever seen and
I examined it with no small interest. It was a
clumsy-looking, short-limbed creature, provided
with lengthy digging claws, covered with thin hair
of a dirty reddish colour. A long, pig-snouted
face was crowned by donkey-like ears, which

THE ANT-BEAR—THE HONEY BADGER 229

gave to the deceased’s countenance a patient air
almost amounting to resignation. I suppose the
specimen I examined must have measured some-
thing over 3 feet in length, and weighed perhaps
70 or 80 lbs. I remember my carriers gleefully
despoiled the leopard of his kill, and devoured the
ant-bear themselves with every sign of the com-
pletest satisfaction.

This curious animal, which, in spite of the
rareness of its appearance, must be very numerous
in certain parts of the country where ants abound
—and it would be hard to mention a corner of
tropical Africa where they do not—nourishes itself,
it is believed, entirely upon these insects, which it
collects upon its long, sticky tongue. I have often
considered it a misfortune alike to mankind and
to the ant-bear that the latter’s incurably noc-
turnal habits should perhaps largely stand in the
way of his discovering and disposing of the enor-
mous armies of the terrible driver ant which may
so frequently be seen crossing the African path,
and which are so severely left alone there. If the
ant-bear should be impervious to the driver’s
powerful mandibles it is sad to think of the many
rich meals he must miss. However, it is possible,
and greatly to be hoped, that he may meet them
occasionally in the course of his midnight pere-
grinations, if such an encounter should result in
the destruction of these truly awful creatures.

Another interesting form occasionally met
with is the carelessly designated, so-called Honey
Badger. I refer to him as carelessly designated

because, although honey is a much appreciated
16

230 THE HONEY BADGER

detail of this creature’s somewhat lengthy bill of
fare—as it is with other items of the creation—it
is far from the only comestible upon which the
honey badger supports itself. I have seen several
of these creatures, and once, unfortunately, was
reluctantly compelled to kill one, which I found
on skinning him contained a large number of
half-grown locusts. But in addition to honey
and insects of various kinds, including white and
other ants, the honey badger is a great destroyer
of rats and mice, in pursuit of which he has been
furnished by nature with ample means of bur-
rowing for their nests.

The unfortunate honey badger I was com-
pelled to kill was first espied during the morning
march by one of my carriers in the Barué region
of Zambezia. Casting discipline to the winds,
and his load after it, the misguided porter dashed
off in pursuit. Supposing that his disappearance
was occasioned by other causes, I paid no atten-
tion to the matter until loud yells from some
distance in the direction which he had taken
intimated the occurrence of some incident of an
untoward character. Fearing snake-bite, or some
such mishap, I hurried in the direction whence
the sounds came, wondering as I did so whether
my lancet and permanganate of potassium were
fairly accessible, but when I arrived the following
tableau presented itself—The carrier, with an
expression of face in which pain and alarm were
admirably depicted, was executing a kind of
danse fantastique and roaring lustily, whilst from a
portion of his anatomy which the late Dr. Busby

THE HONEY BADGER 231

used to declare was especially designed by Provi-
dence for the correction of youth, there hung with
great determination a curious-looking animal.
This pendant beast was like neither dog nor cat ;
it looked, rather, a curious mixture between an
otter and a badger, was about the size of the latter,
and gave one the impression of having been
originally more or less grey all over but having,
by accident, fallen into some black substance
which had so coloured it half-way up the flanks
and almost to the top of its head. The teet
terminated in good serviceable claws, and the
expression on the animal’s face as it maintained its
determined hold was one of placid resolution.
This I afterwards ascertained to be a honey
badger. Several others of my people having by
this time appeared upon the scene, the sufferer
was speedily relieved, but no sooner had the honey
badger been discouraged from maintaining his
grip on the carrier by means of heavy blows from
a stick than, instead of retreating like any well-
ordered beast into the fastnesses of the bush, he
transferred his attentions to my gun-bearer whom
he attacked quietly but mischievously. Having
by this time two men suffering more or less as the
result of this small but determined animal’s bites
I had now no option but to shoot him.

He was a fine, well-grown specimen, and I
kept his skin by me for several years. It was a
curious trophy, of great thickness, and when
stretched from having been pegged out, appeared
to have come from some animal of considerably
larger size. To this curious fact—namely, the

232 THE HONEY BADGER—OTTERS

thickness and looseness of his skin—is attributed
his immunity from the bites of snakes. I do not
know whether this may be the case, but my
hunters have on several occasions recounted to
me most exciting instances fo this creature’s
triumphs over the most deadly of the African
poison snakes—even the justly dreaded mamba.

Here is another of those forms with which
the average hunter is more likely to become
acquainted by means of a trap than a rifle.

The rivers of this part of Africa contain, so
far as I am aware, but two kinds of otter—the
spotted-necked variety and the widely distributed
Cape otter. These are found in great numbers in
the extensive marshes of which such wide areas
south of the Zambezi consist. The smaller ani-
mal last mentioned is of a dull, somewhat pale
brown, the former being darker in colour and
distinguished by the peculiar characteristic neck
spots. My friend Mr. H. L. Duff mentions in one
of his publications having seen in Nyasaland the
skin of an otter of larger size than either of these,
and showing a broad patch of silvery grey on the
throat and chest. This animal is by no means
unknown in the marshes which form the sources
of the Mupa and Mungari Rivers, where I have
seen them myself in the possession of the
natives. It is possible that this may be a new
species.

Otters are night animals, whose curious
grunting is perhaps oftener heard than recognised.
They live on fish, frogs, and landcrabs, varying
this diet occasionally on the appearance of a

Vil A ENOEL

teh Ys og

HARES—DASSIE—THE GIANT RAT 233

flight of locusts, but due to their nocturnal habits
and inaccessible haunts, they are rarely seen by
Europeans.

Hares, and that curious little creature the
rock rabbit or dassie, are not uncommon, but some-
what localised. I fancy the Hare is the same as
that found in the Nyasaland Protectorate. It is
a fine large animal, weighing 6 or 7 lbs., reddish
brown in colour, running up to black, streaked with
grey, and dirty white underneath. In Gorongoza,
and in the hilly country south of Shupanga, these
hares are very frequently put up. They do not
seem to me to be so good as the home-bred
variety, their flesh being singularly tasteless.

The Dassies are not found, so far as Iam aware,
at a low elevation; but on the high mountain
plateaux of Mlanje, Morumballa, and other high-
lands they exist in large colonies.

That curious creature the Giant Rat is com-
mon wherever there are marshes containing the
ordinary bango-reed and papyrus rushes. Inweight
this animal must attain to fully 10 lbs. or over,
and is about the size of a large hare. Its body is
rat-like in shape, and its tail, though not very long,
is quite characteristic of the tamily to which it
belongs. I am informed that its flesh is a great
delicacy, but I must confess never to have had
the courage to try it. The appearance of this
animal, with its great bulk and uncomfortable,
bristly coat, is so abnormal, so suggestive of the
horrors of a disordered dream, that these con-
siderations completely relieve me of the smallest

desire to partake of it.

234 THE GIANT RAT

I have just stated that giant rats frequent
swampy, low-lying ground, and low elevations
generally, but apparently that is not always the
case. Several years ago, I was bidden one night
to dine with three friends at that most admirable
and comfortable house of entertainment, the
Savoy Hotel at Beira, and afterwards, at the in-
vitation of our host, we proceeded upstairs to the
top of the three-storied building to indulge in a
rubber of bridge. This over, we were sitting
chatting quietly, and enjoying the beauty of the
soft African night, when I suddenly saw my host’s
usually jovial face stiffen and freeze into an
expression of unbounded horror. Following the
direction in which he gazed, I saw an immense
rat, such as I have described above, quite casually
and leisurely making its way along the top of the
outer veranda rail. I rushed to catch it by its
stiffly projecting tail in order to swing it round
and beat its brains out against the iron of the
railing, but the creature was a little too quick
for me, and in trying to run down the outer face
of the balustrade, it lost its footing, and fell into
the street below, a distance of some 45 feet.
At that moment several Portuguese soldiers and
police officials were passing the hotel. Exactly
what happened I shall never know, but, as we
gazed over into the darkness, first an exclamation
of surprise rose upon the quiet air, then a wild yell
of dismay, followed by the pattering of hastily
retreating feet. We hurried below, but by the
time we had reached the roadway all was quiet,
so that there was nothing for it but to separate,

THE ANT-EATER 235

which we accordingly did, after having once
more assured each other with great fervour that
we had all seen it.

I have never received a satisfactory ex-
planation of how or why this rat should have gone
into a building at all, or what it was doing at
that height from the ground. Two of the party,
in addition to myself, recognised it instantly, so
that the creature’s identity does not admit of a
doubt.

Occasionally, if you should be residing or
stopping for any length of time in Zambezia, the
natives will bring you for sale, all curled up in
some disused hencoop, a very scared, recently
captured Ant-eater. These curious creatures,
about three or four feet long, are rather like a
crocodile-shaped armadillo. They are covered
all over, except on the under side, of course, with
an armour of proof consisting of large, thick,
horny scales, which must be a complete protection
to them when once curled up into the hedgehog
shape they assume upon the approach of danger.
These scales are very thick, and of a tough, hard
substance, and impervious, I should imagine, to
anything short of a rifle bullet. In handling these
creatures the greatest care must be taken to
avoid getting the fingers caught under the closing
armour as he rolls himself up, otherwise they may
be very badly crushed indeed.

The scaly ant-eater, as the name indicates,
maintains itself, 1 believe, entirely upon the blind
white termite and such other kinds of ants as it
ean find, but preferably upon the former. It

236 THE ANT-EATER, ETC

feeds itself in a manner similar to that followed
by the ant-bear, gathering up the helpless, strug-
gling insects many at a time upon its long, sticky
tongue. It is perfectly harmless and, owing to
its nocturnal habits, but rarely seen. Ant-eaters
are furnished at the extremities of their short
limbs with powerful digging claws, and the
rapidity with which, upon inducement offering,
they can get underground must be seen to be
believed.

The native witch-doctors, in some parts of
the country, utilise the scales of the ant-bear in
determining the innocence or guilt of persons
accused of the commission of serious offences.
Six of these scales and an equal number of flat
shells are manipulated, and after much shuffling,
division, redivision, and reunion are believed ac-
curately to exonerate or condemn the individual
appealing to them.

In addition to the foregoing there are, spread
throughout the length and breadth of the country,
a number of other small animals of a more or less
insignificant character, such as the pole-cats,
squirrels, weasels, rats, mice, and moles, with a
description of which I have not considered it
either necessary or desirable to waste the reader’s
time. They are really only interesting to the
naturalist or the man possessed of special know-
ledge, and to these this book is not particularly
addressed.

Should a collection of these small forms be
desired, they must be trapped and carefully pre-
pared for preservation, and an application should

SMALLER FORMS 237

be made to my friend Mr. Oldfield Thomas of the
Natural History Museum, Cromwell Road, S.W.,
who takes great pains in kindly instructing
would-be collectors in the best methods to be
pursued.

CHAPTER XI
THE MONKEYS

ZAMBEZIA certainly cannot be said to possess
many families of Monkeys. None of the great
apes such as have been found in the equatorial
regions and on the western side of the African
continent are found here, nor yet can we hope to
see that striking form existing as far south and
east as the high country north-west of Lake
Nyasa, and known as the colobus monkey—-that
wonderful white and jet black type which is rarely
if ever seen lower than the topmost branches of
the forest trees.

I remember when I was living at Mozambique,
where I was serving at the British Consulate in
the later nineties, that a statement vouched for
by the local natives was to the effect that upon
and around a certain large, table-topped mountain
some twenty odd miles to the northward, monkeys
had been seen compared with which the largest
baboon was but as a child to a full-grown man.
On two occasions I went up to a point as near the
mountain as I could reach to endeavour to obtain
more definite and detailed information regarding
this animal, but, although I was shown his haunts,
and made what attempts I could to obtain a speci-

men, or at least to see the creature, I never suc-
238

THE BABOONS 239

ceeded in doing either. Making certain allowances
for native exaggeration, it is difficult to believe
that the stories one heard of it could possibly have
been so consistent and convincing if no foundation
really existed for them in fact.

But putting aside this uncertain and shadowy
possibility of what there may be, and confining
ourselves to the more tangible consideration of
what there are, we are at once faced with those
fascinating types the two Baboons, which are
very well distributed, and quite sufficiently
numerous. These are the grey or chacma, and
the yellow baboon. To the latter, by reason of
his unmistakable colouring, the world of sport and
science has grown well accustomed; but there
are probably few among the wild creatures of
Atrica who get themselves so frequently dis-
covered and rediscovered as the unintentionally
deceitful chacma. Almost all observers, especially
if they should possess, or believe themselves to
possess, that vague, intangible quality called
special knowledge, have found themselves over
and over again on the brink of a new discovery
as they gloated over the corpse of some newly
slain “old man,”’ whose coat, owing to youth, old
age, skin disease, or other similar cause presented
slight differences of colour compared with perhaps
the last member of his family to fall into their
hands. I am convinced that the chacma is
almost as varied in the colour of his coat as is his
distant relative, the observer ; thus you may find
him of all shades from bluish grey to dark brown
streaked and tinged with grey, and from dirty

240 THE BABOONS

white beneath to a paler continuation of the
general hue. It has been stated by other writers
that this animal does not extend to the north of
the Zambezi, but this is incorrect, as I have seen
the chacma and shot several specimens in the
Quelimane district and in the rocky, mountainous
highlands of the Lugella Prazo, but without
achieving anything in the nature of a new variety.

In little-frequented districts, and by that I
mean, of course, those little frequented by the
man with a gun, baboons grow extremely bold.
So much is this the case that not infrequently
they display considerable reluctance to give way
before one, especially where they appear in large
troops. South of Shupanga Forest, and on the
little-known eastern foothills of the Cheringoma
mountain range, I have seen them in bands of
nearly a hundred strong. I have a very vivid
recollection of one particular evening in Shupanga
in 1909. I was encamped for the night in the
outskirts of a native village, and, accompanied by
a hunter carrying a rifle, had been out for a stroll
with my shot-gun, looking for guinea-fowl and
pigeons. On the way back we had to cross a
small glade of ten to fifteen acres wherein I could
see in the longish grass a number of chacmas
strolling very slowly in the same direction as
ourselves, some on the path and some parallel
to it. From time to time they would look at us
over their shoulders, stop for a second or two to
examine a grass root for insects, and then stroll
on again. In this way we continued until I was
not more than fifty yards from the outlying score

THE BABOONS 241

or so, which contained some exceptionally large
animals. Frankly, I did not much like it. With-
out displaying a threatening appearance, they
seemed to be intent upon showing us that they
were not going to be hustled by us. At that
moment my companion uttered a loud shout, in
the expectation of scaring them away, but this
simply brought them all round facing us, barking
and chattering and evidently in a state of great
excitement. As we advanced they continued to
retire, still facing us, but at no faster pace than
our own, several on each side of the path, mouth-
ing and grimacing and evidently trying hard to
get us toretreat. Had we done so I think it very
probable that we should have been attacked,
and, but for our firearms, severely injured. I
refrained from firing upon them, however, and
when we gained the trees on the other side near
our camp they gradually edged away, but for long
afterwards their barks and chatterings, and that
singular noise they make like a diamond traversing
a pane of glass, were distinctly audible. I have
never known baboons make a more hostile
demonstration.

Of course the chacma, a considerably larger
creature than the common yellow baboon of
East Central Africa, is a large, powerful, and
formidable animal. Stories are on record of their
having attacked human beings when in large
numbers, and J remember, years ago, hearing one
in Nyasaland, which certainly bore the stamp of
circumstantiality, of an unfortunate European
who, under the influence of intoxicants, succeeded

242 THE BABOONS

in provoking a band of baboons to the point of
attacking him and injuring him most seriously.
Baboons, although usually to be found in the
granite hills of which so much of South Central
Africa consists, are frequently met with in forest
country. In the thickly tree-covered plains
bordering the Zambezi they are very numerous,
and do a great deal of damage to the native gar-
dens, the attack upon which is conducted with the
nicest regard for well-thought-out detail. Thus,
on approaching the scene of the raid, the troop
takes open order, so to speak, the females, with
their babies clinging round their necks, or with
those of slightly riper growth following behind,
advancing directly but noiselessly upon the scene
of the robbery, whilst several of the “ old men”
take up positions, by either climbing trees or
getting upon an adjacent rock or ant-hill, which
enable them to observe and signal the approach
of danger. This they do by the utterance of a
gruff bark, whereupon, snatching all they can
lay their hands upon, and with cheek-pouches
stuffed to their utmost capacity, they tear away,
uttering the curious “ glazier’s diamond ”’ sound
to which I have referred above. Should the in-
terruption be caused by the appearance of one or
two women, however, they will frequently turn
en bande, literally mob them, and usually put them
to flight, promptly appropriating anything of an
edible character which they may have been carry-
ing at the time. There can be no doubt what-
soever that baboons discriminate readily between
the males and the females of the human species,

THE BABOONS 243

and are fully alive to the ease with which, in
comparison with the former, the latter may be
stampeded and driven off. It is incontestable
that native women hold baboons in the strongest
detestation and terror, and various scarcely
credible stories are related of the boldness of these
animals when women have been reduced through
fear to helplessness. Personally I incline strongly
to the view that the baboon’s one object in de-
monstrating before native women is to possess
himself less of the affrighted female than of any
small articles of an edible character she may have
in her possession at the time, and I have never
heard an authenticated case of the animal having
occasioned her further cause for reproach, if one
except a severe fright into the bargain. Still,
however improbable the belief in the designs
which baboons are said to have upon native
women and girls, it has gained such ground as to
have obtained practically universal belief.

The intelligence of the chacma is extra-
ordinary, and whilst young they make most
amusing companions. Very affectionate, and
with a perfect memory for acts of kindness and
the reverse, they frequently form a strong attach-
ment for their masters which does not altogether
fade on the arrival of the deeper preoccupations
of maturity. The same is no doubt true of the
yellow variety.

At my consular post at Mozambique I had for
more than a year led a quiet life of unbroken
peace—unbroken that is save for the periodical
attacks of fever by which that unhappy island is

244 THE BABOONS

perpetually overshadowed, when one evening,
during dinner, I was informed that a Portuguese
soldier and a monkey desired to see me. I
accordingly descended to the court-yard of the
Consulate, and found a young corporal of cavalry
shedding bitter tears at the prospect of the
morrow’s departure for Lisbon, which would
separate him from his comrade of several years’
standing, a large, formidable, singularly evil-
looking, yellow baboon named Joao. Touched by
the pathos of the unhappy man’s manifest sorrow,
and not a little flattered at the confidence he
expressed that in my charge Joao would find a
comfortable home—a reflection which would
soften the poignancy of his griei—I consented,
not without some considerable misgiving, to
assume charge of him.

From that evening I count most of the
bitterest moments I experienced whilst I resided
in the island of Mozambique.

Joao was secured to a large tree which grew
in the middle of the quintal or court-yard of the
consular premises, and singularly enough, and as
though he had fully assimilated his late master’s
valedictory exhortations, he and I became fast
friends. In fact I was practically his only one, as,
except to convey to him his daily food, none of
my servants dared to go near him.

A few days later, whilst in the middle of some
important task, I received a coldly worded noti-
fication from the Commissioner of Police stating
that an immense and formidable monkey, said to
be mine, had gained its freedom and had prac-

THE BABOONS 245

tically taken charge of an important thoroughfare,
had bitten, more or less severely, divers peaceful
citizens, and must at once be secured or shot. I
found Jodo shortly afterwards, seated upon the
counter of an Indian sweet shop, and having the
time of his life, whilst the tearful and affrighted
proprietor, note-book in hand, kept careful ac-
count of his ravages by dint of peeping nervously
in at the window through which the two from
time to time relieved the monotony of these pro-
ceedings by making frightful grimaces at each
other. Joao came to my call with a meek and
angelic expression apparently of conscious recti-
tude, and the spectacle of the British represen-
tative’s progress through the city leading and at
times almost carrying a large and _ larcenous
baboon was one which the delighted populace
was probably long in torgetting.

Soon afterwards, seated in my study one
morning, a soft pattering of hasty naked foot-
steps on the stairs heralded the entry of the
breathless and tearful Goanese cook of my neigh-
bour the Bishop Apostolic of the Province of
Mozambique—one of those great princes of the
Church who take precedence of even the highest
of the administrative authorities. His painful
recital, interrupted by frequent gasps of indig-
nation and horror, was to the effect that whilst
making preparations for his eminence’s luncheon,
an immense baboon, who must be the father of all
the baboons, of unexampled fierceness, had
suddenly leaped upon his back through the open
doorway. Regarding what followed, the narrative

17

246 THE BABOONS

was a little vague, except that the immediate
flight of the cook had been in no small degree
expedited by a vicious bite which he had received
in what the late Dean Stanley was wont to de-
scribe as the “bosom ”’ of his trousers.

** And now, Senhor Consul,’? continued the
excited oriental, his voice growing gradually
higher and shriller as his mind had leisure to
grasp more fully the abuses and indignities to
which he had been subjected, “‘and now, it has
broken all my eggs, there is nothing left un-
broken in my kitchen, and if you will look from
the gardens of the Consulate you will see it sitting
upon the wall and eating the Bishop’s cold
turkey.”

I must confess I felt the position to be one of
unusual difficulty: first to secure the delinquent,
who, perched upon a high party-wall, was enjoying
himself with the air of one who has the world at
his feet, and, secondly, successfully to placate the
just wrath of the despoiled prelate. Fortunately
I succeeded, after some slight difficulty, and a
little coldness, in achieving both, and once more
Joao was led captive to his accustomed tree.

I could fill a chapter with other incidents in
this graceless creature’s criminal career, or such
portion of it as was spent within the scope of my
own immediate observation. What was his ulti-
mate fate I never knew—never indeed had the
courage to inquire. Being directed soon after-
wards to assume office at the British Consulate
at Beira, I made all preparations for my departure,
and finally locked up the premises preparatory to

THE BABOONS 247

proceeding on board my steamer. But before
doing so, I stole quietly to the tree whereunder
Joio was tethered, very gently unfastened his
detaining bonds, and—fled. We never met again.

This animal, as I have stated elsewhere,
belonged to the smaller yellow variety, but even
so he was almost it not quite as big as a good-sized
mastiff, and his strength, activity and energy
were boundless. He certainly seemed to entertain
a great affection for me, a circumstance which I
have long looked back upon as a somewhat
doubtful compliment, and whilst barely tolerant
of the native and other servants, would welcome
my approach with unmistakable signs of the most
touching pleasure. He was quite full grown, but
displayed none of the mature chacma’s morose-
ness of disposition on arriving at that stage of
life’s journey ; on the contrary, Jodo was never
tired of romping and gambolling, and I have not
seldom felt inclined to attribute most of his more
regrettable irregularities to that feeling of joie de
vivre which, during youth, renders the commission
of sins so attractive an occupation to most of us
during the all too fleeting passage of that bright
period.

