At this point they rose to a clifflike headland a
hundred and fifty feet high, flat on top. We decided to
investigate that mesa, both for the possibilities of game, and
for the chance of a view abroad.
The footing was exceedingly noisy and treacherous, for it was
composed of flat, tinkling little stones. Dried-up, skimpy bushes
just higher than our heads made a thin but regular cover. There
seemed not to be a spear of anything edible, yet we caught the
flash of red as a herd of impalla melted away at our rather noisy
approach. Near the foot of the hill we dismounted, with orders to
all the men but the gunbearers to sit down and make themselves
comfortable. Should we need them we could easily either signal or
send word. Then we set ourselves toilsomely to clamber up that
volcanic hill.
It was not particularly easy going, especially as we were trying
to walk quietly. You see, we were about to surmount a skyline.
Surmounting a skyline is always most exciting anywhere, for what
lies beyond is at once revealed as a whole and contains the very
essence of the unknown; but most decidedly is this true in
Africa. That mesa looked flat, and almost anything might be
grazing or browsing there. So we proceeded gingerly, with due
regard to the rolling of the loose rocks or the tinkling of the
little pebbles.
But long before we had reached that alluring skyline we were
halted by the gentle snapping of Mavrouki's fingers. That,
strangely enough, is a sound to which wild animals seem to pay no
attention, and is therefore most useful as a signal. We looked
back. The three gunbearers were staring to the right of our
course. About a hundred yards away, on the steep side hill, and
partly concealed by the brush, stood two rhinoceroses.
They were side by side, apparently dozing. We squatted on our
heels for a consultation.
The obvious thing, as the wind was from them, was to sneak
quietly by, saying nuffin' to nobody. But although we wanted no
more rhino, we very much wanted rhino pictures. A discussion
developed no really good reason why we should not kodak these
especial rhinos-except that there were two of them. So we began
to worm our way quietly through the bushes in their direction.
F. and B. deployed on the flanks, their double-barrelled rifles
ready for instant action. I occupied the middle with that
dangerous weapon the 3A kodak. Memba Sasa followed at my elbow,
holding my big gun.
Now the trouble with modern photography is that it is altogether
too lavish in its depiction of distances. If you do not believe
it, take a picture of a horse at as short a range as twenty-five
yards. That equine will, in the development, have receded to a
respectable middle distance. Therefore it had been agreed that
the advance of the battle line was to cease only when those
rhinoceroses loomed up reasonably large in the finder. I kept
looking into the finder, you may be sure. Nearer and nearer we
crept. The great beasts were evidently basking in the sun. Their
little pig eyes alone gave any sign of life. Otherwise they
exhibited the complete immobility of something done in granite.
Probably no other beast impresses one with quite this quality. I
suppose it is because even the little motions peculiar to other
animals are with the rhinoceros entirely lacking. He is not in
the least of a nervous disposition, so he does not stamp his feet
nor change his position. It is useless for him to wag his tail;
for, in the first place, the tail is absurdly inadequate; and, in
the second place, flies are not among his troubles. Flies
wouldn't bother you either, if you had a skin two inches thick.
So there they stood, inert and solid as two huge brown rocks,
save for the deep, wicked twinkle of their little eyes.
Yes, we were close enough to "see the whites of their eyes," if
they had had any: and also to be within the range of their
limited vision. Of course we were now stalking, and taking
advantage of all the cover.
Those rhinoceroses looked to me like two Dreadnaughts. The
African two-horned rhinoceros is a bigger animal anyway than our
circus friend, who generally comes from India. One of these
brutes I measured went five feet nine inches at the shoulder, and
was thirteen feet six inches from bow to stern. Compare these
dimensions with your own height and with the length of your motor
car. It is one thing to take on such beasts in the hurry of
surprise, the excitement of a charge, or to stalk up to within a
respectable range of them with a gun at ready. But this
deliberate sneaking up with the hope of being able to sneak away
again was a little too slow and cold-blooded. It made me nervous.
I liked it, but I knew at the time I was going to like it a whole
lot better when it was triumphantly over.
We were now within twenty yards (they were standing starboard
side on), and I prepared to get my picture. To do so I would
either have to step quietly out into sight, trusting to the
shadow and the slowness of my movements to escape observation, or
hold the camera above the bush, directing it by guess work. It
was a little difficult to decide. I knew what I OUGHT to do-
Without the slightest premonitory warning those two brutes
snorted and whirled in their tracks to stand facing in our
direction.
