A Red-Letter Day 



and swaying his head from side to side to try 

 and find out more about what has frightened him. 

 He looks something like what I have heard de- 

 scribed as an ironclad let loose at full steam 

 ahead with its steering gear gone wrong. 



There was nothing to do in this case but shoot, 

 and as they were so close I knew there would 

 be precious little time for reloading, in case either 

 or both were not knocked over with one shot 

 apiece. 



However something had to be done at once, 

 and there was no friendly tree to get behind 

 into the bargain, though if there had been a tree 

 near it might have added to the predicament, 

 since if I had got behind it they would have been 

 bound to spot the movement, whilst as it was 

 there was just the chance that they had not as 

 yet seen anything definite. My Masai gun- 

 bearer behaved splendidly, and neither moved 

 nor shouted. The first rhino was coming in a 

 bee-line in my direction, and being by now 

 thoroughly alarmed on getting our wind strong, 

 luckily had his head well down, so that I could get 

 in a shot with my '400 cordite over his head 

 into the junction of his neck with his body. He 

 must have been about thirty-five yards away 

 when I fired, and, as luck would have it, I hit 

 him where I wished, and dropped him in his 

 tracks, throwing up dust and grass, whilst squeal- 

 ing like a stuck pig. 



85 