But I cannot pass from my account of the
baboons without reference to the one weak spot
in their claim to intelligence—the one blot on
their reasoning powers. That is the stupid,
unnecessary manner in which they allow them-
selves to be captured. When first I was told of
this method of catching baboons I could not
refrain from suspecting that an attempt was being

248 THE BABOONS

made to catch me, but I have since found the
practice I am about to describe to be a very general
one. All that is necessary is a well-secured
calabash gourd. Into this, through a small
aperture barely large enough to admit the open
hand of the victim, a few grains of maize or a
small quantity of millet is placed, and the trap
deposited in some spot where the baboons are
likely to pass. On arrival the eager band are
not long in discovering it, and the unlucky wight
to do so promptly squeezes his hand through
the hole, and closes it triumphantly on the grains
of food within. Game is now called, and the
watching natives draw nigh to secure their cap-
tive. Seeing their approach he makes the most
desperate efforts to escape, but finds that with
his marauding hand now firmly closed on the
bait, which it never for one moment occurs to him
to relinquish, he cannot get it out of the gourd,
and is thus forced to permit the detaining sack
to be thrust over his head without further
resistance than a few desperate bites at the hands
of his captors.

But however tame baboons may become in
captivity, nothing will ever finally extinguish
that mischievous spirit of inherent naughtiness
which every one of these animals possesses. I
remember, as a case in point, an incident which
took place at Beira when I resided there in 1898.
I do not quite recollect the occasion, but I fancy
it was connected with the Vasco da Gama cele-
brations which took place in that year, a part of
which was the celebration of a High Mass to which

THE BABOONS 249

I was officially bidden. It was, of course, cus-
tomary to attend these functions in full uniform,
and the scene in the small church—of corrugated
iron, and containing a temperature not usually
associated with places of worship—was quite a
brilliant one. On this occasion, on leaving, I was
accompanied by an officer of the Lisbon Civil
Guard some distance on my return to the Con-
sulate. He was, needless to say, very smartly
uniformed, and bore in his helmet a fine plume
of cock’s feathers not unlike those worn by
British Genecal Officers. After a moment of
adieux, he turned into the gardens of his residence,
and I continued upon my way. Before I had
teaversed a dozen yards, however, I heard an
exclamation ot alarm, and, turning quickly, saw
the officer, his helmet hanging over the back of
his neck, rush from the premises hotly pursued
by a large chacma baboon holding, as it tore after
him, a good-sized double handful of the beautiful
cock’s feathers to which I have just alluded. The
pursuit was a short one, the officer drew his sword,
and made a number of rapid but ineffectual
passes at his active assailant who, despite a dis-
play of fine swordsmanship, always kept just out
of reach of the whistling blade. A moment after-
wards we joined forces, and the baboon was
driven off. This animal was the property of a
neighbouring railway employé, and having got
loose allowed my military friend to get quite
close to the tree in which he had taken refuge
when, leaping lightly upon his shoulders as he
passed, he seized the smart helmet by the plume,

250 OTHER MONKEYS

dragged out half the feathers, administered a
severe bite on the back of the officer’s neck, and
regained the tree in the twinkling of aneye. The
alarmed guardsman made a precipitate rush into
the roadway, scarcely comprehending what had
befallen, and, as anybody with a knowledge of
baboons well knows, retreat before them is a
certain precursor of further trouble. But what
filled me with the greatest regret was the sadden-
ing spectacle of the moulted plume, which had
been shorn of a great amount of its former
jauntiness.

Now I do not think for a moment that the
baboon acted out of malice; it was tickled, I
suppose, by the appearance of the dancing cock’s
feathers, and being sufficiently tame to have lost
all dread of humanity, thought it would per-
petrate a practical joke. Personally I am con-
vinced that monkeys have as keen an appreciation
of practical jokes as we have—in fact few who
have watched them will be unaware of their love
of leaping with lightning spring on and off some
unconscious, until startled, native’s head, and
regaining their tree or box with a grimace of en-
joyment which reminds one of that of a small
underbred boy.

There are in Zambezia, in addition to the
baboons, two or three types of monkeys which
we may refer to as the grivet, Sykes’ monkey,
and that very handsome type the Samango.

The Grivets are perhaps the most familiar of
the three I have mentioned above. This is the
small, grey, blackfaced animal, with a faintly

THE GRIVET 251

straw-coloured under-tinge, which becomes such
an amusing and intelligent pet if kept in a suit-
able place of confinement. He is full of life from
morning to night, and never quiet for a moment.
One of these small creatures was given to my wife
by my friend Major Stevenson-Hamilton whilst
we resided last year at Delagoa Bay, and during
the remainder of our stay there was a source of
continual amusement to us. Not more than half-
grown at the time of his arrival, Algernon grew
apace, and loved nothing so much as a little rough
horse-play in the sand. As evening approached
and the air grew cooler he would draw over his
head and around his shoulders a small, very dirty
piece of cloth which thus did duty as a sort of
cape, holding it, until slumber relaxed his small
fingers, tightly beneath his chin. Should a
vagrant current of the afternoon breeze remove
this coverlet to a point beyond his reach, his shrill
and piercing lamentations would continue until
it was restored to him, when, as the gloom
deepened, he would climb into his box clutching
it nervously to him, and methodically rolling it
round him, compose himself to sleep.
Throughout Zambezia grivets are very com-
mon, and their skins may frequently be seen in the
possession of the natives. They do a good deal
of damage, in common with other varieties, to
the native gardens, which they despoil of grain,
ground-nuts, and other produce. They are fre-
quently seen in small parties in the branches of
the mangrove trees which skirt the East African
rivers, and in the forest itself may often be

252 THE SAMANGO—LEMURS

detected fleeing through the branches of the
trees, which they agitate like a strong wind.

Sykes’ Monkey is a comparative rarity. The
only one I have seen was in captivity, in pos-
session of a member of the numerous family of
my old Portuguese friend Senhor Balthazar
Farinha at Quelimane. Somewhat lerger than
the grivet, and with a much thicker and hand-
somer coat, the colouring of this type is in every
way richer, running in fine gradations from the
reddish black of the lower portion of the back to
a fine greenish tinge over the neck and shoulders.
_ The Samango, of which I recently saw a
particularly fine and remarkably tame specimen
at the African Lakes Hotel at Chinde, is again, if
I mistake not, larger than Sykes’ variety. This
really beautiful animal passed its days in the
branches of a small tree in the back premises of
the hotel, where, for hours at a time, it would
swing backward and forward at the extremity of
its generous tether. The general colour scheme
is rich, glossy, dark steel-grey, with black head
and limb extremities, the fur very soft and thick,
and the features handsomer—if one may use
such an expression in connection with a monkey
—than are those of others of the smaller varieties.
It lacks the velvety gradations of colour seen in
Sykes’ monkey, as also the bright blue scrotum of
the more plainly apparelled grivet.

A very pretty and interesting creature, which
also makes a delightful pet, is the small, fluffy,
wistful-looking Lemur. I believe in certain parts
of Africa, notably the south, this small animal has

' LEMURS sy 253

been not inappropriately named the ‘ Bush-
baby,” by reason of the resemblance of its cry
to that of a newly-born infant feeling in need of
the ministrations of its nurse. The lemur is
extraordinarily soft and light, the fine, bluish-
grey hair reminding one irresistibly of that of the
chinchilla without the latter’s pronounced grey-
ness. Nothing could exceed the dignified sedate-
ness of these small creatures, nor the daintiness of
their every movement. They can leap con-
siderable distances in pursuit of moths and other
insects, alighting with a noiseless lightness in-
credible in a creature unprovided with wings.
One of these small animals which I possessed for
a long time developed quite a touching tameness,
and the only flaw in its otherwise irreproachable
conduct was the inconsiderate manner with which
it would occasionally leap from some high vantage
ground upon the fez or shoulders of the native
servants as they brought in afternoon tea. This
arose from the leaper’s tondness for milk, which he
understood would now make its appearance ;_ but
his impatience was on one occasion attended by
most serious consequences, the nerve-shattered
attendant upon whom he alighted dropping the
tea-tray with dire consequences.

In a wild state the lemurs spend most of their
time in the trees. They are rarely seen moving
owing to their nocturnal habits. During the
night the small family leave their hollow tree-
trunk, or other place of refuge, and move leisurely
through the branches in search of the leaves which
they particularly affect, and the resinous gum

254 ANTHROPOID APES

which exudes from the bark of certain trees, such
as the acacia and others, which it varies oc-
casionally when tempted by a nice, fat night
moth. It is probable that many of these small
creatures, particularly before reaching maturity,
fall victims to the various types of owl which
their cries must attract.

As I remarked at the commencement of this
chapter, it is a somewhat curious circumstance
that in no part of East Africa, so far as we are at
present aware, do we find any representatives of
the great, and in some cases almost humanly in-
telligent man-apes, or ape-men—I do not know
which may be regarded as the more appropriate
term—which exist in Equatorial and certain other
portions of West Africa. Chief among these is
the gorilla, that enormous terrible type, standing
in many cases over 6 feet in height, and prac-
tising the power of walking erect to a greater
extent perhaps than any other of the diverse
families of what are in India so picturesquely
designated the “‘ monkey-people.’”” Then another
interesting absentee is the chimpanzee of Sierra
Leone, Liberia, and other West African geo-
graphical divisions. The “chimp,” as he is in-
variably called there, is so human, and recognises
so quickly his relationship to the white man that
at times, even it is said when newly captured,
he has been known to make the greatest dis-
tinction between the native and the European,
regarding the latter, almost from the commence-
ment of the acquaintanceship, with the utmost
confidence, and forming for him an affection as

CHIMPANZEES 255

touching as it is strange. In this regard in-
stances are not few in which, in a few weeks, these
creatures are taught to sit and eat at table, using
knife, fork, and glass with scrupulous correctness.
It is further now a matter of almost common
knowledge that this remarkable type of monkey
so far resembles the most highly developed of his
kind as to experience the emotions prompting to
laughter and tears. Chimpanzees also sing and
dance, and have oral methods of communicating
definite meaning to others of their species.
Several West African friends of mine who have
owned chimpanzees are all agreed upon these
points, and further assure me that they early
learn to appreciate the custom of kissing, and cry
bitterly if scolded for a fault. Whether the joys
of osculation are mutual as between the chimp
and his human trainer, I was not told.

But, after all, I do not see why this should
not be so. When one comes to consider the very
small differences between so-called monkey and
so-called man, much which we look upon in the
former as abnormal and uncanny provides itself,
to my mind, with a very clear and easy ex-
planation. Take, for example, the fact of the
possession of a tail. Even the highest form of the
man of to-day possesses at birth—and naturally
thereafter—attached to that large bone called
the sacrum several—three or four—apparently
unimportant vertebre. They are, of course,
sunk beneath the skin, but cases have not been
wanting in the past of the birth of men-children
possessing free and discernible tails. But if we

256 SIMIAN SIMILARITIES

should come to compare this curious condition of
things with the structure of the chimpanzee, and
possibly others of the larger apes, we should find
that they possess the same rudimentary or atro-
phied or hidden tail-bones as those found in the
structure of man. Huxley has proved to de-
monstration that, although the same peculiarity
cannot be traced in the cases of other animals,
every recognised bone and muscle and sinew and
formation, even to the possession of a vermiform
appendix, found in the larger apes, such as the
gorilla and chimpanzee, are present also in the
structure of man, with the exception of one or
two small muscles in the human hand or foot—I
forget which, but I think the latter, since it is a
matter of scientific fact that the hand of the
higher apes coincides in every respect with that
of man.

Then again take the question of hairiness.
There are probably few among us who, stripping
for a swim, or changing flannels in the club
pavilion, have not remarked among our con-
temporaries hairiness of body or limbs or both
almost as great as would be found in the cases of
some of the lower animals. There is, in my opin-
ion, no reason for supposing that this hairiness
may not at one time have been general in the race,
whilst, if we come to examine the cranial forma-
tion of the human being, and compare it with
that of, say, the chimpanzee, we shall find that,
apart from form, both possess to all intents and
purposes the same peculiarities of structure, a
similarity extending to the number, formation,

SIMIAN SIMILARITIES 257

and grouping of the teeth, which are the same in
twentieth-century man as in the man-like apes
mentioned. Of course there are slight differences
of form, but they only connect themselves with
the size, length, and disposal of the larger canine
teeth.

I am afraid the foregoing remarks have but
little in common with the purpose which this
book originally set out to serve, namely, to de-
scribe something of the wild animals of Zambezia,
but to my idea the fascinating study of the
evolution of our species, and of the peculiarities
which characterise and bring near to us our more
backward relations, is a subject upon which, in
passing, I cannot refrain from writing a few words.

CHAPTER XII

CROCODILES, SNAKES, AND SOME OTHER
REPTILES

WE now come to what it is, I think, impossible
to refrain from regarding as the loathsome, ab-
horrent, and repulsive among the inhabitants of
this part of Africa—those revolting forms which
Nature would seem to have created in some
regrettable moment of boundless vindictiveness,
for the express purpose of surrounding the beauti-
ful and useful members of the animal creation
with the ever-present risk of a ghastly death by
constriction, venom, or drowning. Were there
traceable in this incomprehensible dispensation
any beneficial or indeed intelligible purpose, any
advantage to the many in the sacrifice of the few,
the horrible mission of the reptiles might be
understood and, to some slight extent perhaps,
respected. But there is none whatsoever. When
one comes to reflect upon the immense and lam-
entable loss of human and animal life caused by
the vast numbers of reptiles by which Africa is
infested—a loss of life uncompensated by any
single discoverable advantage, unrequited by the
smallest benefit to those who survive—one fails
hopelessly to comprehend their inclusion in the

scheme of Nature, or to feel anything regarding
258

THE CROCODILE 259

them other than vain regret that their numbers
and varieties should to-day be to all intents and
purposes just as great and numerous as at any
period regarding which we possess reliable data.

Another singular and incomprehensible fact
connected with this subject is the length of the
period of life assigned to certain members of the
reptile families in comparison with that which the
mammals enjoy. Take, for example, that hideous
blot upon the creation, the crocodile. There can
be little doubt that the life of this murderous pest
is, in favourable conditions, far longer than that
of any of the terrestrial animals, probably not
even excepting the largest. The astonishing
manner in which the crocodile’s teeth renew
themselves practically rejuvenates the reptile,
and there can be no doubt that this marvellous
continuous process of dental change goes on and
on until the creature reaches an immense age,
altogether, in the present state of our know-
ledge, beyond computation. Scientists, even those
possessed of special knowledge, can afford no
insight into the question of how many times, or
up to what age, the teeth of the crocodile renew
themselves—in fact it may be taken as a fact
that these are points regarding which science has
nothing whatsoever to tell us.

There is, I believe, only one kind of crocodile
found in Africa,! and this is thought by some
writers to be identical with the type existing
and exacting so heavy a tax upon human life in

1 Since the foregoing was written I learn that West Africa
possesses two forms of crocodile, with which I am unfamiliar.

260 THE CROCODILE

the rivers of our Indian Empire. Whatever
may be the case in other parts of the continent,
those existing in the Zambezi and its tributaries
are not distinguished by extraordinary length,
although at times the girth to which they attain
is very considerable indeed. The measure-
ments of the largest recovered by me from the
great numbers I have destroyed were: length
just over 17 ft., girth behind the fore-arms
7 ft. 2in. This, however, was an exceptionally
large specimen, and was killed by me on the
banks of the Urema River in Cheringoma in 1904,
and, was, I suppose, quite 3 ft. longer than the
average length to which they attain in this part
of Africa. The Urema, like all Portuguese East
African streams, is full of crocodiles, many of
which are of large size. At the point at which I
shot the monster above referred to the river
flows through an immense open plain destitute
of} trees, but high grasses, papyrus rushes, and
reeds, growing close to the water, and on wide
flats extending for miles back from its banks,
invest the whole region with a mournful air of
extreme and depressing desolation. These flats
become converted during many months of the
year by rain and overflows into wide systems
of impassable marsh. Through these wastes of
high grass and reeds there used to be game
tracks—narrow, tortuous ways followed in the
dry weather by the large numbers of animals
which at one time used the Urema as their
daily watering-place. Following one of these
one morning I was in time conducted to the

“MTLTOIOND
togz fg 2IV/ OF

wy

THE CROCODILE 261

river, flowing sluggishly behind low banks, which,
nevertheless, concealed it until within a few
yards. Glancing up and down the stream, I
saw that at a short distance below me it de-
scribed a sharp bend, the left margin jutting
out in a shallow sand-bank midway across the
river. Upon this, fast asleep in the sun, their
serrated tails drawn just clear of the water and
their terrible jaws wide open, reposed several
large crocodiles. By making a quiet détour I
reached a point a little above, and not more
than 40 yards from the unsuspecting reptiles.
My Lee-Metford bullet struck the one selected
a little behind the eye, and carried away a large
portion of the back of the skull. The only
evidence that he had been hit lay in the immediate
closing of the wide-open jaws. He lay perfectly
still, whilst his companions gained the water in a
great hurry to an accompaniment of hollow
plunges. On opening him, the stomach was
found to contain some water-buck meat and a
little of the flesh of a mud-fish, but that he was a
malefactor was evident from the much eroded
remains of a copper or brass wire bangle found
among several pounds of stones and pebbles of
various sizes. The skull of this creature is still
in my possession, and is a trophy of no small
interest. A very singular characteristic of
crocodiles is their astonishing nervous vitality.
Until more than an hour after the death and
dismemberment of the specimen above described
the muscles continued to twitch and the heart to

palpitate. Whilst struggling to remove the hard,
18

262 THE CROCODILE

thick skin of the upper portion of the body,
this monster occasioned much alarm among
such of my people as were engaged upon the task
by making a most life-like nervous movement
of the tail whilst practically in pieces, and with
the whole of his inside removed. So sudden
and violent was the movement as completely
to trip up one of the operators, who fell under-
neath the remains and yelled dismally for
several moments in the full belief that his last
hour had assuredly come.

At the commencement of this chapter I
made some reference to the peculiarities of
crocodiles’ teeth. These are sixty-eight in
number, thirty-four in either jaw. They fit
accurately into spaces provided for them above
and below on the same principle as a rat-trap.
The two largest teeth of the lower jaw, some
8 inches in length, fit snugly into hollows pro-
vided in the bone of the upper jaw. It is clear,
therefore, that the crocodile’s teeth are designed
more for the purpose of seizing and holding his
prey than for the ordinary purposes of food
mastication, for which they appear to be entirely
unsuited. It would thus seem that crocodiles,
instead of feeding by the usual means of chewing
their food, either tear it to pieces and bolt it in
huge lumps, or swallow it whole. These teeth
are hollow and, on becoming worn out, are
pushed out of place by new ones which slowly
form beneath to replace them. I have examined
the teeth of a great many of these reptiles, but
never remember to have seen one in a state

THE CROCODILE 263

indicating much wear, as is so frequently the
case among the terrestrial animals of all kinds.
At the extremities of the short forearms croco-
diles are furnished with a hand-like foot terminat-
ing in long claws sometimes fully 2 inches in
length, which, it has been suggested, are used
for holding their prey whilst with their teeth they
tear and devour it. They carry four small
glands of musk, two beneath the jaws and two
a little in front of the hind legs, but though
strong and of good quality I am unaware that
the natives attach any value to it. Certain
portions of the skin can be utilised for com-
mercial purposes, but I fancy that only a very
small percentage of the vast numbers of articles
which are exhibited in Europe made apparently
from the hides of these reptiles ever came from
the body of any creature even remotely re-
sembling them.

Although not possessed of lungs of abnormal
size, these weird types can apparently remain
submerged for unlimited periods of time and,
unlike the hippopotamus, on regaining the sur-
face, renew their air supply without a sound,
quietly and unostentatiously withdrawing from
the surface obviously intent upon avoiding
notice or remark. It has been suggested by
other observers that the stones invariably found
in the stomach of the crocodile are swallowed as
in the cases of fowls and other birds for the
purpose of assisting digestion. The natives
of various parts of Africa, however, state
that they are swallowed to assist the creature

264 THE CROCODILE

motionlessly to maintain its required or desired
degree of submersion—in other words, as ballast.
Now without being in a position personally
to support either view, from the results of my
own observation, I think, when regard is had
to the immense potency of the crocodile’s gastric
fluid, that the idea would seem to have much to
commend it.

There can be, I imagine, little doubt that
crocodiles hibernate. Certainly they do so in
the “tanks” of India, whilst when annually
Lake Hardinge in British East Africa dries up,
crocodiles are said to remain there in a state of
torpor, half concealed in the mud, where they
await the return of the rainy season.

The crushing force of a crocodile’s jaws is
enormous. On the Zambezi I was once shown
an ordinary galvanised iron bucket which, tied
to a cord, is thrown into the river to draw water
for deck washing and other similar purposes.
This had been taken by a crocodile at Shupanga,
and when recovered was quite flat, the bottom
bent outward like a doubled piece of paper, and
the sides pierced completely through by the
merciless drill-like teeth. On another occasion
one of my natives was drawing in a large barbel
caught on an ordinary line when, as he described
it, there was a rush and a swirl and he drew up
about one-third of the fish, the remainder having
been cut clean off by a single snap from a
crocodile’s jaws. I have also seen on several
rivers halves and other portions of fish drifting
down which could only have been separated

THE CROCODILE 265

from the missing sections by this cause. Of
course the crocodile no doubt is an extensive
fish-eater on those many occasions when he can
get nothing else—indeed there are said, in portions
of British East Africa, to be certain small lakes
(Lake Baringo for example) containing these
reptiles where it is perfectly safe to bathe as,
owing to their invariable habit of devouring
fish, they have never been known to take
mammals of any description. Personally I
must confess that I should not care, in the
light of my knowledge of these creatures, to
take the risk. But in crocodile-infested waters
they may at times be watched in pursuit of the
fish when, usually at early morning or late after-
noon, these seek the landward shallows. Often,
seated upon the river banks of several East
African streams, at a respectful distance from the
edge of the water be it understood, I have seen
the crocodiles pursuing the teeming river fish,
into the midst of which they dash with great
violence, so much so that it is no unusual
occurrence for half a dozen or more of the
affrighted creatures to leap clear of the water
upon the sandy bank, there to fall an easy prey
to the ever-present fishing eagles or to the
omnivorous native.

Possibly to the fact that these reptiles pursue
the shoals into shallow water about the sunset
hour may be due also the circumstance that just
before and after nightfall is regarded as the time
at which their attack is most to be feared. Then,
as at early dawn, it is literally unsafe to stand

266 THE CROCODILE

within six or eight feet of the edge of the water un-
less you are many feet above it. It is a generally
admitted fact that the crocodile has a surprising
power of seeing distant objects from under water,
and once having marked down prospective prey,
his method of procedure is one of the utmost cool-
ness and the most methodical calculation. He
rises so slowly and unobtrusively to the surface
that only the eyes and crown of the head are
exposed, and probably in nine cases out of ten
these escape observation. Sinking once more he
gradually and imperceptibly draws near to the
unconscious object of his desires, which may
be a native knee-deep performing his evening
ablutions; a woman, her sleeping child slung
upon her back, filling the domestic water-pots ; an
antelope drinking—all is grist to the devouring
crocodile. Little by little, still invisible, that
terrible dusky form glides slowly beneath the sur-
face of the water, until, arrived at a point but a
few yards from its unsuspecting victim, there is
suddenly a terrific, a lightning rush, a heavy
splash, a wild, agonising scream, and—silence. A
disturbance takes place out yonder in the deeper
water, a hand and arm appear and disappear, a
slight wave dances gently landward, and the
earthenware water-pots on the river bank are the
sole evidence of a tragedy which is all too frequent.

