178 IN BRIGHTEST AFRICA 
he left he said that he was convinced. “And,” he 
added, ‘“‘I don’t mind saying,” pointing to the little 
bronze of The Wounded Comrade, “that it is what 
did it.” I shall always be indebted to Mr. Morgan 
for that sentence. It gave me an extraordinary 
amount of contentment. A. Phimister Proctor, the 
animal sculptor, also came to see The Wounded 
Comrade in my studio. He spent a long time in 
silence, carefully studying the little model. I knew 
that Mr. Proctor never gave praise lightly, but 
that he never hesitated to express admiration when 
in his opinion the work had merit. I felt that much 
depended on his praise or blame. And when he 
finally spoke, his enthusiasm was keen. I did not 
realize how keen until an order came for a bronze of 
The Wounded Comrade from Mr. George Pratt, a 
friend of Mr. Proctor, whose only impression of the 
piece was gained from Mr. Proctor’s description. 
Throughout my career as a sculptor nothing has 
meant so much to me as the encouragement and 
appreciation of the man who first declared The 
Wounded Comrade a success. 
In recognition of this first bronze, I was made a 
member of the American Sculpture Society. Inas- 
much as such a cordial reception was accorded to The 
Wounded Comrade by artists as well as by the gen- 
eral public, I felt justified in devoting more attention 
to sculpture. I felt that I had many stories to tell 
about elephants and that I could tell these stories 
more effectively by the work of my hands than in 
any other way. One chapter is told in the group of 
