ON SAFARI. RHINO AND GIRAFFE 95 



As soon as we reached the rhino, Heller with his 

 Wakamba skinners pushed forward the three-quarters of a 

 mile to the eland, returning after midnight with the skin 

 and all the best parts of the meat. 



Around the dead rhino the scene was lit up both by the 

 moon and by the flicker of the fires. The porters made 

 their camp under a small tree a dozen rods to one side of 

 the carcass, building a low circular fence of branches on 

 which they hung their bright-colored blankets, two or 

 three big fires blazing to keep off possible lions. Half as 

 far on the other side of the rhino a party of naked savages 

 had established their camp, if camp it could be called, 

 for really all they did was to squat down round a couple 

 of fires with a few small bushes disposed round about. 

 The rhino had been opened, and they had already taken 

 out of the carcass what they regarded as titbits and what 

 we certainly did not grudge them. Between the two camps 

 lay the huge dead beast, his hide glistening in the moon- 

 light. In each camp the men squatted around the fires 

 chatting and laughing as they roasted strips of meat on 

 long sticks, the fitful blaze playing over them, now leaving 

 them in darkness, now bringing them out into a red relief. 

 Our own tent was pitched under another tree a hundred 

 yards off, and when I went to sleep, I could still hear the 

 drumming and chanting of our feasting porters; the sav- 

 ages were less at ease, and their revel was quiet. 



Early next morning I went back to camp, and soon after 

 reaching there again started out for a hunt. In the after- 

 noon I came on giraffes and got up near enough to shoot at 

 them. But they are such enormous beasts that I thought 

 them far nearer than they were. My bullet fell short, and 