I have seen two persons thus taken, or rather
I saw them and saw them no longer, so in-
stantaneous was the ghastly incident ; but what
is so terrible in such experiences is their hopeless-
ness, the impossibility, though the victim were

THE CROCODILE 267

taken from your very side, of help or rescue. The
last case I saw was particularly distressing. The
man, a native, was in the act of washing in the
shallows, as natives will, although fully aware of
the dangers they risk in doing so, and I had
actually turned to address a remark to the
European upon whose veranda I was sitting,
regarding the foolhardiness of the misguided
bather. As I did so he uttered an exclamation,
and leaped to his feet, and I looked back to the
river just in time to hear a piteous scream and see
a commotion in the deep water a few yards out
from the river bank upon which the victim had
been standing—just such an agitation as would
be made by some huge fish swimming rapidly
towards the centre. This died gradually away,
and we realised that the poor fellow was indeed
gone for ever. We rushed to the water’s edge.
There lay a red fez, and a small pile of clothing.
The wide Zambezi flowed placidly at our feet and
—that was all. The victim in this instance was
my host’s capitéo, or head plantation superin-
tendent, and, he told me, a man who would be
extremely difficult to replace ; but what doubtless
contributed in this as in hundreds of other
cases to the fatal issue is the blind faith the ill-
advised victim as usual reposed in the efficacy of
some charm purchased, probably at no little
cost, from a local medicine man and guaranteed to
render him immune to crocodiles, as well as to
other perils of African daily life. Over and over
again I have questioned natives as to the meaning
of some row of little pieces of reeds or bark or

268 THE CROCODILE

bones, strung together round their necks or wrists
or about their bodies, and if they have known me
well enough to unbosom themselves of the secret,
they have replied quite quietly and frankly, but
with an unshakable air of steady conviction, that
it was a charm rendering bullets powerless, or
wild beasts blind, or the wearer invisible, or some
similar rubbish—virtues in which most South
Central Africans have the blindest faith, which no
words of mine could discourage for an instant.
Thus it is, without question, that, with a con-
fidence in their superstition not wholly destitute
of pathos, they sacrifice themselves daily to the
horrible monsters which inhabit in unsuspected
numbers almost every African creek and water-
way.

The boldness of crocodiles at times is in-
conceivable. Captain Ross, of one of the Flotilla
Company’s Zambezi steamers, lost the coxswain
of one of his barges, who was taken in the act of
micturition whilst crouching upon one of the
barge’s rudder pintles, and this whilst the steamer
was under way in the Shiré River. A case oc-
curred in the Ruo stream near Chiromo of a
native being swept from the stern of his
canoe by a blow from a crocodile’s tail, and in-
stances are not wanting of persons standing or
walking several feet from the water’s edge being
thrown down in a similar manner and carried off.
In very few instances, where the reptile gets a
good hold, is escape possible, unless it be a young
one of small size. As I think I have pointed out
elsewhere, the teeth of these creatures are

THE CROCODILE 269

specially designed for holding, and their tenacity
is such that they will frequently allow themselves
to be drawn from the water and speared rather
than loosen that terrible, remorseless grip. One
or two cases, however, of escape from crocodiles
are within my recollection. One was that of a
Blantyre Mission boy who was seized in the Shiré
River near Katungas. Fortunately he was en-
abled to grasp a neighbouring tree branch, and
no doubt his assailant was of small size. In any
case he held on, yelling loudly for help, which
luckily came in the nick of time. The second
case was less fortunate, for although delivered
from the jaws of the crocodile in circumstances
similar to those described in the preceding in-
stance, the unhappy native died under the
anzsthetic employed in the amputation which his
injuries rendered necessary.

In crossing African rivers known to be haunted
by crocodiles the safest plan, although one not
always effective, is to do so accompanied by a
number of natives splashing and shouting loudly.
I remember on one occasion having to ford the
Urema River in Cheringoma together with about
forty carriers and servants. The water was about
waist-deep, and as we glanced up and down the ill-
omened stream we could see the horrible coffin-
shaped heads of at least a dozen large crocodiles
both above and below us. Before venturing
into the water I fired several shots from a mag-
azine rifle, and made my men shout loudly and
together. The heads withdrew and we began the
crossing. I was shouldered over by two stalwart

270 THE CROCODILE

Shangans, and when about half-way I saw to my
alarm that the crocodiles’ heads had reappeared,
and seemed if anything rather nearer than before.
Raising my rifle, therefore, I fired at the nearest,
and the next moment my two carriers and myself
were lying in a struggling heap in the bottom of
the river. Startled by my shot they dropped me,
and then in an access of nervousness fell over on
the top of me. However, we were soon out and,
to my inexpressible relief, none of my people were
missing, so the rest was of no importance; but
I have never seen a more unpleasant sight than
those grim heads regarding us on either hand as
we shouted and splashed our way across the
crocodile-infested waters of the Urema.

The females of these ill-devised creatures lay
about fifty or sixty eggs, burying them rather more
than a foot deep in the sand bordering the waters
they frequent, the localities being plainly identi-
fiable by the marks of their belly-scales and claw
excavations. The egg is white, about the same
size as a duck’s egg, and almost spherical. The
young are hatched out by the warmth of the sun’s
rays, and the tiny creatures, only a few inches
long, take immediately to water, most of them
to find sanctuary in the omnivorous and canni-
balistic stomachs of one or other of their own
species. These eggs are greatly prized as articles
of diet by certain tribes, but I do not know up to
what stage of the young crocodile’s unhatched
existence.

A somewhat amusing experience befell one
of my officials when I was serving in 1912 at the

THE SNAKES 271

British Consulate at Lourengo Marques. This
gentleman, who has many friends scattered over
South Africa, was one day the recipient of a small
wooden box which, a letter received by the same
post informed him, contained several crocodile’s
eggs. Being an uninquisitive person of singularly
placid and insouciant temperament, he allowed
the box and its contents to repose for some days
unopened beneath the shadow of an office or
other table. One drowsy afternoon our friend’s
attention, not being for the moment monopolised
by an overburdening amount of work, was
gradually attracted to a curious, inexplicable,
scratching, rustling sound, as elusive and as
difficult to locate as that of a midnight mouse
gnawing the skirting-board. The obstinate
continuation of this monotonous noise placing
further repose out of the question, efforts were
made to ascertain its cause, and after a pro-
longed search it was found, I think several days
later, to proceed from the identical box wherein
the crocodile’s eggs were enclosed. This was
at last cautiously opened, whereupon several
of the eggs were found to have hatched out.
The small reptiles, exceedingly active and no
doubt very hungry, were speedily placed in an
improvised pond where, the last time I saw
them, they appeared to be doing uncommonly
well.

Among African snakes I suppose the most
justly dreaded of all is the deadly Mamba, which
is found, happily not in very great numbers,
throughout the valley of the Zambezi, and there-

272 THE SNAKES

fore all over the area with which these pages
connect themselves.

The mambas which I have seen and killed
in Zambezia were, on the average, about 7 or 8
feet long. In some cases of a dull, greenish
black; in others of a fine transparent green.
This curious variation of colour, however, is
believed to be only indicative of the reptile
having recently sloughed his skin; the newly
acquired integument gradually darkening in
colour until the characteristic hue of what is
somewhat unnecessarily called the ‘“ black
mamba”’ is attained. Beneath the belly these
snakes are white.

The mamba is an appallingly venomous
reptile, its bite being said to be followed by
certain death in from ten to twenty minutes.
Apparently this creature spends as much time
in the branches of trees as upon the earth’s
surface; especially is this the case in the spring
and early summer, when, doubtless, it subsists
largely upon the young birds at that time leaving
the parent nests. Mambas travel through the
leafy branches at an astonishingly rapid pace;
where the trees are continuous they pass from
one to another with a smooth, speedy, gliding
motion which must be seen to be appreciated,
On land their method of progression, with about
one-third of the body raised from the ground, is
so swift that the fleetest runner, if followed by
them, would have but little if any chance of
escape. Fortunately, however, mambas, like
all other inhabitants of the wilds—if we except

THE SNAKES 273

certain ‘unpleasant insects—do not seek human
society. Except in cases where the biped
intruder blunders into the vicinity of a nest,
or finds himself between the creature and its
hole, it will practically always retire.

The recorded cases of the deaths which have
taken place as the result of the bites of mambas
are not, I believe, very numerous. Certainly,
during the whole of my many years of service
in Africa, I have never heard of an authenticated
case of loss from snake-bite of any kind of human
life. The only casualty from this cause which
I have actually seen was the death of a pig in
the outskirts of a native village near Tete, the
perpetrator of the tragedy (which I did not see)
being described to me as a reptile whose peculi-
arities coincided exactly with those of the mamba.
In this case certainly death was very rapid.

But what renders the name of this snake so
dreaded by Europeans and natives alike is the
certainty that death must ensue from the
injection of its venom. In the cases of nearly
all other poisonous reptiles, such, for instance,
as the puff-adder and, in some cases, I believe,
the African cobra, the bites of these creatures
are often, but by no means always, followed by
a fatal result ; but the mamba is more thorough,
and from the punctures of its fangs there is no
escape.

The head of this serpent is small, as, indeed,
is the girth of its entire body. The poison,
contained in glands above and on each side of
the root of the tongue, is injected through two

274 THE SNAKES

hollow fangs which, in the act of striking, are
thrown forward in the jaw and_ project
momentarily from itt On the reptile’s head
recovering itself after the blow, these fangs fly
back, and are restored to their normal position
pointing to the back of the throat. I do not
think that the natives of Zambezia extract and
utilise snake poison as is done in other parts of
the continent and elsewhere for the poisoning of
arrows and other unpleasant purposes, nor are
they aware of any special remedies for snake-
bite such as have made quite a small reputation
for themselves in certain parts of South Africa.
They certainly apply messy-looking decoctions
of herbs to the part bitten, but I should, I fear,
have but little faith in the efficacy of their
ministrations in case of necessity.

The Python, compared with the form we have
just been considering, is a comparatively innocent
and harmless creature, although perhaps he may
not look it. Pythons in Zambezia, especially in
Shupanga Forest, in Cheringoma, and in some of
the rocky streamways of Gorongoza, grow to
great and impressive size; one shot by me some
years ago on the Mudi stream near Blantyre, in
the Nyasaland Protectorate, measuring a little
over 20 feet in length by possibly 30 inches in
girth at the thickest point. Pythons love cool,
dim forest, or rocky, mountainous surroundings,
and are rarely found very far from water. I
remember seeing one swimming strongly and well
in the Zambezi River a little above Mozambique

1 By means of opening the jaws to their widest extent.

THE SNAKES 275

Island in the Lupata Gorge. From time to time
it immersed itself completely, but the greater
part of the distance over which I traced it the
head was held clear of the surface. On land
they are slow and, unlike the mambas, move
apparently at the expense of no little effort ;
but they delight in water, wherein they spend a
great portion of their time, and whence they
seize and capture no small proportion of their
prey. These creatures are not unhandsome in
appearance, and stand at the head of the seventy
per cent. or so of African snakes which possess
no venom. They kill their prey entirely by |
constriction. It consists of small animals, birds,
and, at times it must be confessed, children.
I never heard of a full-grown man or woman
being taken by a python, but I have actually
conversed with the parents of a small child who
met his death near a village in the Barué from this
cause. They informed me that the poor little
creature, who used to play all day long at a reed-
bordered stream which flowed past their village,
was one day missed and the inhabitants turned
out to search for him. The quest continued for
nearly two days, when a large gorged python
was discovered concealed in a reed-patch. It
was killed without difficulty and the body of the
missing child, already a mass of decomposition,
was removed from it. Ordinarily, however, I
do not think it is usual for any animal larger
than a duiker or small reedbuck to be found in a
python. Once seized, the great snake rapidly
coils itself round the victim’s body and proceeds

276 THE SNAKES

gradually and methodically to squeeze the life
out of it. Just how long this dreadful process
takes must depend largely upon the age and
vitality of the creature caught, but I do not
suppose many minutes would elapse before the
unrecognisably crushed form was ready for the
gradual process of deglutition. The python
can, of course, in lean times, abstain from food
without apparent serious consequences for many
months at a time; but how long it takes him
to get rid of a good-sized animal by the process
of digestion I am unable to say. Certain it is,
however, that while thus gorged he is wholly
helpless, and may fall a victim to one or several
of many enemies, foremost among which are the
mungooses and those terrible insects the driver
ants. I have heard the natives say that pythons,
before embarking on the risks inseparable from
one of their periodical feasts, will quarter the
country for days to assure themselves that there
are no drivers, holding these frightful creatures
apparently in the greatest dread. How this
interesting practice has been ascertained I have,
of course, no means of knowing, but it is some-
what curious that both in East and West Africa
the story is believed. In their ungorged and
therefore presumably hungry condition pythons,
although not difficult to capture, assume at times
an extremely unpleasant not to say threatening
aspect as, with head raised and thrown back and
the uncomfortable-looking inward curved teeth
displayed, they regard one with sinister glance and
low menacing hiss.

THE SNAKES 277

Although they invariably retreat before man
with all the small amount of celerity which Nature
has bestowed upon them, these reptiles are by no
means averse to taking up their abode in the
vicinity of human habitations, being doubtless
attracted thereto by the fowls and domestic ani-
mals, which afford them a moderate certainty of
plenty with a minimum of effort. Dogs, cats, and
fowls begin then mysteriously to disappear, and
continue to do so until the marauder is discovered,
probably in the space between the flooring boards
and the ground without which few houses in the
interior ot Africa are considered to be properly
built. If the new-comer should unguardedly ask
what this ill-devised space is for he will probably
be contemptuously told that it is for fresh air and
ventilation, and will retire feeling rather crushed.
If this should be the case, all I can say is that the
advantages mentioned must be obtained at no
small cost, for I find as a rule that little by little
this ventilation space degenerates into a squalid
rubbish-heap, the happy hunting ground of rats,
snakes, cockroaches, and specimens of many
species of the countless types of spiteful and
noxious vermin with which poor Africa has been
so richly—so undeservedly—endowed.

Exactly what is the amount of constriction
which pythons can exert is not known. Oc-
casionally they are disturbed in this portion of the
preparations for their melancholy feast, and more
than once the victim has been snatched from their
jaws in the very nick of time. I think it was my
old friend Pére Torrens of the Franciscan Mission

19

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280 PUFF-ADDERS

appearance of the poison as it leaves the cobra’s
mouth is similar to that which would be presented
by a tiny jet of colourless fluid projected with
great force from a hypodermic syringe.

Another extremely unpleasant and _ very
common type of reptile is the somewhat sluggish
but very venomous Puff-adder. These semi-
torpid, rather prettily marked creatures only
achieve a length of about 3 feet, but are broad
and corpulent in proportion. Their venom is said
to be only occasionally fatal to human beings, but
is probably invariably so to the small mammals
and batrachians which form its staple diet. They
are very fond of taking refuge from the cold in
travellers’ clothing and blankets, in the folds of
the tent curtain, or any corner which promises
warmth and shelter. They love to lie extended
in native paths and game tracks, and administer
—if nothing worse—many a shock to the nerves
of human beings advancing, it may be, somewhat
carelessly through the bush. I suppose their
powers of hearing must be poor, and thus they
are, unlike other reptiles, unaware of the approach
of an intruder until he is close at hand, when they
utter a low threatening hiss and strike, if the
opportunity present itself, with lightning speed
and serious result. More than once in my
African outhouses I have had unexpected and
extremely unwelcome meetings with puff-adders,
one of which succeeded in striking me, but luckily
on a thick leather shooting-boot. Dogs fre-
quently fall victims to their bites. A very hand-
some, well-bred Irish terrier belonging to a friend

OTHER REPTILES 281

of mine at Beira was killed by a puff-adder
during an evening stroll; he lived some hours
afterwards but, in spite of every effort and the
ministrations of two doctors, finally succumbed.
In another instance a very smart little pony, the
property of a Swiss gentleman of my acquaintance
at Quelimane, met with a similar fate from the
same cause.

There are one or two other venomous adders
of smaller size which are capable of inflicting
painful and dangerous if seldom fatal bites.

In the Nyasaland Protectorate, however, and
doubtless in parts of the adjoining Portuguese
Sphere, there is the persistent rumour of an
arboreal snake which the natives certainly regard
with such dread that nothing would induce them
to go within a long distance of their reputed
haunts. I refer to this creature, I must confess,
with some diffidence, for an allusion to it con-
tained in one of my previous books was received
with so much wonder, not to say amusement, that
it almost cost me my reputation for seriousness ;
but, let doubters and cavillers say what they
will, I am nevertheless satisfied, first from the
unanimity of detail with which native report
describes the creature, and secondly from the
statements made to me by a cautious Scots
cleric on the subject, that this reptile exists, and
that one day his scientific name, almost as long
and far more unsightly than his stuffed carcase,
will be duly chronicled in the list of African
reptiles.

The snake in question would appear to be

282 THE ‘‘ SONGO”

something akin to our conception of the cocka-
trice, and is said to possess a red comb upon its
head, and to have the unusual power of pro-
ducing, at will a curious melancholy, metallic
cry. A description given to me many years ago
by the Rev. D. C. Ruffelle-Scott of the Church
of Scotland Mission, than whom no more
scrupulously accurate person ever entered
Nyasaland, of an experience in the course of
which he caught sight of one of these creatures,
was that of a snake of bright green colour, not
more than 7 or 8 feet long, but of great and
almost disproportionate girth, which moved
through the branches with wonderful speed, and
successfully stampeded every carrier who
accompanied him. My informant was unable
to vouch for the comb upon the reptile’s head,
not did he hear its not unmusical cry, but he was
fully convinced during the remainder of his life
that this was the semi-legendary tree snake so
firmly believed in by the Nyasaland natives
from the north of Lake Nyasa to the most
southerly boundary of that fascinating colony.

In his book, Nyasaland under the Foreign
Office, Mr. H. L. Duff mentions having heard the
cry of some creature which his terrified servants
assured him was that of the ‘‘ Songo,” a serpent
*“‘ with a head like a cock,” and he adds that all
the natives in the district of Livingstonia pro-
fessed the greatest dread of the creature ; whilst,
if further prima facie evidence be wanting, he
tells us that a Mr. Murray of the Livingstonia
Mission informed him that a native stated to

LIZARDS 283

have been struck by a ‘“‘Songo” was on one
occasion admitted to the Mission, where he died
shortly afterwards in great agony.

I myself have on several occasions found my
natives refuse to proceed in a given direction
across country for the same reason, namely,
that it was the haunt of the “Songo.” More
than once I have left them behind, and alone and
unaccompanied have endeavoured to solve the
mystery surrounding this snake, but, unhappily,
without success. For all that, however, I am
convinced that there is foundation for the per-
sistent reports of this creature's existence, and I
confess that I would give much to have an
opportunity of clearing the matter up.

Zambezia contains numerous lizards, the
largest of which, commonly called the iguana,
reaches at times to a length of 4 or 5 feet. This
creature is more or less amphibious, and is
never found very far from water. There are,
in addition, several very beautifully coloured
lizards, foremost among which the agama,
brilliant in blue and vellow, and the grey and
olive green rock lizards, bask all day in the hot
sunshine. Then there are the large-headed
arboreal geckos, scarcely distinguishable from
the bark of the trees up which they dart, and
many others.

Land and water tortoises are fairly numerous,
and greatly liked by the natives as articles of
food. Great care should be exercised in handling
the latter, as they are vicious creatures, and can
administer a terrible bite.

CHAPTER XIII

RIFLES : AMMUNITION : CAMP EQUIPMENT:
GENERAL HINTS

On a hunting expedition of whatsoever duration
the choice of suitable arms, ammunition, and
camp equipment must always be the chief factor
in the success or failure of the enterprise, and
although in other and more detailed works on
the subject than this can claim to be the subject
has been ably dealt with, improvements, never-
theless, succeed each other nowadays with such
rapidity that what is dernier cri to-day may
easily be outclassed to-morrow.

Few persons who have not paid the price of
experience on one or more protracted African
journeys either of business or pleasure realise
the importance of the little things which mean
so much when one is far from the last centre
where they could have been procured; and
certainly fewer still of those who have antici-
pated with satisfaction a period of unshaven,
uncollared freedom, and the reputed joys of
“roughing it,” would believe how seldom these
joys as such prolong themselves beyond the first
week or so, and how much more rarely after the
first sharp attack of fever. And so, in addition
to descanting to the best of my knowledge upon

284

FIREARMS 285

the more indispensable elements, I shall en-
deavour, from recollections of the occasions
when I myself wished that I had them, to in-
corporate a few remarks upon what 1 can only
refer to en masse as those precious little things
which matter so much.

The question of firearms leads one insensibly
to cast a backward glance at the astonishing
evolution of the modern arm which has taken
place within the recollection of contemporary
hunters. Writing as recently as 1890, Sir
Samuel Baker recommended to persons con-
templating a hunting expedition to Africa a
battery consisting of two double-barrelled 8-bore
rifles, firing a charge of 14 drams of black powder
and a three-ounce bullet of hardened metal.
One of these was to be the rifle for every-day use—
the sort of little toy that the sportsman would
pick lightly up and tuck under his arm when he
went for a stroll whilst his meal was being got
ready; but did he require anything really
formidable, something capable of administering
a still greater shock, his attention was directed
to a single-barrelled rifle “‘ weighing 22 lbs.,” and
sighted most accurately to 400 yards. This
frightful weapon, designed to be fired if necessary
from a tripod, was built to carry a half-pound
steel shell containing a bursting charge of half
an ounce of fine grain powder, and the propelling
charge was SIXTEEN DRAMS of black powder.

Turning from these appalling pieces of
ordnance of almost the other day, and glancing
through an illustrated catalogue of modern

286 FIREARMS

high velocity arms, the rapidity with which, step
by step, the present light, powerful, perfectly
balanced and accurately sighted rifle has been
reached is comparable only to the astonishing
improvement in the ammunition of the present
day. Naturally the preponderating amount of
credit for this truly marvellous result is accorded
quite justly to the persevering gunmaker ; but
no small share in the responsibility is due to quite
another person, namely, to the man who buys
and uses the arm when completed, and whose
experiences with it enable him to offer sug-
gestions for future embodiment in a more perfect
weapon.

Twenty years ago, the expresses and the old
Martini °450 were just being superseded by the
smaller, lighter, handier Lee-Metford. Men of
my acquaintance who had shot for years with
heavy, punishing express rifles of -400, -450, 500,
and °577 were amazed at the accuracy and pene-
tration of the neat, comparatively tiny ‘303
cartridge, and its success as a sporting arm was
rapid and overwhelming. The immense advan-
tage of cordite as a propulsive force was at once
understood and appreciated. The practical
elimination of the old cumbersome back-sight by
the flat trajectory afforded by the use of the new
powder was in itself an unhoped for revelation.
What did it matter whether the beast stood at
100 or 150 or 200 yards ? One fixed sight and a
straight-held rifle were capable of doing all that
had previously demanded anxious and accurate
estimates of distances and a careful adjustment of

FIREARMS 287

sights thereafter. Then think of the unaccus-
tomed absence of smoke; of having no longer,
after a shot in the damp, hanging mists of early
morning, to peer anxiously through the smoky
curtain beyond which, for all you knew to the
contrary, an enraged beast might be in the act of
furiously charging. No, the introduction of cor-
dite marked an epoch as important in its way as
those which transformed flintlock into percussion,
or the insertion of the charge from the muzzle to
the breech.

But we have advanced so far along the road
towards perfection in firearms that many have
perhaps overlooked the fact that what led to the
crowning triumph of the gunmaker’s art which is
placed in our hands to-day was not the study of
rifling or barrel construction, but the perfecting,
after years of heart-breaking experiment, of the
modern elongated bullet. The first really suc-
cessful bullet for fairly long ranges was, I suppose,
the old Martini -450. It was as superior to the
Snider, which it practically put out of business,
as was the latter to the projectile used in the old
Brown Bess. By its apparently disproportionate
length it was not only more satisfactorily gripped
by the barrel than was the shorter bullet, but
enabled considerable and important modifications
to be made in the rifling itself. Since it made
its appearance we have had all sorts of extra-
ordinary bullets invented, some almost as long
as a waistcoat-pocket pencil, some pointed and
some hollow-pointed, some copper-capped and
some lead-nosed, but never have any of these

288 CHOICE OF WEAPONS

sacrificed by so much as an iota the length of body
which conferred upon them their immense range,
flat trajectory, and tremendous muzzle velocity.
It is, I think, no small stride to have increased
within living memory the flight of a rifle bullet
from the 1650 feet per second of the old ‘577
express, to the 3500 feet per second of the modern
cordite-propelled projectile; and although it is as
unsafe as it is undesirable to dogmatise upon a
matter such as this, where constant experiment
aims at still higher things, it is perhaps probable
that, in point of killing efficiency, the game rifle
of to-day is almost as near perfection as it is
destined to reach.

Glancing now at the question of the arms with
which shooting in Africa should to-day be under-
taken, it is, of course, difficult if not impossible to
lay down any definite rule. Opinion upon these
points is extremely divided, and a weapon which
in the hands of one man would prove all that was
desired, might in those of another be found dis-
appointingly ineffective. Still, generally speak-
ing, in the selection of a battery the following
elementary considerations should be carefully
borne in mind. First of all the character of the
game likely to be encountered. In the case of
beasts of dangerous type and great vitality, it is
obviously essential to be provided with at least
one weapon which combines great penetration
with tremendous shock. Penetration alone, in
the cases ot animals from which a charge may be
expected, is by no means the only quality for
which to bargain ; what is far more necessary is

CHOICE OF WEAPONS 289

the power to inflict a smashing, demoralising blow
capable of removing from the beast struck the
smallest interest in subsequent events. To effect
this it is essential that the bullet should remain in
its body, and not pass completely through it. If
it remain within, the entire propulsive force be-
hind it is felt by the creature against which it is
directed ; but should it penetrate the resisting
body and pass on beyond it, threading its way
through the unresisting flesh like a needle, the
power which forces it through follows it, and is
entirely wasted. To deal with this problem,
especially in the cases of beasts of thin skin and
great vitality, a variety of bullets have been
invented capable of satisfactorily coping with any
of them: solid and nickel-covered for hard-skinned
animals of large size; hollow-pointed and side-
split for thin-skinned ruminants and the large
carnivora; and a variety of others too numerous
to mention, from the sharp-nosed speciality of the
‘280 Ross rifle, to the copper-capped deadliness
of this and the various forms of Mauser and
others.

But a consideration of great importance, and
one which should in no case be lost sight of, is
that of the weight of the weapon considered in
relation to the physique of the individual by whom
it is to be used. Clearly a heavy double rifle, such
as many still in use, would greatly and painfully
tax the powers of a small man of strength below
the average, and might so weary him that at the
crucial moment his powers of using it might be
insufficient for the purpose. Double-barrelled

290 CHOICE OF WEAPONS

rifles, except in the case of the small, handy
double :808, are usually heavy by reason of the
great reinforcement required at the breech ; but
I have always used them in preference to arms of
the light magazine type, for I have held the opinion
that, no matter how many cartridges your maga-
zine may contain, the hunter armed with his
double weapon is the better armed of the two.
He has two shots in the delivery of which he can
be as deliberate or as rapid as he chooses. There
is no occasion for hurry as in the case of the
magazine, and, to me, the most important con-
sideration of all is that your second shot is
delivered without the loss of a moment, or at
times without disturbing the alignment which
follows the necessary removal of the magazine
rifle from the shoulder. I cannot, moreover,
refrain from the view that, in the case of young
and excitable men, the consciousness of a maga-
zine full of cartridges upon which to draw pro-
duces a carelessness which may simply wound
instead of cleanly killing, and may permanently
impair the individual’s shooting.

Personally, I have always proceeded on the
principle of furnishing myself with one good,
sound, all-round rifle, and holding a heavier second
in reserve in case of emergency, and I think my
views in this regard coincide with those of most of
my contemporaries. For a long time my battery
consisted of a double ‘303 by Holland & Holland,
which I found, during the fourteen years it re-
mained in my possession, an absolutely perfect
model of precision of workmanship. This, with

CHOICE OF WEAPONS 291

a double *500 express, and backed by a double
8-bore firing a bullet of 1164 grains of solid lead,
propelled by 10 drams of black powder, constituted
my collection of rifles for big-game shooting, and
they were supplemented by a good, stoutly built
shot-gun and a rook-rifle for small antelope and
large birds impenetrable to shot. In course of
time I discarded the ‘308 for the -450 cordite,
a magnificent weapon, and capable of dealing
effectively with any animal on earth. This, how-
ever, I found extremely heavy to carry, and, in
my final journey, I found that, so remarkably
had the craft of the gunsmith advanced, I was en-
abled to effect the most satisfactory results with a
double :375. If I should again hunt big game in
Africa, I would only take two rifles, a double
°850 and a double ‘500, and these I have no
hesitation in recommending to any one who may
be contemplating a journey into the interior for
sporting purposes. It is some years now since
I used my old 8-bore, and I do not think, con-
sidering the immense power of the °500 cordite
rifle, that I should feel inclined to subject myself
again to its appreciable recoil ; but for all that I
have a keen recollection of the comfort I have
derived from the consciousness, in moments of
uncertainty, that it was ready at my back, neither
am I unmindful that on one occasion at least the
old 8-bore undoubtedly relieved me from a situa-
tion of some precariousness. Let it not, however,
be forgotten that the weapon weighed something
over 19 lbs., and required some strength of fore-
arm for its effective use.

292 AMMUNITION

Ammunition must be fresh. I do not know
whether the last year may have produced a cor-
dite impervious to the considerable variations
of temperature inseparable from the African
climate, but I fear not. That the efficiency of
one’s cordite ammunition is thus varied there can
be no shadow of doubt, in fact I have had occasion
to observe it on more occasions than one. I
would, therefore, impress upon new-comers—and
some old ones for the matter of that—the ad-
visability of conveying as much of the stock of
cartridges as possible in their original stout tin-
lined ammunition case. On hunting days a
sufficiency may be taken out for conveyance in
the belts or bags, but on return the remaining
rounds should be at once replaced in their original
shelter, and not left lying about in the sun, or
exposed to unnecessary heat. For road journeys,
involved by the shifting of camp, enough am-
munition can readily be stowed away in the
pockets, or in a small cartridge bag, for all prob-
able contingencies ; but a most important con-
sideration, and one I fear too frequently neglected,
is the golden rule, not of keeping your powder
dry, but of keeping your cordite cool.

Shot-gun ammunition is not nearly so sus-
ceptible to temperature, even when loaded with
the now almost universally used nitro powders.
A few hundreds of these should be taken loaded
with No. 3, No. 6, and AAA shot, the last
mentioned in wire cages. Of the three sizes
mentioned No. 6 should predominate, for the
excellent dove shooting which is often obtainable.

GUN CLEANING 293

I make it a rule, although 1 am afraid it is one
which will not commend itself to many, of in-
veriably cleaning my firearms myself at the end
of the day’s shooting. I do not believe the
African native hunter or gun-bearer, be his abili-
ties and excellences as a tracker and skinner
what they may, can ever be safely entrusted with
this all-important task. The unpleasant ex-
perience of a friend of mine which befell him
through his failure to observe this practice is a
valuable object lesson. He had got up to
buffaloes in swampy ground—fifteen or twenty of
them—and had severely wounded a large bull.
He pressed aside the top lever of his double :400
to reload the discharged chamber when the
barrels dropped off the stock, muzzle downward,
of course, into a foot of mud. The missing fore-
end was discovered on his empty-handed return
to camp. His gun-bearer, who had been en-
trusted over night with the cleaning of the rifle,
had forgotten to replace it at the end of that
operation, with consequences which might have
been most serious. When it is remembered that
the morning start for most successful hunting
days takes place by starlight, it will easily be
understood how it was that the absence of the
fore-end remained undetected.

In cleaning cordite rifles it is a good plan to
use plenty of boiling water to wash out the
barrels, dissolving about a quarter of an ounce of
bicarbonate of soda to the quart of water. In
applying this mixture, it is not always enough to
pour it through, and allow it to run out at the

20

294 GUN CLEANING—PISTOLS

muzzle end; a very effective means of neutral-
ising the corrosive gas of which cordite fumes
consists being to cork up the muzzle, fill the
barrels with the boiling solution of soda, and stir
for a few seconds with a cleaning rod. This will
satisfactorily remove all deleterious influences
before the drying and greasing of the metal sur-
face. Many lubricants are sold, as a rule at high
prices, expressly to counteract corrosion in cor-
dite rifles ; but this expense may be avoided, and
precisely the same result attained by stirring a
dram of bicarbonate of soda into an ounce of
ordinary vaseline with a flexibly bladed knife,
and applying the mixture to the steelwork after
washing it thoroughly as I have described. It
should be remembered that as a rule the first shot
from a well-cleaned rifle barrel is apt to travel a
trifle higher than those which follow. Finally,
when hunting, always see that one or other of
your native companions is provided with an
efficient cleaning rod.

I am a great believer in having in the tent at
night a good serviceable, heavy revolver or
automatic pistol. If predatory forms should
take it into their heads to pay one a visit, it is
much more quickly and quietly grasped in the
confined, canvas-bounded space than a long
cumbrous rifle, and its effect may be quite as
satisfactory ; but let me not be understood as
advocating the use for this purpose of the small,
silver-mounted, pearl-handled toys which I have
seen in the possession of some hunters; these
may be well enough for production in the exciting

CAMP EQUIPMENT 295

scenes of a modern drama, and may satisfactorily
cause the deaths of many persons to whom the
knowledge of their use is but imperfect, but for
Africa you want at least a °450 Webley, or a
‘455 automatic Webley & Scott. With either of
these admirable and powerful weapons at hand
he would be a nervous person indeed whose sleep
was affected by dread of night prowlers.

We will now pass to the consideration of the
camp equipment, the proper selection of which is
so indispensable to comfort, and consequently
to the preservation of health. Tents to-day can
be obtained at a dozen great emporia, and there
is perhaps little to say upon this subject on the
whole. I suppose most persons who have used
them will agree that the most satisfactory of
all is that excellently designed speciality of
Benjamin Edgington of London Bridge. In
1906 this maker manufactured for me a small
one-man tent, the measurements of which were
7 ft. by 6 ft. 6 in. It was an ordinary double-
roofed ridge tent, but made with that regard for
lightness and efficiency for which Edgington
tents are now so well known. This, with fly,
poles of brass-jointed bamboo, pegs, mallet and
cover weighed when dry only 55 lbs., and was
therefore a reasonable load for one carrier. The
curtain was made to lace up at each corner, a
great advantage, which enabled admission to be
afforded to the breeze no matter from which
direction it blew. About a dozen stout hooks
were firmly sewn on to the walls at each side, and
were of immense use for hanging up all sorts of

296 TENTS

things out of the way of the various insect pests
which get into them if thrown upon the floor,
whilst, in addition to the extra large curtain
pockets, other smaller receptacles were furnished
upon the ceiling and doors ; the ventilator spaces
were mosquito-proofed, and the strap-hooks for
use on the tent-poles were of superior pattern and
very serviceable.

For two men, however, and no hunting
expedition should ever consist of more, a larger
abode would, of course, have to be provided—l
should think one measuring about 11 ft. by 9 ft.
This would be much heavier than that already
described, and furnish loads for two men at
least, with a trifle lett over to be added to the
burden of some lightly laden carrier.

For my own part, for many years past I have
made it a rule to hunt unaccompanied by any
other European, and I fancy many experienced
hunters will agree with me that the most satis-
factory sport is thus obtained. Many have
said to me, “Oh, but surely you would enjoy
it much more if you had company—somebody
to chat to in the evenings. How dreadfully
dull you must find it by yourself!’ To this I
reply that if you are keen you have no time to
be dull or bored during any portion of the trip.
You are, as a rule, on the move from before dawn
to nightfall. You turn in gladly about 8.0 p.m.
You have a more or less numerous retinue of
dusky followers, whose welfare both of body and
mind engrosses you. Should you be acquainted
with their dialect (or dialects) you have a rich

HUNTING COMPANIONS 297

store of amusement in gaining your people’s
confidence, and learning the many useful and
entertaining lessons of woodcraft and folk-lore
which these good-natured children of the wilds
delight to teach you, and, finally, you are face
to face with Nature at her grandest and most
impressive. If any other reason were wanting,
it would be found in the fact of the extreme
rarity of a really congenial and at the same time
hard-working fellow-sportsman. You may meet
a man in town or country at home three hundred
and sixty-five times during the year, and feel
that he is the most delightful person of your
acquaintance. So he may be so long as he
remains at home. But let him be your sole
daily companion for a number of months in the
interior of Africa, and if your friendship con-
tinue unimpaired yours is of a truth a rare enough
ease. I will not say more than this; but every
man who has hunted or travelled with a com-
panion of his own nationality and colour in
the surroundings I am endeavouring to describe,
will immediately comprehend my meaning, and
realise to the full the difficult situations which
so constantly arise. My advice, therefore, to
persons contemplating hunting in pairs is to
make separate camps, wide enough apart to
render unlikely any encroachment of the one
into the country shot over by the other. Meet-
ings may take place once a week or oftener,
when there will be far more to discuss than would
arise if the association remained unbroken
throughout. In these circumstances each man

298 CAMP FURNITURE

would, of course, require a small tent of dimensions
similar to the first described by me.

Camp equipment has now come to be so
specialised that a very large choice awaits the
prospective purchaser. There are numberless
different systems of folding furniture, a be-
wildering selection of folding chairs and tables,
and as for canteens of cooking utensils, their
name is legion. But of all the systems with
which in past years I have provided myself,
that known as the X patent camp folding
furniture is the most desirable and satisfactory.
A selection of necessary articles comprises an ex-
cellent and really comfortable folding bed, with
strong, yet light, wooden mosquito frame made of
jointed hard wood, the sections secured together
by means of short chains, and therefore not liable
to be lost; a capital folding table, so contrived
that the green canvas top is stretched by means
of wooden slats, folding when not in use into a
neat roll round the legs, which are carried inside
it. These, with a combined green canvas bath
and wash-stand, and a Rhoorkee chair, are all
that one need actually take in the way of furni-
ture ; but should expense be no object, there are
other small refinements designed upon the same
system which no doubt go far to rob life in the
wilds of many of the inconveniences inseparable
from it. A reliable ground sheet should be of the
same size as the floor of the tent when pitched,
and a small piece of carpet, about 2 feet square,
is a very comforting article to stand upon when
changing one’s stockings or removing or putting

MOSQUITO CURTAINS 299

on one’s clothing. At the time of year in which
hunting is pursued the nights are intensely cold,
and the contact of a bare foot with the chilly
waterproof ground sheet is by no means pleasant.

The mosquito curtain, of which two should
be provided, is most efficient when made of the
finest green net, and none but those of the
smallest mesh should on any account be selected.
There are many small insect pests in addition
to mosquitoes against which it is necessary to
guard, and among the worst of these is a tiny
so-called sand-fly which seems to be endowed
with a specially unpleasing power of penetrating
mosquito curtains. If, however, by any lament-
able oversight the net selected should not prove
impervious to this pest, his attentions may often
be checkmated by using the two nets together,
one over the other. But in the provision of these
necessary adjuncts to comfort, care should be
taken as to the method of weighting them. The
most efficient nets are those of which about ten
or twelve inches repose upon the floor all round.
At the bottom there should be a piping about
the thickness of a black-lead pencil, but divided
into small chambers 2 inches long and about
6 apart, and these should be filled with shot in
such a manner that the netting lies evenly upon
the ground sheet, and no portion of it is raised
in the smallest degree above its surface. If the
shot are not thus divided into compact little
chambers, it speedily displays a tendency to run
together, with the result that while the curtain
round the foot of the bed may be properly

300 BEDDING

weighted, the further extremity may be in the
air, affording ingress to all sorts of undesirable
bedfellows.

The bedding and pillows should be carried in
one of those admirable waterproof canvas con-
trivances called a Wolseley valise, than which
nothing yet devised is ‘‘ just as good.”” Made of
stout impermeable canvas, it safely contains
your three double Witney blankets, two pairs of
sheets, and two pillows with their cases, and can
be made to hold, in addition to your pyjamas,
all sorts of odds and ends of clothing. On one
occasion a Wolseley valise which had accom-
panied me on my travels for many years was
actually dropped fairly into the Zambezi River,
but upon being opened was found to have ad-
mitted so little water that it was scarcely necessary
to dry anything. Care should be taken in the
selection of pillow cases, which should be of the
finest linen, and at least one pillow should be of
the comfortable feather variety. I have found
that the restfulness afforded by these in com-
parison to harder and less sympathetic stuffing,
especially in cases of slight feverish headache, or
other unimportant if troublesome ailments, has
been very real.

An immense boon to the traveller on its
introduction was the aluminium bucket canteen.
This, in extraordinarily light and most portable
form, contains every necessary for culinary and
table use, from frying-pans, saucepans, and meat
dishes to plates, cups and saucers, condiment
boxes, knives, forks, and spoons. But although

AVOIDANCE OF “ ROUGHING IT” 301

the table contents of these excellent contrivances
are all that may be regarded as strictly necessary,
they are by no means calculated, for several
reasons, to please the jaded senses of the tired
and it may be feverish wayfarer when translated
from the depths of the well-devised canteen to
ordinary use on the folding camp table. Their
capable but unlovely metal plates, which speedily
show knife-marks that fill with grease and dirt ;
their cups; their unappetising knives and forks
and spoons; their sauce and condiment boxes
and bottles, all of which are guilty of undue
intimacy with each other, resulting in a general
intermingling of each other’s contents, all these
things completely divest the camp table of the
neatness and prettiness which are never so highly
appreciated as when they form a striking contrast
to rough and ready surroundings.

Some few years ago I wrote a book’ upon
another portion of the Portuguese Province of
Mozambique, in which what the press were pleased
to call my sybaritic methods aroused much good-
natured chaff among my friends both at home and
abroad. I do not know if that book was the first
actively to advocate decency in camp life, and
the avoidance of what is called ‘“ roughing it,”
but this I do know, that the perusal of my views
on the subject, and the surprising simplicity of
my methods as described therein, gained me
many imitators, among whom I number at least
one whose relish for living in the wilds more like
a native than a civilised being. had procured for

1 Portuguese East Africa.

802 TABLE ARRANGEMENT

him, to say the least of it, an unsavoury reputation.
But, as I have so frequently stated and written,
no pains should be spared to provide in the camp
as attractive and well-laid a table as one would
sit down to at home, with clean glass, snowy-
white linen, and well-cleaned, glittering silver.
All that is required at first is a little system and
supervision ; by dint of these, and servants of
average intelligence, the “ butler’s department ”’
should soon run by itself.

There is probably nothing more nausea-
provoking than certain stages of low fever and
what is called sun-headache, the latter being
possibly a more successful robber of appetite
than anything of the kind with which I am ac-
quainted. But it is precisely in succumbing to
disinclination to eat that the demon of fever is
usually invoked. Yet whilst in this state—one,
be it remembered, in which practically everybody
visiting the country sooner or later finds himself—
can you not imagine the difference awakened in
your feelings by the contemplation of a disgusting
metal plate of greasy soup, with a drowned cock-
roach and several feathers floating in it, reposing
upon the dirty bottom of an upturned provision
case on the one hand, and on the other a neatly
laid table with its well-washed cloth, clean
tumblers and nicely polished china? To ensure
these advantages all days and every day is a
matter of the greatest ease, and one which should
be the aim of every traveller who values his health
and his hopes of success.

A case should be provided called the “ service

PROVISION CASES 303

box,” which, in addition to crockery and glasses,
should contain all the bottles and tins of provisions
actually in use. For the plates and dishes
wooden battens are nailed across it sufficiently far
apart to contain them standing immovably on
edge, one in front of the other, whilst for the wine-
glasses and tumblers a small wooden box fitted
with a lid, large enough to hold the required
number, is secured by means of screws to the
bottom of the service box, and divisions of the
well-known soft, brown, tubular packing-paper,
if possible lined in turn with rather a thick layer
of cotton wool, contrived just wide enough to
divide them from each other. This small box
can thus be made to convey in complete safety
all glassware, including candle-lamp glasses.
Leather holders are disposed round the interior
for the reception of knives, forks, and spoons,
while the centre, also divided into compartments
of varying size, can be made to accommodate
rigidly the open tins, bottles, and the cruet, the
whole being covered in by the soft folds of the
table-cloths and dinner napkins.

The provision cases themselves should be of
that special light wood provided by Messrs.
Lawn & Alder of Brackley Street, Golden Lane,
E.C., who know exactly what to provide in the
nature of expedition commisssariat, and also how
to pack it. Their provision cases combine great
strength with phenomenal lightness, and are often
made in nests of three or four so that as they are
emptied they can thus be carried one inside the
other. I do not think, however, that this ad-

804 MISCELLANEOUS EQUIPMENT

vantage counterbalances the added weight of the
empty case. In my experience I have found it
preferable to purchase cases of one size, namely,
2 ft. by 14 ft. by 1 ft. For two persons hunting
together about ten such cases would be required,
which should be numbered consecutively, and it
is a good plan for each person to possess a numeri-
cal roll of them containing an exact inventory of
the contents of each. At the end of the day’s
march, after the selection ot the camping ground,
the head servant should be required to train the
carriers before retiring to their shelters to set the
cases down facing the tents in numerical order
with padlocks to the front. This practice, into
which the men rapidly fall, saves much trouble
and delay when something is wanted in a hurry
after darkness has fallen.

The camp should be lighted by those excellent
wind-proof candle-lamps known as the ““Punkah,”’
for which several spare glasses and tops should be
taken. These must be provided with composite
candles, not wax, on account of the latter’s well-
known tendency to soften and run into all sorts of
shapes on exposure to the smallest heat. For
purposes other than those connected with the
table, folding tin candle lanterns with tale slides
are the best.

For use in standing camps, two or three large
canvas buckets will be found most useful, as
also several canvas water-bags of various sizes.
Two of these latter should be of a size cap-
able of holding two gallons of water, ‘and be
furnished with a small tap for drawing off the

STANDING CAMPS 305

liquid without undue disturbance. They are
filled daily with boiled and filtered water, for
which purpose one of the portable Berkfield
“Traveller’s ” filters should be provided. As
the contents ooze very slightly through the
texture of the canvas and meet the breeze
outside, the water is cooled to a degree which
persons unacquainted with the practice would
scarcely believe possible. For the road, or the
hunt, the best water-flask is that made of
aluminium covered with felt, holding about a
quart, and with a strap to sling it over a native’s
shoulder.

Of course, when a stay of several days is made
in one locality, much may be done to heighten the
comfort of the traveller’s surroundings. For in-
stance, a pleasant, shady site for the tent having
been selected, the fly, instead of being employed,
for its normal purpose, can be pitched as a con-
tinuation of the main structure, and as a pro-
longation from the front door. This is done by
cutting a long straight bamboo to serve as a ridge-
pole, and a forked support to hold it horizontally,
the tent-fly being thrown over it and secured by
its own pegs. This affords a separate shelter
under which the whole of the loads may be con-
veniently placed, the centre being large enough
for the chairs, table, and other articles. Here
meals may be partaken of, guns cleaned, and rest
enjoyed without exposure to the nightly annoy-
ance of the heavy dew which is such a striking
feature of the African winter season. In such a
camp as this, for the occasions on which laundry

806 CLOTHING

operations are in progress, a couple of dozen
small spring clothes-pegs are necessities and,
used with the indispensable ball of strong string
to serve as a clothes-line, prevent the linen
from being laid to dry in the grass from which
it is practically certain that it will come back full
of ants, microscopic ticks, and other unpleasant
forms of insect life.

At the height of the winter or dry season, it
is at times necessary, in traversing unusually
waterless portions of the country, to carry a
supply of drinking water sufficient for one
or two days. For this purpose one or more
of the useful, wickered aluminium demijohns
obtainable at Messrs. Lawn & Alder’s and else-
where, are indispensable, and great care should
be taken on no account to permit the key for
a moment to leave your possession.

With regard to clothing, it will be found most
convenient to carry it in a good-sized canvas
lock-up hold-all, which should be absolutely
waterproof in fact as well as in reputation, and
provision must be made for the exigencies of two
distinct climates. There is, to begin with, the
sunny warmth of the daylight hours, when the
thermometer may ascend to 90° or 95°; then
there is the sharp cold of the brilliant starry
nights, when it may easily fall to 45° or lower.
For hunting, marching, or daylight work nothing,
to my mind, is so satisfactory as a shirt or
“jumper”? of improved khaki-coloured, sun-
resisting cloth, about the same thickness as good
quality khaki, the same colour, and worn over

CLOTHING 307

a cotton or silk-and-cotton under-shirt ; with
this a pair of easy buttonless breeches, fashioned
somewhat after the style of football knickers,
of the same material, will be found very com-
fortable, and are secured by a stout belt pro-
vided with a small pouch for carrying a lancet,
a small quantity of permanganate of potassium
in case of snake-bite, and other small neces-
saries. The extremities should be clothed in
putties and light but well-made ankle boots.
The “ jumper ” should be made with a pad 3 or
4 inches wide down the back to protect the spine
from the sun; it should be collarless, provided
with waterproof pockets, and a dozen or so
holders for reserve cartridges. As soon as the
wearer’s arms are able to bear the sun’s rays
without discomfort, he should get out his scissors
from a well-furnished housewife, and cut off
the sleeves above the elbow. Nothing in the
nature of a coat should ever be worn on the
march or in the field, it is entirely unnecessary—
a mere useless encumbrance. For evening wear,
a good hard-wearing suit of stout Harris tweed
is unapproachable, a soft tennis shirt of Viyella
or some similar material, and easy brown leather
ankle boots, which are superior to shoes or
slippers as they keep mosquitoes and sand-flies
from biting your ankles, especially if you stuff
the bottoms of your trousers into the pro-
jecting tops of your socks. A warm, well-lined
overcoat must on no account be forgotten; it
will be required both for ordinary night use in
camp, and also for sitting up over a kill for

308 FOOTWEAR

lions and leopards. Great care should be taken
to provide suitable footwear for marching. I
have in my possession a pair of ankle boots in
which I have traversed on foot nearly 2000
miles of the African continent, and they are quite
capable of carrying me another 500. They were
made by Messrs. M. Wildsmith & Sons of 17
Jermyn Street, and are, I think, the most perfect
marching boots it would be possible to devise.
For circumstances in which exceptional quietness
is indispensable, the hunter can provide him-
self at any place on the East African coast for
the sum of two shillings with a pair of Indian
rope-soled calico shoes of great lightness and
strength, which will be found of great use.
Socks should always be worn with suspenders
to prevent them from working down and chafing
the feet. I have found the most satisfactory
socks for African travel to be those of seamless
natural grey wool, which are not liable to irritate
the skin, and are very absorbent and good. Their
tendency to shrink renders it desirable to supply
more than would usually be necessary; thus,
for a two months’ expedition, I should recommend
not less than two dozen pairs.

An important question is the supply of proper
and well-fitting head-gear. As Zambezia is, on
the whole, a forested country, let no inducement
prevail upon the intending visitor to provide him-
self for travelling or hunting with anything in
the nature of a helmet, in which it is impossible to
stalk properly, to penetrate jungle, or to run.
For these purposes his best, safest, and most

FIELD-GLASSES AND MEDICINES 309

efficient head-covering is the excellent, soft felt
double terai hat. This clings to the head in the
densest undergrowth, and affords the fullest pro-
tection from the sun. On the wider plains, where
at times the heat is rather trying, great relief
may at once be obtained by filling the crown with
fresh green grass or leaves—care being taken to
see that no pernicious insects find their way in at
the same time. For night use, one or two com-
fortable soft caps should be included, and, for
tonsorial purposes, a pair of barber’s hair-clippers.

With regard to the many miscellaneous articles
of equipment with which it is necessary to be
furnished, the importance of a really serviceable
field-glass is difficult to exaggerate. I know
opinions vary upon the best type for the purpose,
but personally I have found that a single Zeiss
reflex glass, magnifying eight diameters, is better
than the binocular glasses now so generally
carried. In appearance the glass I have carried
for some years with the greatest satisfaction looks
like half an ordinary pair of Zeiss glasses, which is
precisely what itis. Carried in a small, neat case,
it is so light that it need never be out of the
hunter’s possession, and comes up to the eye in one
hand much more easily than a pair of glasses, and
never needs readjustment. A reliable compass
may be of great service, as also an electric torch
with one or two spare dry batteries.

Messrs. Burroughs, Wellcome & Company of
Snow Hill, E.C., pack most excellently arranged
and selected medicine chests of very small

dimensions for travellers to any part of the world,
ar

310 CARE OF THE FEET

it being only necessary in ordering to specify
the district it is intended to visit ; but in addition
to the contents of these conveniences it is desirable
to carry a good stock of common Epsom salts for
the needs of the native carriers and servants.

While I am on this subject, let me say a few
words upon that most important of matters, the
care of the feet. This is a duty far too often
relegated to chance, and heavy have been the
penalties which I have seen paid by the careless.
Of course chafes and blisters usually, but not
always, make their appearance after the first or
second long march, and it is, therefore, a good
plan to harden the feet for some days before the
expedition starts. An excellent way of doing this
is to soak them nightly in a bucket of hot water
containing about a pound of common rock salt
and a little alum in solution. The feet should be
immersed when the water is so hot as to be hardly
bearable, and remain therein until it grows cool.
They should be allowed to dry slowly, and not be
wiped with a towel. On starting in the morning
excellent results are also obtained by soaping the
feet all over with a good coating of ordinary
toilet soap and water.

Should, however, blisters make their appearance
in spite of these precautions, and despite most
carefully selected boots and socks, they must at
once be dealt with lest worse befall. In my early
days I was once confined to camp for ten days, and
a shooting trip was completely spoiled, by march-
ing upon a blistered foot, and my case is by no
means a singular one. Ifthe blister be a small one

MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES 311

and unbroken, soaking it in very hot salt and
water two or three times in the course of the
evening will often lead to its absorption ; but if
the skin be broken, or upon the point of break-
ing, the best course is relentlessly to strip it off
and lay bare the flesh beneath. Upon this a
series of cold cloths soaked in a strong solution
of permanganate of potassium should be placed.
The effect of this rather severe treatment is to
produce a new if somewhat discoloured skin on
the tender part, which, with twenty-four hours’
rest, will usually admit of the resumption of the
journey.

For cutting up game several hatchets and large
knives are required. In selecting these, highly
tempered steel is to be avoided, as the softer metal
is the easier to resharpen. The knives which I
usually employ for finishing off and skinning
antelopes are long-bladed cheap knives similar to
those used in the kitchen for cutting hams, sides
of bacon, and joints. They must be provided
with well-fitting leather sheaths, and carried daily
by the gun-bearers. Several pairs of scissors of
different sizes are of great use for all sorts of pur-
poses, whilst needles, buttons, and a supply of
good strong pack-thread must on no account be
omitted.

For the collection of small nocturnal mammals
a few capable steel traps are useful. These on
being set should be secured by a yard or two of
strong brass chain well pegged down; I find
brass better than steel, as it is rust-proof, and
cleaner. Care should be taken to see that they

312 MISCELLANEOUS ARTICLES

are not placed, as the negro left to himself will be
almost certain to deposit them, in the centre of
the native path, or unpleasant results may ensue.
Whilst we are discussing the subject of iron-
mongery, let me strongly recommend the pro-
vision of a hammer, and a pound of one-inch nails.
These are most useful for repairing damage to the
packing cases, strengthening native shelters for
the men, and many other purposes.

Of course, owing to bad weather, fatigue, or
other causes, a day will from time to time be spent
in camp, and therefore, as well as for occasional
unemployed evenings, a few good sound books,
together with note-books and writing materials,
must be included in the personal baggage. For
my own part I always take books relating to the
sport I am following at the moment, as well as
one or two volumes of fairly solid reading ; but
I would impress upon my readers the desirability
of taking nightly the most copious notes of their
experiences. Nothing should be regarded as too
trivial for inclusion in the journey’s record, and
the careful observer will reap a rich harvest in
after years as he slowly turns over the leaves of the
story of his African experiences.

As a few final words of sage counsel, I would
recommend hunters in Africa to be guided so
far as possible by the following scraps of vale-
dictory advice :-—

Avoid cold bathing from the first day of your
arrival in the country ; warm baths only should
be taken.

Never fish within 10 feet of the water’s edge,

POINTS TO BE REMEMBERED 313

unless you are at least 6 feet above it. Crocodiles
are everywhere.

Never pitch your camp in or nearer than
500 yards from a native village, and your prospect
of contracting malarial fever will be greatly
lessened.

Endeavour, in so far as may be possible,
when changing ground, to select the site for your
camp not later than about 4.0'p.m. This en-
ables everything to be comfortably arranged,
and gives your tired carriers plenty of time to
build their shelters for the night.

Never set out for a day in the field without a
substantial early breakfast, and a small supply of
food, and water, cold tea, or other non-alcoholic
beverage in your water-bottle.

Before leaving your camp for a new one,
never omit to make a personal examination of
the ground to satisfy yourself that nothing has
been left behind. You will soon be surprised
at the number of small articles of the most
precious description recovered at the last
moment which you would otherwise have
irretrievably lost.

Having concluded your examination of the
over-night camping ground, accompanied by
your gun-bearer, push your way to the head
of the column, leaving your servant to act as
whipper-in, and make a point of carrying yourself
a light rifle in anticipation of early morning
shots. You should march about a quarter of a
mile ahead of your carriers.

All converging paths not taken by your

314 POINTS TO BE REMEMBERED

expedition must be “ closed” in native fashion,
in order that none of your followers may be
separated by mistake from the main body. This
is done by scratching a line or two across them
with a stick, or throwing down into them a fresh
bunch of leaves or a bunch of grass.

When hunting across country, and some
distance ahead of such natives as may be accom-
panying you, it is a safeguard, where the grass is
thick, to take a few stems in your hand every
hundred yards or so, and bend them over in the
direction you are taking; this signal is well
understood.

When nearing game and speech is impossible,
the existence in the line of march of thorns,
fallen timber, a column of ants, or anything it is
necessary to step over, is conveyed to the person
following behind by lightly slapping your right
thigh twice.

On the road with carriers fully laden, it is a
good plan to allow them ten minutes’ rest after
each complete hour’s march. This delay is of
little consequence, and is much appreciated by
them; but never allow them to sit down and
rest without permission.

Never allow any member of the expedition,
under any pretext, to appropriate without pay-
ment anything he may fancy in the native
villages or gardens. It is a weakness of which
they are not seldom guilty, and should on all
occasions be most sternly repressed.

Returning to the game of Zambezia, those
who have had the patience to peruse these pages,

HUNTING DISTRICTS 315

and who may be contemplating a shooting
excursion into the remoter portions of Portuguese
East Africa, may well be asking which particular
district they should select as the scene of their
sport. My reply to this is that one of the dis-
tricts north of the Zambezi is calculated in the
present aspect of the country as a whole to give
the best results. Personally, if I were to return
to Portuguese East Africa for a final sojourn in
the wilds, I should make Quelimane my base of
departure into the interior. Throughout this
little-known region practically every animal de-
scribed in this book may be found, and in some
of the divisions, notably in Lugella, Boror, and
the Alto M’lokwe, very little shooting has taken
place. Moreover, although game is abundant, I
am unaware of the presence of tsetse flies, whilst
for those to whom such considerations appeal, the
scenery of the interior of this attractive district
is beautiful and striking in the extreme.

The courses of the Zambezi and Shiré Rivers
have been for so many years frequented by
steamers and barges that, except in one or
two circumscribed areas, the game has largely
retired ; but above the confluence of the Shiré
fine shooting may be found practically all the
way, upon the north bank, up to the Lupata
Gorge. South of Tete the extensive, healthy
region of the Barué, described in my book
Zambezia, is an excellent game country into
which an ideal hunting expedition may be
undertaken, whilst a number of splendid types,
exclusive, however, of elephant and rhinoceros,

316 QUELIMANE

as also magnificent and unlimited wild-fowl
shooting, may be obtained in the Luabo territory,
immediately to the south of the southernmost
branch of the Zambezi delta. All these wide
areas fall within the vast region of Zambezia,
and there are, of course, many others wherein
moderately good sport can unfailingly be found.
But what attracts me in this little-known portion
of East Africa is that here the country and the
native are largely unspoiled. Here you still
receive, if you deserve it, the old-time courtesy
traceable, doubtless, to the centuries of Portu-
guese occupation, through which the place has
come down to us in its still attractive form.
There is still something in the very languorous
warmth of its tropical climate, and the aspect
of the quaint old houses, redolent of Livingstone’s
earlier journeys, which cannot fail to appeal to
the imagination. It is not simply a matter of
drawing a cheque and finding your arrangements
falling automatically into stride. Here arrange-
ments are made in a different way, and occasion-
ally at the expense of some little time and
patience; but I have never met anybody who
grudged of either what small meed the exigencies
of his journey may have cost him.

I have known Quelimane intimately since
1896. Here I have spent much pleasant time,
and my recollections of the place are among the
most delightful among my African memories.
Moreover, Quelimane displays no tendency to
change like those struggling centres to the south-
ward, torn as they are yearly limb from limb

“ONILNOH SHINOW V JO SLTOSHN
‘play KR *Q tg o70yg gif “ff a2vf OF

QUELIMANE 317

in the struggle for commercial supremacy. My
last visit to this small haven of rest, seventeen
years after the date at which I first beheld it,
showed me the small group of brightly coloured
houses nestling cosily in their bower of luxuriant
tropic greenery, unchanged and apparently un-
changing. There were many gaps in the ranks
of my old friends, it is true, but the new-comers
appeared to the full to have assimilated the
courteous hospitality of tradition, and thus, as I
have just stated, Quelimane appeared to be little
changed from what it was when I knew it first in
the distant days of the early nineties. There are,
I think, but few settlements situated elsewhere
of which the same can with truth be said.

For the convenience of new-comers, I have
appended hereto a list of provisions sufficient for
two men of ordinary wants over a period of about
two months. Wines and spirits have been pur-
posely omitted, as upon this point everybody has
his own ideas. I may perhaps add that the
light, harmless, and very excellent table wines of
Portugal, readily obtainable upon the coast at
most moderate prices, appear to me to be so good
as to render the importation of this detail from
Europe entirely unnecessary.

APPENDIX TO CHAPTER XIII

List of provisions and general necessaries for
two persons, calculated for a hunting trip of about
two months, wines and spirits excluded.

2 dozen Rose’s Lime Juice Cordial.

1

DO = DO DO me

DEAR BEBE mpl me DD DO DO OD et m= DO OO

99

99

Packets Price’s London Sperm
Candles.
Orange Marmalade.
Assorted Jams.
Ideal Milk.
Tins Plain Lunch Biscuits.
» Butter (Harmen & Zoom).
», Westphalian Sausages (Crosse
& Blackwell).
Brown & Polson’s Corn Flour.
Assorted tins Fruits in Syrup.
Assorted Potted Meats.
Tinned Salmon (Lazenby’s).
» Lobster (Lazenby’s).
Safety Matches.
French Beans.
Tinned Green Peas.
Asparagus.
Quaker Oats.
; Baking Powder.
Cooking Lard.
Worcester Sauce (large size).
Cerebos Table Salt (large size).
Pickles.
Chutney.

1 bottle Cayenne Pepper.

3
1

29

99

Tabasco Sauce.
White Pepper.

4 dozen Lunch Tongues.
2tins Apple Rings.
318

LIST OF PROVISIONS 819

4 Ibs. Coffee.

3 tins Colman’s Mustard.

7 lbs. Chopped Sugar.

4 dozen Assorted Afternoon Tea Cakes
(Swallow & Ariel Brand).

4 ,, Red Currant Jelly.

2tins Curry Powder.

3 dozen Pea Flour.

;, Wan Houten’s Cocoa.

41bs. Ridgway’s Tea.

50 ,, Potatoes.

open

40.3. Onions

95 ,, Flour,

25 ,, Rock Salt, for curing skins.

25 5 Alum Crystals, for curing skins.

6 pekts. Sunlight Soap for laundry pur-
poses.

1 side Bacon.
20 Ibs. Soft Mauritius Sugar.

CHAPTER XIV
BIRDS AND BIRD SHOOTING

In that portion of the preceding chapter dealing
with the question of arms and ammunition, I
recommended the provision of a fair supply of
shot-gun cartridges. For these, in many parts of
Zambezia, much use can be found, not only to
provide desirable variety in the daily diet of the
party, but some variation in the character of the
sport itself.

Scattered over the face of the country there
are large lagoons, swamps, and marshes populous
with wild-fowl of every description, from the
immense unwieldy pelican to the delicate painted
snipe. In the neighbourhood of the larger villages
two or three different kinds of guinea-fowl are
plentiful, as are the pretty familiar turtle-doves,
fruit-eating pigeons, and other birds; whilst
the forest, especially where it breaks up into
grassy glades, is the home of the francolin and
the bustard.

On the Zambezi itself, and throughout the
various mouths of its delta, wild ducks are found
in such astonishing numbers that in one morning’s
or evening’s shoot a fairly large canoe could
easily be filled with these sporting and savoury
birds. About the flighting time, that is to say,

320

DUCK SHOOTING 821

from about an hour before sunset until night has
fallen, they come over, flying about 40 yards high
in small assemblies of from ten to thirty or forty ;
and on many occasions, so rapidly has flight
followed flight, I have wished that I had been
possessed of a pair of guns instead of my trusty
old double 12-bore only. The variety to which I
am referring is the small whistling duck commonly
called the “ Tree” duck from the circumstance
that these birds readily alight upon the tree
growths by which nearly all African waters are so
consistently surrounded. On one occasion, while
I was the guest of one of the British gunboats
which some years ago cruised about the waters
of the lower Zambezi, the commander and I
killed between us over seventy of these birds during
one single hour of shooting. The number men-
tioned was that of those actually gathered, and
I fear that a considerable number in addition
were of necessity lost.

It was a glorious evening in June, and H.MS.
Herald was “‘tied up” for the night on the
southern bank of the Kongoni or Inyamissengo
branch of the Zambezi delta a few miles below the
point at which it receives the now well-known
Chinde channel. We descended into the small
dingy, put the arms and ammunition on board,
and were soon travelling rapidly down stream
propelled by a muscular Sidi-boy. The river here
is very wide, and, being above the mangrove belt,
the banks were covered with luxuriant and strik-
ing vegetation. Here a graceful grove of waving
coconut palms marks the plantation of a half-

322 DUCK SHOOTING

caste Portuguese proprietor; farther on a mass
of forest trees, their riverward branches thickly
matted with grey, beard-like orchilla weed, and
in the distance the rounded masses of the deep
green, majestic mangoes; wild bananas, baobabs,
lliana-entangled African teak trees, and a pro-
fusion of other interesting growths too numerous
to mention.

My host was landed at a point where a small,
dry, grass-overgrown creek emptied the waters of
the rainy season into the river, and a similar post
was found for me on the other side. We had not
long to wait.

As the golden light of the waning afternoon
threw long shadows upon the tranquil water, the
advance guard of the “‘ whistlers ’’ came in sight
round a corner, and for over an hour thereafter
the firing on one side of the river or the other
was almost continuous. The only varieties we
secured apart from the ducks referred to were three
spur-winged geese, and one or two teal and poch-
ard. There was great glee that night among the
blue-jackets of the lower deck when the tooth-
some birds came to be distributed.

The following morning, accompanied by two
light native canoes carried upon the backs of their
respective owners, we left the ship at an early
hour, and pushed our way through the drenching
dew to a large marsh or swamp lying several miles
to the south of the main channel of the Zambezi.

I do not think any person who had not had the
experience would realise how intensely wet he
could get in forcing his way in the early morning

DUCK SHOOTING 323

through the chill, dew-drenched grasses of tropical
Africa. The large bunches of seed-vessels, all
roped together by exquisitely glittering strands
of dew-bejewelled cobweb, discharge cataracts of
icy water upon one, and, such is the volume of
moisture they can contain in the cases of the
taller cane-like grasses, that one is often com-
pletely drenched to the skin in less than the first
mile. It does not, however, take the rapidly
increasing heat of the sun very long to remedy
this, at worst, but temporary discomfort.

But to continue my narrative. In due time,
and with the inevitable soaking, we finally reached
the marsh, I having come off better than the rest
by unostentatiously marching in the rear, thus
coming into contact with grass already rubbed
partially dry by the persons or clothing of my
immediate predecessors. Our further progress
was here barred by the usual surrounding belt of
reeds, so, as the piece of water was of an irregular
oblong shape, it was decided that one of us should
get afloat at each end, and we should thus be
enabled to keep the wild-fowl as long as possible
on the move between us. My companion there-
upon set out for the lower end, and, in order to
give him time, I seated myself upon my canoe and
waited. After the lapse of about half an hour,
judging that he must about now be reaching his
starting-point, I gave orders to push the canoe
quietly through the high spear-grass which hid the
water from us. Very gently this was done. I
seated myself in the bow, the proprietor pushed
off, and we dragged our way as quietly as possible

324 DUCK SHOOTING

through our screen of swishing reed stems. Open
water, or at least water as open as these marshes
ever possess, soon appeared. In size the sheet
was perhaps about a mile and a quarter long by
about 600 yards wide, and I speedily made out a
satisfactory number of ducks of various kinds,
spur-winged geese, hosts of herons, cranes, and
storks, with the usual throng of dabchicks and
shore-birds. Luckily, as I emerged from the reeds
I was hidden from observation by a thin bed of
low papyrus rushes behind which I could recon-
noitre unsuspected.

With the exception of a narrow expanse of
unruffled water in the middle, the marsh or lagoon
was covered over with the pretty, pale blue water-
lily so common in this part of Africa, and in
between the great, flat green leaves, almost as
though outlined by it, a curious, lettuce-like water
growth which has been not unaptly described as a
sort of giant duck-weed. But popping up all
over the surface one sees innumerable heads of
wild duck, of geese, of widgeon andteal. Peering
impatiently towards the farther end, I find that
my friend the commander is invisible by reason of
a bend in the marsh which conceals him from view
behind a group of wild date palms against whose
greenery, like so many white specks, the snowy
forms of a score of egrets are discernible.

At this moment a quick double discharge,
sounding very tar away, relieves me of further
anxiety, so I get ready for the birds his shots may
drive over me. Several more shots are heard in
rapid succession, but the birds in my vicinity,

DUCK SHOOTING 325

which are large in size and of a dull chestnut
colour, betray little or no uneasiness. Had they
been whistlers they would have been gone already.
At last a small flock of the latter variety are seen
flying very high over the middle, and passing me
far out of range circle once or twice and gracefully
execute a vol plané down into the water at my end.
At the far extremity of the marsh there are many
varieties of wild-fowl in the air, and just as I am
about to give orders to push along the edge of the
reeds, about a dozen spur-winged geese flying
low, with their peculiar, deliberate, distinctive
wing stroke come straight from the sound of the
firing in my direction. Changing the cartridges
quickly for No. 3 shot, I cower down uncomfort-
ably in my uncomfortable seat. On they come,
nearer and nearer, not an inch over 25 yards high.
Seventy yards, sixty, fifty. Ah! the leader has
seen me, and widens out towards the centre. I
take number four in the line, and down he comes
to my right, the left barrel failing on number five,
although I distinctly hear the sound of the shot
through the wing-feathers. These spur-winged
geese are €xtraordinarily hard birds; the amount
of shot they will successfully carry away with
them is sometimes amazing. We gather the fallen
one and push along. Now the red ducks get up in
twos and threes, and in ten minutes I have col-
lected a round dozen, and lost—and missed—half
as many more. At this point I congratulate
myself on having stuck to the edge, for, doubtless
disturbed by the firing in some adjacent water,

several numerous flocks of whistlers appear, one
22

326 DUCK SHOOTING

of which, driving past me in a round mass and
at about 35 yards, gives me three for my two
barrels. Things now begin to grow very ani-
mated; I can hear the other gun having an ex-
cellent time, and the birds, now fairly on the move,
are satisfactorily divided between us. Still they
come, red duck, black duck, whistlers, teal,
shovellers, and sheldrake. The geese, as is their
invariable habit, abandon the locality on the
first alarm, but, in spite of that, about an hour'later
when firing ceased, it was found that between us
we had gathered in almost as many birds as upon
the preceding evening, to say nothing of a fine
hare picked up on our way back to the ship.

In the neighbourhood of the villages, especi-
ally of those more remotely situated, and suffi-
ciently well established to possess in their vicinity
extensive areas of maize and millet gardens, I
have seen guinea-fowls literally in hundreds, and
so tame that, having secured a brace or two, all
desire for further shooting left me. It would have
been no better sport than taking a gun into a weil-
stocked fowl run. But putting aside the now
rare occasions upon which these birds are en-
countered in these immense numbers, there are
few neighbourhoods in the interior where the
peculiar morning and evening call of guinea-fowls
may not be heard at those times of day. They
are not as a rule difficult to flush unless they have
been much shot, and afford a fine, satisfying mark
as, with a veritable thunder of wings, they rise
boldly into the air. Guinea-fowls are extra-
ordinarily local birds, and cling with a strange

GUINEA-FOWLS 327

pertinacity to a given area, waxing within it
both numerous and fat; and even after their
haunts have been discovered they may, unless
ruthlessly slaughtered at the outset, be made
to yield a brace or so occasionally without
manifesting the least anxiety to change their
quarters.

When I resided some years ago at Mozam-
bique, I lighted accidentally one day upon such a
colony of unsuspected guinea-fowls which were
always to be found within measurable distance of
a point on the neighbouring mainland, which, if I
remember rightly, was called Sancoul Point.
Nobody else knew of the presence of these birds,
and, as shooting of any kind was practically un-
obtainable—if one except shore birds, and a few
duck in some marshes 8 miles away—I kept my
discovery carefully to myself. About once a fort-
night I would go over and help myself to a brace
or two, upon which the eyes of passers-by would
on my return grow big with surprise, but although
a sharp look-out was maintained for a long time,
and I believe I was once followed, the locality
of my preserve remained a profound mystery
until my departure. This was a very necessary
precaution as, had I once afforded the smallest
clue to the whereabouts of the birds, all the
Portuguese possessed of a shot-gun would have
swept in a cloud through the unsuspected refuge,
and not a single guinea-fowl would have been left
either for me or for anybody else.

In Zambezia there are three kinds of these
birds which, eschewing scientific names, I will call

328 GUINEA-FOWLS—BUSTARDS

the blue-helmeted, the yellow-helmeted, and the
crested varieties. Of these the last named is by
far the handsomest. There is at all times of year
a wonderfully bright, almost metallic, sheen on
his dark, steely-grey feathers, but during the
spring and early summer his brilliancy of plumage
seems to redouble, an effective majestic touch
being imparted by the glossy, jet-black crest of
feathers which adorns his shapely head. I do
not think the crested variety is quite so delicate
a table bird, nor does he reach to quite the
generous dimensions of his plainer kinsfolk ;
what is lacked in size and succulence is almost
atoned for in brilliance and beauty.

The bustards are not very numerous. The
only one I have obtained—or indeed seen—
being the handsome, black-bellied type; yet,
when it is remembered that in portions of the
country not very far south of the area we are
considering there are at least six or seven others,
not to mention the enormous giant bustard, which
will often turn the scale at five-and-forty pounds,
it would appear highly probable that, however
sparsely, some of these may have penetrated
to the banks of the Zambezi.

Bustards are most frequently seen in grassy
glades in the early morning and late afternoon.
They are extremely shy, and are most frequently
flushed within range when one is unprepared
for the opportunity. I came very near to losing
one of the few of these birds which I have shot
through the larcenous propensities of a white-
throated fishing eagle one evening while awaiting

BIRDS OF PREY 829

the flighting duck on the upper waters of the
Pungwe River.

The bustard flew over my head, and falling
to my shot about the middle of the stream,
began to drift slowly down on the current as
my canoe put out to gather it. The frail craft
had certainly not made five yards in its direction,
however, when the fishing eagle, which I had
already observed perched upon a large tree on
the opposite side of the river, swooped down and
actually seized my bustard, having paid not the
smallest attention to the report of the gun. I
was only loaded with No. 6, but the eagle’s stoop
brought the great bird into easy range, so I fired
both barrels at the thief, and must have given
him some painful food for thought. He did not
come down, but was so perturbed by the stinging
he received that he fortunately dropped the
bustard, which my dusky retrievers duly re-
covered.

I have on several occasions observed among
the great birds of prey an astonishing disregard
of danger from the moment that their attention
has become concentrated upon an object likely
to offer something particularly dainty in the
nature of a meal. Especially is this peculiarity
noticeable in the cases of the crested eagle, the
tailless bateleur eagle, and the handsome, cheery
bird whose unlawful designs upon the bustard I
have just recounted. Usually, with the excep-
tion perhaps of the last named, one will seek
in vain to stalk them upon their roosting trees.
They are up and away upon the first hint of

330 EAGLES

approaching danger. But if they should be
hungry, and you should happen to have shot
something that attracts their attention; or if,
at your feet almost, they should espy a favourite
bird or animal, they will on occasion come
straight down and, catching the coveted morsel
in a powerful talon, get them gone before the
astonished onlooker has fully grasped the signi-
ficance of the rushing sudden swoop. Such of
my readers as have had the patience to peruse
the preceding chapters will already have noted
two examples of this peculiarity observed by me
in the larger raptorial species, and, although
I do not remember to have read similar experi-
ences recorded in the works of other hunters,
the propensity referred to can be by no means an
uncommon one.

Eagles are, of course, soulless, cruel creatures,
but I never kill one if I can possibly avoid it,
first of all because they are such invaluable
scavengers, and, secondly, because my admiration
for their grand, wild, expansive existences is so
real and deep-seated that I would not willingly
curtail them by so much as an instant. Who
among those who are compelled to make their
way about the wilds of Africa on foot has not,
as the burning afternoon wore on, and, weary,
travel-stained, and athirst he has wondered
if the long day’s march would never end,
glanced wistfully upward into the blue vault and
followed with envious eyes the easy, graceful,
effortless flight of one or other of the great African
eagles sailing majestically in vast circles without

EAGLES 331

the motion of a wing or the tremor of a feather ?
I do not know who would wish to bring to a close
so joyous and space-annihilating a life as this.
The specimens at which one gazes through the
great barred cages in the Zoological Society’s
Gardens always fill me with the deepest com-
miseration; I pass their narrow lodging with
hastening steps, wondering vaguely what the
inmates’ feelings would be did they but realise
one tithe of the grandeur of the life they have
missed.

The three eagles I have mentioned are, I
think, the largest, most powerful, and most
impressive among Zambezian birds of prey.
Opinions differ as to which may have the most
claim to be regarded as the handsomest among
them, but my own bias is all in favour of the
highly ornamental, if somewhat gaily marked,
loud-voiced fishing eagle. The head, neck,
breast and shoulders of this fine example are
of snowy white, forming a dazzling contrast to
the sombre chocolate brown and black of the
remainder of his colour scheme. I once possessed
one of these birds, which was presented to me
by a German friend, having, from some cause or
other, sustained a fractured wing. This bird—
a female—became very tame, and, when once
her passionate interest had been successfully
divorced from my fowl-run, could be trusted
practically without supervision in the gardens.
One day I heard this eagle giving tongue in a
state of extraordinary excitement. Her piercing,
indescribable cries rang through the premises

332 EAGLES

in a most deafening manner, and, going out to
ascertain the cause, I heard them repeated like
an echo from above. At that moment a large
shadow flitted across the garden, and I became
aware that Francisca was deliberately encourag-
ing a follower. After some preliminary circling
there was a rush of wings and the stranger
alighted some few yards from the crippled
captive. Both then threw back their haughty
heads and made the whole surroundings ring
with their cries. What would have happened
had they remained undisturbed I have, of
course, no means of knowing, but, unluckily,
attracted by the unusual vociferations, a servant
rushed out and, before I could prevent him
from doing so, put the bold stranger to flight.
Francisca made unsuccessful and most pathetic
efforts to follow, and did not for some time
regain her wonted composure. So far as I am
aware, the visitor never returned.

With the crested, variously called “ warlike ”’
and “‘ martial ’’ eagle, I have had less to do. I
remember when I was residing at Zomba in the
Nyasaland Protectorate in 1894 there was a
wretched-looking, half-starved and utterly miser-
able specimen of this splendid type confined in a
small wire-netting enclosure in the back premises
of the Government buildings. This unfortunate,
whose air of unspeakable dejection never failed
to arouse my compassion, was said to have
become sufficiently tame to be reconciled to its
somewhat squalid surroundings, an allegation for
which, however, there was little enough apparent

EAGLES 333

justification. Even in captivity, with the inevit-
able accompaniment of bedraggled feathers pro-
duced by its narrow quarters, this poor semblance
nevertheless possessed some small remnants of
its former majestic appearance. Feathered all
the way down to the talons, the prevailing hue of
these birds is a dark, slaty grey, turning to pale
grey on the breast. The head, surmounted by its
short, gay plume, is dull black, whilst the fierce-
looking hooked beak is of dark yellow. These
birds prey upon all sorts of reptiles and small
mammals. With a wing-spread of about 6 feet,
they are enabled to capture and fly off with
considerable weights.

The bateleur eagle is easily identified as he
soars aloft in the clear African sky. Owing to his
practically imperceptible tail his form, with wings
outstretched, is almost exactly that of a new
moon. His colour scheme is much gayer than is
that of the species just referred to, being dull
black, reddish chestnut on back and wing covers,
whilst the sides of the face, beak, and legs are of
brightest red. The head is black, and the ap-
pearance of the bold eyes and terrible beak is the
last word of untamable ferocity.

The habits of the bateleur are said to be far
less predatory than those of the other African
eagles ; in fact it is confidently and authoritatively
stated that his method of maintenance is neither
more nor less than bare-faced scavenging. Inany
case he is a splendid creature, and said, in cap-
tivity, to grow extraordinarily tame.

There are, in addition to the foregoing, many

334 GROUND HORNBILL

other eagles and birds of prey, including the
great tawny eagle, the hawk eagle, the African
hawk and the crested hawk eagles, besides num-
berless vultures, buzzards, hawks, kites, and
falcons. Secretary birds pursue their benevolent
mission in the slaughter of the snakes, and about
seven or eight varieties of owls shatter the nerves
of the rats, mice, and other small mammals and
birds.

But before I leave the subject of the scavengers
I must write a few lines concerning that weird
type, common throughout South East Africa,
called the ground hornbill.

No more entertaining creature was ever
domesticated ; no more shameless thief was ever
unmasked. The appearance of this bird (called
Dendéra by the natives of Zambezia) would sug-
gest that he had been intended by Nature to pose
as the incarnation of dull, unctuous respectability
—as a sort of hereditary sepulchre-keeper, or pall-
bearer-in-chief to the feathered world. The
ground hornbill is a large bird garbed in rusty
black, with one or two white wing-feathers. His
chief feature is an immense beak, upon which,
when tame, he will resignedly submit to have
fastened a pair of spectacles, provided with which
his appearance is unspeakably mirth-provoking.
He is a tireless if deliberate pedestrian, and, when
domesticated, wanders about the gardens, which
he speedily rids of all noxious forms of insect life,
uttering a curious wheezy moan which earned
for the first one I was enabled to study the
appropriate name of the ‘“‘ hard breather.”’ He

GROUND HORNBILL 335

also has a habit of chattering his beak in a fashion
which recalls a similar trick practised by the
marabou stork. Nothing assimilable comes amiss
to this extraordinary creature. Small animals,
young birds, insects, out-of-date meat, snakes, all
these and much more he impales with his long
sherp beak, jerks neatly into the air, and skilfully
catches in his capacious throat, shaking his head
thereafter with an air of profound dejection.
Ground hornbills become so tame, and are
possessed of such an amazing degree of in-
telligence, as to recognize readily persons to whom
they become attached. They also learn to answer
their names, and readily acquire various unusual
accomplishments, such as placing the head under
a wing and simulating slumber, raising and
putting down their feet by word of command, and
several others. They are rather trying by reason
of the fascination which glittering objects such
as spoons, forks, and articles of table silver
generally have for them—a friend of mine who
lost in this way a valuable jewelled sleeve-link
being a lamentable example of this larcenous
tendency. But their lives seem to be over-
shadowed by the very genius of gloom, and to
attempt to describe a ground hornbill who ap-
peared to be satisfied with life would be as
difficult as to try to portray a hornpipe executed
by undertakers.

Nothing gives one more sporting shooting
than the ever-present turtle-dove, and nothing
affords more excellent material for a really meri-
torious ragout. These delightful little creatures,

336 DOVES—PIGEONS

whose crooning voices are heard on the outskirts
of every village at early morning and each
evening at sunset, may be seen about the latter
hour flying in large numbers across the maze and
millet fields to the nearest watering-place. They
travel through the air at a prodigious rate, and
usually singly, or in twos and threes. Occasion-
ally, however, where for a long time they have been
undisturbed, and the native gardens are very
extensive, they may be seen in large swarms, and
must consume enormous quantities of native
food-stuffs ; but their pace is one which, when
crossing the sportsman’s front or coming down
wind overhead, is calculated to try the skill of
the most capable.

There are several other varieties of these birds,
including the pretty and extremely delicate fruit-
eating pigeon, which is considerably smaller than
the rosy-hued, white-collared turtle-dove.

High up on the plateaux of Gorongoza and
Morumbala I have seen and shot a very large
bird which is, of course, a true pigeon. It is of
white-speckled bluish grey with yellow beak, and
of a size slightly larger, I think, than the ordinary
British stock-dove. This fine variety inhabits
the forested portion of the higher altitudes, and
is exceedingly shy and wary. I have been in-
formed that they are numerous in certain portions
of the Shupanga Forest, which I should have
regarded as rather low for them, were it not that
some few years ago I actually shot one not very
far from Lacerdonia.

Partridges, consisting of two different species

OTHER BIRDS 337

of francolin in the forest, and a third, a larger
and much more sporting bird not unlike the
British variety, in the higher portions of the
country, may occasionally be shot. As a rule, I
find, the most favourable opportunities occur
when one is armed with a rifle. The open grass
country abounds with quail of, I believe, two or
three species, whilst here and there the good-
looking painted snipe may occasionally be flushed.
The last mentioned, however, are far from
numerous, and many persons familiar with this
part of Africa are entirely unaware of their
occurrence.

For those who are interested in obtaining
striking ornithological specimens there are many
types among the shore birds and waders, and
among the marsh-dwellers of Zambezia, as well
as hundreds of others which are well worthy of
preservation. Foremost among these come the
rarely beautiful saddle-billed storks, the crested
crane—that splendid creature which grows so
touchingly tame, and which should be sedulously
encouraged to acclimatise itself in England in
place of the deafening and often frowsy peacock.
In addition to the foregoing there are to select
from about twenty-six varieties of pelicans,
cormorants, storks, and herons; twelve of ducks
and geese ; twenty-five of hawks, buzzards, kites,
eagles, and falcons ; ten of kingfishers, and about
fourteen of jewel-like sunbirds—those rarely
beautiful creatures, the vividly iridescent sheen of
whose exquisite polychromatic feathers makes one
at times almost gasp with surprise and pleasure,

338 OTHER BIRDS

and for which there is really no good basis of
comparison possible. All these there are, and
between seven and eight hundred others. It
cannot, therefore, be justly said that bird life on
the banks of the great East African river is not
fully as representative as it probably is in any
other portion of the continent.

CHAPTER XV
TSETSE FLY: GAME RESERVES

THE presence of the common tsetse fly in various
parts of Zambezia, as doubtless the intending
visitor to this great area is likely to discover at
the cost of his patience before he has explored
very much of it, impels me to write at least a
portion of a chapter upon this insect, and upon its
relationship to sleeping sickness in man, disease
in cattle, and to its dependence or otherwise upon
the African game beasts.

Hitherto in these pages I have been at no little
pains, sometimes almost at the sacrifice of clear-
ness, to avoid the use of scientific or technical
terms for the reasons explained in my preface ;
but I fear it would be well-nigh impossible to
elucidate my meaning did I continue to do so in
dealing with the important considerations to
which the contemplation of tsetse flies and their
fell work gives rise.

I will begin, therefore, by dealing with the
elementary facts that whilst sleeping sickness was
until recently believed to be a malady spread by
the tsetse fly whose scientific name is Glossina
palpalis, the member of the same unnecessary
family whose mission was supposed to consist in

the dissemination of Trypanosomiasis, or “ fly
339

340 TSETSE FLIES

disease,” a sickness fatal to horses and generally
to domestic stock, was known as Glossina morsi-
tans, the two being by the layman practically
indistinguishable.

Sleeping sickness has probably been in ex-
istence in West Africa for several centuries ; some
of the earliest writings descriptive of the voyages
of the slavers who visited the coast in the seven-
teenth century stating that care was exercised in
the selection of the negroes purchased lest any
should be included exhibiting swollen neck
glands, as it was found that these did not long
survive. How long this terrible malady took to
cross the continent from west to east there are, of
course, no means of knowing, but, about fifteen
years ago, attention in England began to be
attracted by the appalling reports of native mor-
tality occurring from this cause in Uganda, es-
pecially in Busoga, and on the shores and islands
of Lake Victoria as well as in the division called
Kavirondo. The services of such medical ex-
perts as we then possessed were promptly
requisitioned, and after careful study it was
found that the mysterious disease was caused by
the injection into the human system of a minute
parasite or trypanosome called Trypanosoma
gambiense, named after the region in West Africa
wherein it had first been recorded. It was also
conclusively proved that such injection was
effected during the bite of the tsetse fly stated
above. The progress of the disease to which
the bite of this fly was found to give rise
signalised itself in a swelling of the neck glands,

TSETSE FLIES 341

fever, pronounced physical and mental languor
and, in later stages, great emaciation and the
irresistible desire to sleep from which the malady
takes its name. From the outset of discovery of
infection there were few, if any, survivals, and to
increase the gravity of the matter it was soon
found that Europeans were susceptible almost as
much as the natives, who were, of course, the
chief sufferers. No remedy has as yet, so far as
I am aware, been discovered, and the only steps
which it has been found possible to take have
been those of carefully segregating affected per-
sons, and the removal of human habitations back
from the shores of lakes and other waterways
which the insect disseminator of the sickness
selects as his favourite dwelling-place.

As years went on it became gradually evident
that sleeping sickness was spreading southward.
Slowly but surely it passed along the western
shore of Tanganyika, and thence, to the dismay
of the administration and the settlers, it found its
way little by little into the hitherto healthy up-
lands of North-Eastern Rhodesia, where it has
proved, especially during the last three or four
years, a hard problem for the local medical staff,
as, to make matters more serious, especially from
the point of view of attracting the immigrants
necessary to the country’s development, a number
of cases, which afterwards proved fatal, were
identified among Europeans already established.
This in itself was bad enough, but what added a
hundred-fold to the perplexities of the medical

officials of the British South Africa Company was
23

842 TSETSE FLIES

the fact that, in spite of the most careful and
systematic search, with the exception of one or
two well-defined areas, no trace of the Glossina
palpalis, the hitherto supposed sole means of the
distribution of sleeping sickness, could be found
throughout the length and breadth of the land.
The common cattle tsetse, Glossina morsitans,
was very generally present in North-Eastern
Rhodesia, it is true, but so far that insect had not
aroused suspicion.

My readers will probably be vainly asking
themselves how all this affects the well-being of
wild game in Zambezia; but I would crave
their patience yet a little, for we are coming to
that.

About three years ago, some person, I fancy
of European origin, who had been found suffering
from sleeping sickness in a portion of North-
Eastern Rhodesia which had already gained a
somewhat sinister reputation by reason of the
relatively large number of cases discovered there,
was sent home to England and examined at one
of the great establishments which devote special
attention to bacteriological problems. Here it
was found that the trypanosome or parasite
contained in his blood exhibited marked differ-
ences from those hitherto identified as the result
of the bite of Glossina palpalis, the new germ
being at once named after its country of origin,
Trypanosoma rhodesiense.

About this time, the planters of the Nyasa-
land Protectorate became alarmed at the fre-
quency with which cases of sleeping sickness

TSETSE FLIES 348

appeared in their midst, coming, as it were, from
nowhere, and also in spite of the complete absence
of Glossina palpalis. They also grew increasingly
uneasy at what they regarded as the inexplicable
spread in their midst of the common cattle-
killing fly Glossina morsitans. To increase the
mystery some fine healthy specimens of the
newly discovered Rhodesian parasite just re-
ferred to were found in the blood of a missionary
said to have been undoubtedly infected in
Nyasaland, the assumption rapidly gaining
ground that the sleeping sickness which had
appeared in North-Eastern Rhodesia and the
type discovered in Nyasaland were one and the
same, and produced by identical means, whatever
they might be. As the best method of inquiring
into these momentous matters was evidently
to employ experts, an important commission
was appointed in 1912 by the British South
Africa Company to investigate the whole
question of sleeping sickness within their terri-
tory, and, about the same time, another com-
mission, under the able direction of Sir David
Bruce, commenced its important labours in the
Nyasaland Protectorate.

The former established itself in the Loangwa
Valley, at or near the spot where the case of
sleeping sickness which had furnished the clue
to the new parasite had been contracted. Here
the medical men entrusted with this difficult
task began their investigations, and proceeded
step by step to trace the source or main reservoir
of the parasite, and the reason for the outbreak

344 TSETSE FLIES

of the terrible malady in a country where no
trace of the Glossina palpalis, the sole known
medium of the disease’s transmission, could be
found. The attention of these experts was first
attracted to the fact that although the last-
named insect was apparently wholly absent,
the other commoner member of the family, the
transmitter of “‘ fly disease ” in cattle, existed in
extensive belts. Investigation into the latter
insect’s habits, peculiarities, and mode of life
were then pushed forward, with the somewhat
startling result that his responsibility for the
conveyance of the newly discovered sleeping
sickness parasite was placed beyond doubt.

Here then was the whole secret ; but with its
discovery science found itself confronted by
difficulties compared with which those attending
the elimination of the disease in Uganda paled
into utter insignificance. Here is the reason.
Glossina palpalis, the first discovered spreading
agency of the parasite of the disease, is an insect
to whose existence water in fairly large volumes
appears to be necessary. They dwell and pro-
pagate upon the shores of lakes, rivers, and
fairly large streams. By the removal of human
habitations from the vicinity of water, therefore,
the destructive activity of this fly is at once
checked, and the cases of infection greatly
reduced in number. But what preventive
measures could be adopted to prevent the spread
of sleeping sickness disseminated by the newly
discovered medium ? Glossina morsitans appar-
ently cares nothing for water. Its myriads

TSETSE FLIES 845

cover the face of the country in belts sometimes
70 or 80 miles across. The bush in district,
no matter how dry, is full of them. They bite
human beings and animals alike incessantly from
sunrise to sunset, and make life on the road one
long purgatory. In the case of this insect,
therefore, there was no place to which the
unhappy people could be removed unless they
abandoned the country altogether. To make
matters worse, it could not be stamped out by
the collection or destruction of its eggs. The
tsetse fly does not deposit eggs like the general
mass of insects. Its larva is extruded perfect
from the oviduct of the female, and is dropped
in a shady place, preferably in loose crumbling
soil. There it creeps into the earth, grows so
dark in colour as to become practically indis-
tinguishable from its surroundings, and in a
short time turns into the pupal or chrysalis
stage. Each female fly, with a lifetime of three
or four months, may produce eight or ten of these
larva, so that when one comes to reflect upon the
propagatory activities of a large belt of tsetse
flies, the hopelessness of attempting to extermin-
ate them in the undeveloped stage will be readily
appreciated.

The Loangwa Valley commissioners now
turned their attention to ascertaining what
constituted the host, or main reservoir, of the
new sleeping sickness parasite, the Trypanosoma
rhodesiense, and to this end began the systematic
examination of the blood of a large number of
wild and domestic animals, including that of

346 TSETSE FLIES

elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, lion, buffalo,
fourteen different species of antelope, and that
of many small mammals, including monkeys,
rats, and mice. The conclusions at which they
arrived, as the result of this extensive investiga-
tion, were of great importance. They indicated
that a number of the antelopes (percentage and
names not stated) were found to be infected with
trypanosomes identical with those producing
sleeping sickness in human beings and “ fly
disease’ in domestic stock. Taking the great
game as a whole, it was found that something
like fifty per cent of the animals were so in-
fected, although, doubtless owing to oversight,
or possibly uncertainty as to the species to
which they belonged, the names of the innocent
varieties have not, so far as I am aware, been as
yet made known to us.

So far, then, the commission had succeeded
in carrying out the task entrusted to them.
They had found that in North-Eastern Rhodesia,
and Nyasaland also, in all probability, the trans-
mitting agent of sleeping sickness which had
grown so gravely common was, without doubt,
the hitherto unsuspected common Glossina
morsitans, whose previous character, though
besmirched by its offences against horses and
cattle, had never been assailed by suspicion of
crime so grave as the spread of sleeping sickness.
To complete their success the commissioners
had further placed their fingers upon the reservoir
or host of the hitherto mysterious parasites of the
terrible disease.

TSETSE FLIES B47

We are now approaching, little by little, the
raison d’étre of this chapter.

I remember a couple of years or so ago per-
using in certain Nyasaland and Rhodesian news-
papers indignant letters from angry settlers
fixing responsibility upon the moderately close
proximity of certain game beasts for the presence
of tsetse flies, which they not unnaturally re-
garded as a standing menace to their cattle
and other beasts, although, at that time, in
common with the rest of the world, they were
unaware of the more serious powers which these
insects unsuspectedly wielded. Proposals were
set on foot to present petitions to the respective
administrations pleading for the immediate
wholesale destruction of all game beasts in order
that the tsetse flies, having nothing more to feed
upon, might be induced to pass along to some
other and farther removed area, leaving the
civilised haunts to the European and his indis-
pensable instrument the native. About the same
time interest in the United Kingdom was
stimulated by an ably-conducted controversy
which took place in the columns of a leading
sporting journal, sustained by that careful
observer Sir Alfred Sharpe on the one hand, and
Mr. F. C. Selous on the other. The matter in
dispute, so far as I remember, affected the
question of how far the presence of game in a
district was responsible for that of tsetse flies,
and to what extent, if any, the removal or
extermination of game beasts, in areas in which
these insects occurred, would lead in turn to

848 TSETSE FLIES

their final extinction. Others, myself included,
joined in the discussion, but I fancy but little
beyond assertion against assertion was reached.
At all events the public began to realise the
trend of events, and the danger in which Africa’s
splendid fauna was soon to find itself. That
danger now begins to assume an acute form.
Speaking at a meeting held recently under the
auspices of the Liverpool School of Tropical
Medicine, Dr. Warrington Yorke, one of those
gifted experts whose researches in Rhodesia laid
bare the important results which I have just
outlined, attempted to furnish something in the
nature of a suggestion as to how far the diffi-
culties of dealing with so apparently hopeless a
proposition as the rooting out of sleeping sick-
ness could be overcome. He proposed that, as
there was considerable evidence that tsetse flies
spread with the game, and increased in numbers
as the herds increased—as the great game
formed the reservoir of sleeping sickness virus,
which the fly transmitted to the human being, the
only chance of getting rid of the possibility of
further infection was to ‘‘ drive back the game
from the neighbourhood of human habitations.”
He further proposed that a census of the popula-
tion should be taken, and the proportion suffering
from sleeping sickness noted, an index of the
percentage of infected flies ascertained, and these
steps repeated over prolonged intervals of time.
The keynote of the address, however, was the
driving back of the great game from the neigh-
bourhood of human habitations, as though it

TSETSE FLIES 849

were to be found in the village gardens, inter-
mixing sociably with the goats and fowls. It
rather reminded one of the suggestion by Lewis
Carroll’s walrus of the employment of “ seven
maids with seven mops.”

Taking as a whole the observations of Dr.
Warrington Yorke and other experts, one is
irresistibly forced to the conclusion that these
gentlemen are one and all unshakably imbued
with the firmly-rooted impression that the
presence of tsetse flies invariably presupposes
the presence of game. You see repeatedly in
their writings, and in the accounts of their public
utterances, such phrases as “ Drive back the
game,” “ This fauna is antagonistic to civilisa-
tion,” “‘ The big game must go,” and so on. If
.this be so; if this be indeed their firm con-
viction, then my opinion, based upon twenty
years’ observation in fly-infested countries, and
supported by that of a number of far more com-
petent students of this complex question than I
am, is that they are simply beating the air, and
advocating, without any proper sense of their
responsibilities, measures of the success of which
they cannot afford the smallest guarantee.

With regard to the dependence of these
insects upon game, it may be convenient here to
mention that, equally with a number of other
sportsmen and observers, I am acquainted with
enormous fly-belts in Portuguese East Africa,
where for many miles tsetse flies are a daily and
constant source of annoyance, and have been
so for many years, but where there is not the

350 TSETSE¢FLIES

smallest trace of game, nor recollection of its
occurrence among the more elderly of the native
inhabitants.

In 1908 I was ordered to proceed for certain
purposes upon an official tour in the division of
Africa which I have just mentioned, in the course
of which I crossed over on foot from the Indian
Ocean at the port of Ibo to the south-eastern
corner of Lake Nyasa at a point in British
Nyasaland called Fort Maguire. Twice on this
journey did my expedition, upon which I was
accompanied by the well-known zoologist and
authority upon great game, Major J. Stevenson-
Hamilton, pass through extensive fly-belts, one
of which must have been fully 80 miles in width.
It lay between the M’salu and Lujenda rivers,
and throughout its extent we were all badly
bitten. Arrived at the village of an elderly
headman named Che-chequéo in the Yao country,
at which the insects still mercilessly annoyed us,
he told me that the country through which
we had passed since leaving M’salu was known to
his people as the “‘ fly country,” and had cer-
tainly contained no game within his recollection.
I had, on this occasion, about eighty men to feed,
and, as will be easily understood, I lost no oppor-
tunity of obtaining animal food for them; but
throughout this and other fly country through
which we passed, where, if there be any point in
the contentions of those who advocate game
extermination, we should have found the country
teeming with animals, we discovered, in spite
of our constant searches, neither game nor game

TSETSE FLIES 351

spoor. Soon after we had passed the fly country,
however, we encountered game, not very plenti-
fully it is true, but sufficient to enable us to
provide our hard-worked carriers and servants
with a welcome change of diet. I could, if it
were necessary, cite other instances of fly-
infested, gameless areas.

In the light of these indisputable facts one
asks oneself in vain by what means these countless
thousands of insects feed themselves. It cannot
be upon human beings, because villages do not
occur far from the waters of the two rivers I have
mentioned ; it cannot be upon game, for to all
intents and purposes there is none; and it cannot
be upon the small mammals, because these are
almost all nocturnal, and do not leave their day-
light refuges until after the tsetse fly’s period of
activity. Putting these aside, it seems highly
improbable, when we come to consider the average
duration of this insect’s life, that it can maintain
itself exclusively during the whole of that period
upon the blood of reptiles, yet here we are con-
fronted with an immense, fly-infested area, which
is known to have been the haunt of the tsetse for
many years, and in which it is impossible to
discover, in the blood of any living creature,
sufficient nutrition to account for their long-
continued presence. In these circumstances it is
difficult indeed to imagine what useful purpose
can be served by advancing the contention that
the extirpation of the large, four-footed mammals
would infallibly be followed by the disappearance
of the fly.

352 TSETSE FLIES

In the public speeches of Dr. Warrington
Yorke much importance has been attached to the
theory that by “ driving back ”’ Africa’s magnifi-
cent fauna, only a portion of which, as he himself
admits, has shown itself to afford hospitality to
the sleeping sickness parasite, the main reservoir
of infectivity will be removed; but I cannot
understand how this portion of the case can
possibly be considered (viewed from the stand-
point of our present knowledge) to have been fully
made out. To begin with, we have, so far as I
am aware, no evidence of the réle played as hosts
of disease by the hundreds of species of diurnal
birds commonly found in the affected portions of
the sub-continent ; moreoever, if we were to dis-
miss them one and all from consideration, we must
not forget that in some cases where parasites have
been discovered in the blood of certain of the
four-footed types examined, it was found, I under-
stand, that they were so few and far between that
their discovery was only effected after long and
patient search. One may thus, I think, form, with
some slight approximation to certainty, a faint
idea of how many times the animal might be
bitten without infecting the puncturing fly at all.
It is perhaps possible that the beast might pass
from infancy to old age without bestowing one of
its rarely-occurring parasites upon a single tsetse.
Again, although, I doubt not, it will be said that
the present is no time for temporising, and that
every potential source of infection must be ruth-
lessly ‘driven back,” I cannot refrain from
pointing out our entire want of evidence that the

TSETSE FLIES 358

infectivity of beasts of any kind may not be an
accidental or temporary condition, and not by
any means one of life-long duration.

The Secretary of State for the Colonies, the
Right Hon. L. V. Harcourt, has pointed out with
absolute understanding of the matter that “‘ to
talk of the extermination of the wild fauna of a
sub-continent is to talk wild nonsense,” adding
that ‘“‘ the suggestion is only possible from those
who take their natural history and geography
from a school atlas.”” With this view, I feel sure,
all those who have considered this matter with
calmness and judgment cannot but fully concur.
If, then, the difficulties of extermination be so
stupendous, what measure of success, I ask, is
likely to attend the “‘ driving back ’’ of the many
types of active ruminants accustomed to travel in
one short night many miles farther than they
could be driven in several long and weary days?
Of course if Dr. Warrington Yorke’s methods of
‘“‘ driving back” are such as he would desire to
see entrusted to the wanton, armed native, or the
murderous “‘ biltong ’’? manufacturer, to whom I
‘have referred elsewhere, he should be frank and
say so.

Let us regard the question from another point
of view. It is a well-established fact, as I myself
have just pointed out from my own experience,
that for reasons of which we are still entirely
ignorant tsetse flies adhere to the same areas for
long periods of time, wholly irrespective and
independent of the presence of game therein.
About the year 1896, the visitation of rinderpest

354 TSETSE FLIES

depopulated certain game areas wherein these
insects were well established. In its terrible
march through the country this disease did not
depopulate every portion of it; many small
areas were entirely untouched, and it is the
descendants of the fortunate dwellers there who
are now slowly restocking the country. In
Nyasaland, for example, the destruction wrought
by the rinderpest upon animal life in no way,
district for district, affected the previous presence
of the tsetse. They were there before the
rinderpest, when doubtless they waxed fat upon
the blood of the multitudinous mammals the
country contains, but the destruction of the
game affected them not a whit—there they con-
tinued. When I was in Nyasaland in 1911, I
found the inhabitants, most of whom to me were
more or less new-comers, almost panic-stricken
because, as they stated, tsetse flies were now
appearing in new and previously unvisited locali-
ties; but, as I reminded them, that is one of the
peculiarities regarding the insect for which science
is unable, in spite of commissions, and experts,
and men possessed of special knowledge, to afford
us any explanation. If they come they come,
and means may be devised to rid the country of
them, but the fact of their having chosen, as in
these cases, portions of the Nyasaland districts
where game is decidedly scarce, would not appear
to hold out much hope of success to Dr. Warring-
ton Yorke’s scheme of getting rid of the tsetse
fly by ‘“‘ driving the animals back.”

Personally, I feel convinced that the tsetse

TSETSE FLIES 855

has other sources of obtaining nourishment than
those afforded by the presence of the blood of
either wild or domestic beasts. I am satisfied
that on no less than two occasions I have seen
these insects in the act of sucking vegetable
juices, and I have conveyed full particulars of my
observations to the proper quarter. My state-
ments were apparently not welcomed, and there,
so far as I am concerned, the matter ends. I may
have been mistaken ; I may be told that the pro-
boscis of the tsetse fly does not admit of this
insect’s alimentation by other means than those
afforded by mammalian blood, but I shall always
firmly believe that they are, upon occasion,
capable of maintaining themselves upon vege-
table juices, and I shall always believe that I have
seen them in ‘the act of doing so.

Let me not, however, be understood, in any
single word that I have penned upon this import-
ant subject, as having been actuated by any
desire to undervalue or belittle the splendid and
invaluable services which, in this most difficult
and delicate investigation, expert and courageous
men like Dr. Warrington Yorke and his devoted
colleagues have so successfully rendered, not only
to science, but to every individual, of whatsoever
nationality, who may seek in the future a South
Central African home. Their deeds and their
discoveries will live for ever, and nobody more than
myself will entertain for them a greater or more

1In the Republic of Liberia, where Ighave recently located
Glossina palpalis, this insect is commonly called the ‘‘ Mango
Fly ” from its alleged fondness for the fruit of that tree.

356 TSETSE FLIES

abiding admiration. But what I would most
earnestly implore of them is patience yet awhile.
The epoch-making facts which they have brought
to light will lose nothing of their value by the
lapse of the time necessary to enable us properly
to appreciate them. Let us, therefore, not be
hasty, nor yet too drastic in our first applied
remedies, and, above all, let us be sure before we
adopt our preventive measures that they con-
stitute in very truth the only way out. Do not
condemn to extirpation even the meanest detail
of the African fauna until the blood of every
living creature containing it, from the eagle in the
zenith to the serpent in his hole, has been care-
fully examined, so that no small unsuspected host
continue unharmed whilst the great fauna are
ruthlessly slaughtered.

I hold no brief for wild beasts beyond my
boundless admiration for them as one of the
most attractive and absorbing features of the
African landscape. It is indeed well within the
bounds of probability that I may never again see
in its wild state another African mammal; but
while my voice is heard in connection with that
great continent wherein I have passed the best
years of my life, I shall raise it in defence of the
defenceless fauna until we know beyond question
that that fauna must go.

Since the signature in 1900 by all the European
powers possessing Spheres of Influence in Africa
of a Convention for the protection of the fauna
of that continent, which, I believe, was largely
the humane idea of the late Sir Clement Hill,

ABUSES 357

then at the head of the African Department of
the Foreign Office, much has been done to put a
period to the indiscriminate and wanton slaughter
whose recital, in books printed as a rule by
““ sportsmen ”’ thirsting for notoriety, had at last
aroused public deprecation in England.

About that time the slaughter of game, un-
checked by anything in the nature of properly
framed and enforced regulations, proceeded at a
rate which entirely denuded immense and formerly
populous areas, leaving them in the bare, desolate
condition of so many hundreds of thousands of
square miles of monotonous, shot-out country
over which the South African train-traveller gazes
from his carriage window to-day.

The International Convention came just in
time to save the game of Zambezia, and other
portions of Portuguese East Africa as well. Up
to that time no steps had been taken. For a
ludicrously small sum the slaughterer might—
and usually did—wade through seas of un-
necessarily spilled blood. In 1898, during a
short tour of duty at the British Consulate at
Beira, the district behind which small port was
at that time one in which good shooting was ob-
tainable, I heard of cases of butchery which often
aroused my indignation, and cases not always
perpetrated by the ignorant or irresponsible.
One instance of scandalous abuse has always
clung to my memory as possibly the worst to
come to my knowledge. This was committed by
a hunting party from one of the South African
towns who visited the district about that time.

24

358 ABUSES

These men were said to have boasted on their
return to Beira of having shot in one month over
600 head of wild animals, or an average of more
than twenty a day. The professional hunter who
accompanied them, and who informed me of what
had taken place, was moved at length to re-
monstrance when he saw two of these creatures
actually shoot eleven brindled gnu in one morning,
leaving their carcases untouched, and lying upon
the plain, a prey for the hyena and the vulture.

In the Nyasaland Protectorate, somewhere
about 1894, great amusement was created by the
originality of a certain naval officer who was said,
I believe with truth, to have taken his blue-
jackets ashore and concluded their annual mus-
ketry course, with satisfactory results, by volley-
firing at long ranges at a target formed by the
large herds of buffaloes which at that time
occurred upon the banks of both the Zambezi and
the Shiré Rivers. Generally speaking, the whole
wretched business was looked upon as a great
joke, and never a thought went out to the numbers
of innocent creatures, immature calves and cows
heavy with young, dragging out the miserable
remnant of their pain-racked days in the agony
induced at every movement by their festering
wounds and shattered limbs.

Then take the bloodthirsty “ biltong ” brig-
ands, and the hunters of meat for sale. The
Beira and Mashonaland Railway in 1898, and for
several years before, ran through a country be-
tween the sea and the mountains of the Southern
Rhodesian border which was full of game, and

ABUSES 359

here these slayers, with a perseverance which to
me seems devilish, and wholly unchecked by the
Mozambique Company, shot daily. Every morn-
ing there arrived by train, as also by boat from
the Pungwe River, numbers of carcases of antelopes
of all kinds, some for immediate consumption and
some probably for transformation into “ biltong.”
What is the result ? Eight years later, in Sep-
tember 1906, I came down by train from Salisbury
to Beira, and crossed once more the enormous
expanses surrounding Fontesvilla, which in my
previous recollection were full of game. On the
whole journey, however, I did not see one single
living animal.

Twelve years ago Beira was full of skins and
heads and horns of game beasts. If you were a
buyer you could secure any specimen you desired
for next to nothing. Four European professional
hunters conducted parties to the interior, each of
these netting £100 a month for his services upon
the trip. It is evident, therefore, that, as their
patrons never were heard to complain of ineffi-
ciency on the part of these men, the return on
their investments must have been a large one.

But what has Beira and its formerly populous
game districts to show to-day for all this wanton
heedlessness of big game butchery? A few
ancient, worm-eaten horns hang from the ceilings
of one or two deserted stores, growing more and
more unsaleable year by year. None of the old-
time European hunting cicerones remain, nor
have others come to take their places.

The whole fact of the matter is that the

860 GAME RESERVES

Mozambique Company’s territory is no longer
what it was, and game must now be worked for so
hardly as to make it doubtful whether the result
justifies the outlay and hardship involved. I
believe the Company have established one game
reserve, but my recollection is that it was selected
at a spot where at no time were animals very
plentiful nor varieties extraordinarily diversified.
I doubt, therefore, if it has served any strikingly
useful purpose, the more so as I have never heard
of the appointment of any person possessed of
technical knowledge or trained observation in the
capacity of warden, nor have I seen any published
reports of the results of the experiment.

The only other game reserves within the
Portuguese possessions in East Africa are at
Inhambane, of which one never hears anything,
and in the extreme south of the district of
Lourenco Marques. Regarding the latter, my
charge against the Mozambique Company rela-
tive to lack of trained personnel repeats itself,
and with this addition, namely, that the authori-
ties actually permit on occasion privileged persons
to shoot within the limits of this sanctuary.
This I have never heard of the Mozambique
Company doing, but then I do not suppose that
the contents of their reserve would justify them
in doing so.

In the Nyasaland Protectorate there are two
game reserves which up to 1911 had admirably
fulfilled their humane purpose, and whose
sanctity had, I think, never been violated.
Unhappily in that year the restrictions placed

GAME RESERVES 861

upon shooting in the more important of these
near Chiromo were largely removed, with the
result that the area was promptly invaded by
representatives of a type which is ever waiting
to take advantage of such an opportunity. These
doubtless worked their will upon the long-pro-
tected and bewildered animals, and it is sad to
think of what must have taken place.

Of the several reserves established in British
South Africa, perhaps the most important in the
results it has given is that situated between the
Drakensberg and the Lebombo Mountains, and
widely known as the Sabi Reserve. The super-
vision of this large area is vested in a warden,
and he is assisted by a number of European
and native rangers and police. Major J.
Stevenson-Hamilton, the present warden, who
has for so many years watched unremittingly
over its welfare, has attained most remarkably
successful results by the uncompromising
thoroughness with which his methods have been
followed. Indeed it would be difficult to find
anywhere one possessed of and exercising such
methodical patience in the pursuit of efficiency.
I firmly believe that the warden of the Sabi
Reserve knows the greater part of his animals
by sight, and is almost on bowing terms with
many of them. Certainly there is not the
smallest detail connected with them, their
histories or their habits, with which he is not
perfectly acquainted, and the result of all this
untiring care and study places him, without
doubt, in the foremost rank of contemporary

362 GAME RESERVES

zoologists. It may be remembered that the
success of South Africa’s gift of a wonderful
game collection to the King on the occasion of
His Majesty’s coronation was, I believe, wholly
due to Major Stevenson-Hamilton’s efforts, which
his many friends both at home and abroad still
look to see suitably recognised.

I have no hesitation in stating that of all the
game sanctuaries I have mentioned, that which
I have last referred to is the only one which can
be regarded as completely fulfilling the purposes
for which it was intended, or at all events comes
nearest to doing so. For although the estab-
lishment of these areas has received a certain
amount of more or less apathetic attention in
all the British Spheres of Influence in Africa,
the adoption of proper measures for the well-
being of the species sought to be preserved and
increased has not always been allowed to
monopolise sufficient attention. It is all very
well to publish in the official Gazettte of a colony
or protectorate the boundaries of a large area
in which the hunting or taking of game is for-
bidden ; but it is quite another to take the proper
measures, by the allocation of suitable annual
grants of money, and the employment of a
properly selected staff, for the realisation of the
purposes of the increase and protection of game.
Of course we must not lose sight of the diffi-
culties with which in these regards our admini-
strators are surrounded; their positions do not
always enable them to carry out much which is
obviously desirable. For all that, however, I

GAME RESERVES 363

fear we do not sufficiently realise that in the
important matter of game preservation; in
relation to the wonderful fauna of Africa, a
fauna probably unsurpassed in any portion
of the world’s surface which so many of our
colonies contain to-day, we are merely the
trustees of posterity, and have no right or title
at the behest of irresponsible and not seldom
self-seeking individuals to allow the birth-right
of the future to be imperilled by the perhaps
immaturely considered decrees of to-day.

In this connection I think that the un-
doubted benefits which have resulted from the
formation of game protection societies, especially
in certain portions of South Africa, are such as
should give rise to an extension of the move-
ment to others of our dependencies where the
advantages of these associations may not have
received sufficient attention. From such bodies
as these, and from the salutary influences which
they undoubtedly wield, public opinion is largely
formed, and my own view of the question of game
preservation is that in public opinion properly
moulded will the game beasts of the future find
their chief protection. After all, when one comes
seriously to consider the question, the safeguards
afforded by regulations and reserves are far from
being measures upon which for game preserva-
tion permanent reliance can be securely placed.
Governors come and go, and with the arrival of
each new-comer, did the wild things but know
the issues involved, a tremor of apprehension
might well thrill through the heart of the jungle.

364 GAME RESERVES

I do not suppose that such measures are ever
taken without grave reflection, nor do I imagine
for one moment that any one of our hard-worked
administrators ever dreamed of sacrificing the
sanctity of game reserves or the lives of their
occupants without feeling convinced that he was
actuated by good and sufficient reason. But I
would beg leave to suggest that before any de-
finite step is irrevocably taken that such section
of public opinion as might have interested itself
in the more complex aspects of game preserva-
tion should be consulted in an advisory capacity.
This would do no harm, and might very con-
ceivably greatly strengthen the action of the
chief authority, should it be at any time called
in question.

CHAPTER XVI
RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION

THE imperfect description of the game families
and the sporting advantages of the immense
region of Zambezia contained in the foregoing
' pages will, I sincerely hope, demonstrate to the
host of sportsmen who annually leave the United
Kingdom in search of big game the fact that it is
one which very seriously merits their attention,
and this not solely and entirely for the large
number of animals it contains, but for the little
that is known of this attractive and beautiful
portion of the African continent.

Sport and travel are terms which of late years
have become so closely associated that the former,
in the judgment of many, largely depends upon
the amount of interest afforded by the regions in
which it is enjoyed. Where, for example, would
any attraction be found to lie if the number of
wild animals secured during an average successful
journey to Africa could, by the ministrations of
some enterprising purveyor, be shot, say, in the
Essex marshes ? Nobody would doit. It would
not be worth while. But when, to a fine col-
lection of interesting and beautiful trophies, is
added the glamour of having obtained them in

almost unknown, wild, and romantic surroundings
365

866 RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION

—in a land where few have preceded one—such a
consideration is capable of operating to give rise
to the execution of prodigies. The number of
such regions, however, even in the immensity of
Africa, grows yearly smaller and smaller, so that
when they come to be temptingly held out to us it
grows difficult indeed to disregard them.

For years past the plains of British East Africa
have been the scenes of most of the game ex-
peditions of note. So much is this the case that
even among those who have never participated
in them there is something of familiarity in the
names of the different centres, as in the scenery
depicted in the numberless photographs which
have laid bare the character of the country for
the information and entertainment of those at
home. Who among us, to whom African shooting
is a matter of interest, has not heard of the Athi
Plain, the Rift Valley, Taveita, Elgon, Naivasha,
and all the rest ofthem ? Who does not conjure up
before his mental vision, when such names as these
are pronounced, a wide plain, sometimes covered
with stunted thorn trees, sometimes offering an
unexampled view over the short, well-grazed
verdure, of zebras, gazelles, and hartebeestes ?
One seems to have seen it all without having been
there—to have had some of the sport without
drawing any of the indispensable cheques. But
farther south it is different; you get your shooting,
as much as any man is reasonably entitled to, but
instead of the over-commercial “‘ you draw the
cheque and we do the rest” methods of British
East African expedition caterers, you have a new

RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION 367

land which has not as yet made the grandest of
sport on earth so overpoweringly business-like a
business proposition. In Zambezia you can take
more time ; your expenses are considerably less ;
and there is not the smallest present possibility
of being jostled by some inconvenient European
with just as much right to be there as you have.
The region is too vast for that, and in addition to
its enormous area it fulfils in the most satisfying
manner one’s preconceived and perhaps unspoken
conception of a great ‘“‘ Land of the Mountain and
the Flood.” With regard to the climate, at the
the time of year when hunting would normally be
undertaken, it is as delightful as, with ordinary
care, it is harmless.

Of course, with the exception of one or two
more favoured areas, game is rarely if ever seen
in the vast numbers in which one can gaze upon
it in the Rift Valley, or upon the plains between
Nairobi and Makindu; but for my own part I
regard that as no great disadvantage. The man
who always seems to me to enjoy his hunting the
most is he who goes out in the morning without
the faintest idea of what he will find, but sure
that the day holds out something worth finding.
His path through the forest is unfailingly pursued
with that sustained interest to which such con-
ditions must of necessity give rise. Instead of
gazing across immensity, and seeing numberless
suspicious beasts upon the far horizon (if that
should be what they do in British East Africa),
he glances with redoubled interest and antici-
pation upon every thicket and into every glade.

868 RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION

The next step may bring him full upon the fresh
spoor of an eland or an elephant, of a rhinoceros
or a roan, or indeed upon these beasts themselves.

If any further inducement were wanting, the
grandeur of the scenery, unspoiled as yet (un-
fortunately for the economic future of this fair
land) by railways, motor roads, or manufactures,
would abundantly supply it once the coast was
left behind. Nothing in my experience and
opinion could exceed or approach the wild beauty
of Boror, of Lugella, of the Namuli Peaks to the
northward or, farther to the west, of mighty
Morumbala and gigantic Chiperoni. They ex-
hibit every variety of African landscape, every
splendour of Nature in her wildest and most prodi-
gal moods. If, having set out the foregoing, any
additional element calculated still further to
predispose the reader in favour of this wide and
splendid game country were wanting, it would be
found, I doubt not, in the kindly willingness of
the well-disposed, peaceable natives. There are
none of your boot-shod, blanket-pampered, ex-
orbitantly paid carriers here ; the men, whilst in
every sense worthy of their hire, are satisfied with
humane, just, and reasonable treatment, without
expecting to have embroidered on to it the sense-
less indulgences with which the wealthy plutocrats
who hie them to the plains of British East Africa
have so delighted to spoil the market for other
sportsmen quite as keen and possibly keener, but
unluckily less favoured in their share of this
world’s indispensable goods.

I must confess, knowing the region as I do,

RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION 369

that I have never been able to understand why
it is that so meagre a measure of attention has in
the past been devoted to Zambezia. It has come
to be regarded, I am afraid, as a kind of unfor-
tunate, not very desirable East African waif, and
its neglect has been so consistent that the country
as a whole is nowadays rarely spoken of except in
terms of belittlement and dispraise. Yet those
who live there—those who know it intimately—
have a very different account to give. Its com-
mercial capacity is so vast as, of recent years, to
have gained for it a small, apparently reluctantly-
conceded measure of pertunctory attention, and
with that attention a half-hearted interest in
Zambezian game has slowly raised its anemic
head. That the country to the north of the
lower courses of the Zambezi compares favourably
with that to the south, which for so many years
was regarded as one of the finest shooting grounds
in the southern half of East Africa, no longer, to
my mind, admits of a doubt; and as the remoter
districts are reached, the numbers of the game
beasts are found to be as great as their varieties
are interesting. Much of this interior consists, as
described in my book Zambezia, of moderately
high forested country, from whose irregular un-
dulations chains of granite mountains at times
abruptly spring; but from the Zambezi to the
Lurio the district is a wonderfully well watered
one during the whole year, and the plains forming
the lower levels of such river basins as those of the
Lugella, Licungo, Ruo, and Shiré are well worthy
of the most careful examination, not so much for

870 RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION

the sake of what we know to be there, as for that
which may be. I am of opinion that these un-
frequented vastnesses of Africa have still much to
yield us in the way of zoological and other sur-
prises, and these rewards not seldom reserve
themselves for those to whom appreciation of
sport and travel adds its advantage in the in-
vestigation of the more untrodden fields of
African research.

I am afraid, were it in my power to do so, I
should devote a large portion of the country lying
to the north of the Zambezi to the purposes of
game preservation, and to such a design it would
admirably lend itself. It possesses all the neces-
sary qualities for the establishment of a sanctuary
capable of affording a perfect refuge to every
beast within its borders, and not only to these,
but it would admit of most interesting experiments
in the acclimatisation and propagation of varieties
from other parts of the country which are tending
from one cause or another to grow alarmingly
scarce. This is a phase of game preservation to
which, I have sometimes thought, sufficient at-
tention has not in the past been directed. It is of
course obvious that, left to themselves, certain
types, such for example as the springbuck, the
oryxes, and others, have preferred to pass their
lives on the vast plains of Africa, moved thereto,
doubtless, by considerations which to observers of
understanding are perfectly intelligible, and no
useful result would attend any experiment having
for its object their removal therefrom ; but there
are many types among the forest-dwellers un-

RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION 371

accountably absent from surroundings which, so
far as can be ascertained, are in all respects
favourable to their establishment and well-being.
It seems not to have occurred to zoologists that
means might be found in our great game reserves
to introduce and acclimatise many species at
present unknown in them caught in and imported
from other and not dissimilar regions where they
may seem to be growing rarer. What, for ex-
ample, would there be, save the mere question of
expense, to prevent the capture and turning down
of the Congo buffalo in the lower levels of the Sabi
Reserve, or the introduction of a pair of pygmy
hippopotami from Liberia into the waters of the
rivers flowing through the same admirably con-
ducted refuge? Nothing could exceed the in-
terest of such experiments as these, nor their
value from almost every conceivable point of view.

To my mind a game reserve should be con-
ducted more or less upon the lines of a carefully
tended botanical garden. That is to say, it should
be made the scene of the propagation and pro-
tection not only of the animals which it contained
at the outset, but of every African beast from north,
south, east, or west which might be induced to
live and multiply within its limits. I trust the
day may still be in store for the fauna of Africa
when every European Sphere of Influence par-
ticipating in the development of that great con-
tinent will possess not only well-organised reserves
for the preservation of their game, but a regular
system of exchange of the various animals for the
purpose gradually of widening the distribution of

372 RECAPITULATION AND CONCLUSION

the hardier families. This is, I think, the ideal
towards which all persons interested in game
preservation should direct their energies, an ideal
whose attainment would secure, better than any
other means, the everlasting safety of the wild
game of Africa.

INDEX

ABYSSINIA, 39.

Addo Bush, 7.

African Lakes Hotel, Chinde, 252.
Agama, 283.

“ Algernon,” 25.

Ammunition, 292.

Angoni, the, 127.

Angwe River, 73.

Ant-bear, 228.

Anti-corrosive preparations, 294.
Aroangwa River, 19.

Athi Plain, 366.

Baboon, 239 et seq.
Bagamoyo, 39.

Baker, Sir S., 45, 84, 285.
Balthazar, Senhor, 252.
Bangweolo, 137.

Baringo, Lake, 265.

Barué, the, 126, 169.
Bateleur eagle, 329, 333.
Beira, 107, 357 et seq.

“ Biltong ’’ hunters, 15, 358.
Bird life, 24.

Blaaubok, 7.

Black duck, 326.
Black-necked cobra, 278.
Black rhinoceros, 63 et seq.
Black wildebeeste, 7.
Blantyre, 207.

Blantyre Mission boys, 269.
Blister, 310.

Blue wildebeeste, 127 et seq.
Bontebok, 7.

Borassus palm, 21.

Boror, 39, 128, 166.
Brindled gnu, 127 et seq.
British East Africa, 6, 7, 367-8.
British gunboats on Zambezi, 150.
Bruce, Sir D., 343.
Buchanan, late Mr. J., 146.
Buffaloes, 7, 14, 88 et seq.
Buphaga, 69.

Burchell’s zebra, 99 et seq.
Burroughs, Wellcome & Co., 309.
Bushbuck, 10, 144 et seq.
Bushpig, 10, 224 et seq.

25

Bustards, 334.
Buzzards, 334.

Cabinda, 39.

Camera sportsmen, 5.
Camp equipment, 298 et seq.
Camp pitching, 26,

Cape Province, 1.

Caracal, 1%.

Carnivora, Io.

Cats, 216.

Cedar, Central African, 28.
Chacma, I0, 239.
Che-chequéo, 350.
Cheetah, 11, 195.
Cheringoma, II, 39.
Chimpanzee, 254.

Chinde, 149.

Chinde River, 77.
Chiperoni, 27, 39.
Chiromo, 140.

Chuabo Dembi, 80.
Church of Scotland Mission, 282.
Civets, II, 214.

Cobra, 278.

Congo River, 39.
Cormorants, 337.
Coryndon, Mr., 73.
Crested crane, 337.
Crested eagle, 329.
Crocodile, 20, 259 et seq.
Curiosity of animals, 13.
Cuvier, 63.

“ Dambos,”’ 25.

Dassie, 233.

Dos Santos, Frade, 89.
Doves, 320.

Ducks, 34, 320 et seq.

Duff, Mr. H. L., 151-2, 282.
Dugmore, Mr. R., 5.
Duiker, ro, 155 et seq.

Eagles, 324.

East Luabo, 94, 122, 125, 137, 223.
Edgington tents, 295.

Egrets, 35, 324.

374 INDEX

Eland, 9, 13, 102 et seq.
Elgon Mount, 366.

Falcons, 334.

Feet, care of the, 310.

Fens, 23.

Fishing eagles, 328, 331 et seq.
Flotilla Co., 268.

Foa, Monsieur E., 141.

Fort Maguire, 52, 350.
Franciscan Mission, 277.
Francolins, 336.

Gadzi River, 94.

Gambia, the, 39.

Game preservation, 2.
Game reserves, 360 et seq.
Gazelles, 8, 9.

Geckos, 283.

Geese, dwarf, 34.

Geese, spur-winged, 34, 322.
General maxims, 312.
Genets, II, 215.

Giant rat, 223.

Giraffe, 8, 9.

Gorilla, 254.

Gorongoza, 12, 67, 69.

Gnu, brindled, 9, 127 et seq.
Gnu, Nyasaland, 9.

Gotzen, late Count, 98.
Great tawny eagle, 334.
Grévy’s zebra, 98.

Grivets, 250.

Ground hornbill, 334.
Guinea-fowl, 320, 326 et seq.
Gun-cleaning, 293.
Gwaza’s, 124.

Hadada, 35.

Harcourt, Right Hon. L. V., 353.

Hardinge, Lake, 264.

Hares, 233.

Hartebeeste, 9, 132 et seq.
Hawk eagles, 334.

Hawks, 334.

Herald, H.M.S., 321.

Herons, 35, 337-

Hill, late Sir C., 356.
Hippopotamus, 10, 75 et seq.

Holland & Holland, Messrs., 290.

Honey badger, 230.
Hunting dog, 11, 208 et seq.
Hunting leopard, 195.
Hunyani River, 73.
Hyenas, 11, 199 et seq.
Hyphcene palm, 21.

Tbo, 52, 350.
Iguana, 283.

Impala, 10, 151 et seq.
Insects, 24.

Inyamakativa channel, 150.
Inyamaria channel, 150.
Inyaminga, 13, 14.
Inyamissengo, 30, 150.
Ivory, weight of, 42.

Jackal, 11, 206 et seq.
“ Joao,” 244.

Katungas, 269.

Kedah establishment, 61.

Kenia, Mount, 65.

Kingfishers, 337.

Kirby, Mr. F. V., 64, 112.

Kites, 334.

Klipspringer, Io, 161.

Knysna Forest, 7.

Kongoni mouth of Zambezi, 94,

123.
Kudu, 9, 118 et seq.

Lado Enclave, 74.

Lage, Captain, 169.

Land Tortoise, 283.

Lankester, Sir R., 37.

Lawn & Alder, Messrs., 303, 306.

Lemurs, 252.

Lenco, 14, 68, 125.

Leopards, 10, 185 et seq.

Liberia, 39.

Lichtenstein hartebeeste, 9, 132.

Licungo River, 77, 369.

Liebermeister, A., 14.

Lions, ro, 165 et seq.

Lisbon Civil Guard, 249.

Liverpool School of
Medicine, 348.

Livingstone’s suni, 10, 158 et seq.

Loangwa River, 19, 123.

Loangwa Valley, 345.

Luabo, 39.

Lualua River, 112.

Luenya River, 126.

Lugella country, 70, 168.

Lujenda River, 350.

Lupata Gorge of the Zambezi, 151.

Lynx, 193.

Tropical

Macdonald, Mr. H. C., 128.
Machans, 179.

Macuze River, 77.
Madingue-dingue River, 124.
Makanjira’s, 53.

Makindu, 367.

Mambas, 271 et seq.
Mammoths, 38.

Man-eating lions, 173.

INDEX

Marshes, 23, 32.

Martial eagle, 332.

Marula plum, 46.
Mashonaland, 1.

Mastodon, 38.

Matabeleland, 1.

Meupa Mountain, 112.

Mice, 236.

Migrations, 12.

Mlanje, 27.

Mlokwe, go.

Moles, 236.

Monkeys, 238 et seq.
Morumbala Mountain, 27, 166.
Mountain zebra, 98.
Mozambique, Bishop of, 245.
Mozambique Company, 19, 358.
Mozambique Island, 274.
Mozambique, Province of, 18.
Mpimbi, 124.

Msalu River, 350.

Mudi Stream, 274.

Mungari River, 31, 125.
Mungoose, 11, 217 et seq.
Mupa River, 30.

Murchison Falls, 77, 151.
Muterara, 195.

Nairobi, 367.

Naivasha, 366.

Namule Peaks, 368.

Natal, 1.

Natural History Museum, 42.
Nile Valley, 39.
North-Eastern Rhodesia, 39, 343.
“ Ntundus,’’ 30.

“‘ Nyangalira’s family,” 14.
Nyasa, Lake, 44.

Nyasaland Game Reserves, 3.
Nyasaland gnu, 127.
Nyasaland Protectorate, 2, 39.

Orange Free State, 1,
Oribi, 10, 160.

Oryx, Io.

Otters, 232.

Owls, 334.

Paquin, M., 107.
Partridges, 336.
Pelicans, 35, 337.
Pigeons, 306, 320.
Pigs, 220.

Pinda, 27.
Pizzardi, Marchese de, 141.
Plains, the, 30, 94.
Plover, 35.
Pole-cats, 236.
Porcupine, 225.

375

Provisions, 318.
Puff adder, 280.
Pungwe River, 122.
Python, 274.

Quagga, 7.
Quail, 337.

Rat, giant, 233.

Rats, 236.

Red duck, 326.

Reedbuck, ro, 147 et seq.
Rhino-bird, 69.

Rhinoceros, 8, 10, 63 et seq.
Rhodesia, 1.

Rhodesia, North-Eastern, 39, 343.
Rifles, 285 et seq.

Rift Valley, 366.

Rinderpest, 89, 353.

Roan antelope, 9, 112 et seq.
Rock rabbit, 233.

Roosevelt, Mr. E., 101.
Rosebery Park, 141.

“* Roughing it,’”’ 284.
Ruffelle-Scott, Rev. D. C., 282.

Sable antelope, 9, 13, 106 et seq.

Saddle-billed stork, 337.

Samango monkey, 250, 252.

Sangadzi River, 31.

Savoy Hotel, Beira, 234.

Scaly ant-eater, 235.

Secretary bird, 334.

Selous, Mr. F. C., 102, 347.

Serval, 212.

Sharpe, Sir A., 137, 347.

Shiré River, 77, 151.

Shupanga Forest, 20, 31, 39.

Sierra Leone, 39.

Situtunga, 123.

Sleeping sickness, 339 et seq.

Snake birds, 35.

Snake-bite remedies, 274.

Snakes, 271.

Snipe, 337.

Sofala, 89.

““Songo,” 281.

Spear-grass, 20.

Spur-winged goose, 34, 322.

Squirrels, 236.

Statham, Major J., 140, 141, 179.

Steenbuck, 10, 162.

Stevenson-Hamilton, Major J., 98,
99, 251, 350, 361.

Storks, 337.

Sunbirds, 337.

Sykes’ monkey, 250, 252.

Tanganyika, Lake, 39, 341.
Taveita, 366.

376

Teal, 35, 324.

Tete, 169.

Thomas, Mr. Oldfield, 237.
Thornton River, 31.
Tiger cat, 11.

Torrens, Pére, 277.
Tortoises, 283.
Transvaal, the, 2.
Tsessebe, 137.

Tsetse flies, 339 et seq.
Turtle-doves, 335.

Upper Shiré River, 124.
Urema flats, 122.
Urema River, 12.

‘Vasco da Gama celebrations, 248.
Vicente, 202.

Victoria, Lake, 340.

Vultures, 334.

Vunduzi River, 67.

Warthog, 10, 220 et seq.
Waterbuck, 9, 13, 122 et seq.
Water tortoises, 283.
Weasels, 236.

Welle River, 62.

Whimbrels, 35.

INDEX

Whistling duck, 326.

White rhinoceros, 73 et seq.
Widgeons, 324.

Wild cats, 11.

Wild duck, 320.

Wildebeeste, 13, 127 et seq.
Wildfowl, 20, 33, 321 et seq.
Wildsmith & Son, Messrs., 308.
Winter months, 19.

Worth, M., 107.

Wuilleumier, Monsieur R., 166.

X Compactum Folding Furniture
298.

2

Yellow baboon, 10, 239.
Yorke, Dr. Warrington, 348, 349,
352, 353, 354, 355-

Zambezi River, 20.

Zambezia, boundaries of, 19.
Zambezia, vegetation of, 21.
Zangwe Marshes, 12.

Zanzibar, British Agency at, 164.
Zebras, 8, 9, 13, 97 et seq.

Zeiss glasses, 309.

Zomba, 145.

Zululand Game Reserve, 73.

Printed by Morrison & Gisp LimitED, Edinburgh

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