412 AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 



They were standing among bushes and patches of rank, 

 unburned grass; it was just ten o'clock, and they were 

 evidently preparing to lie down for the day. As they stood 

 they kept twitching their big ears; both rhino and ele- 

 phant are perpetually annoyed, as are most game, by biting 

 flies, large and small. We got up very close, Kermit with 

 his camera and I with the heavy rifle. Too little is known 

 of these northern square-mouthed rhino for us to be sure 

 that they are not lingering slowly toward extinction; and, 

 lest this should be the case, we were not willing to kill any 

 merely for trophies; while, on the other hand, we deemed it 

 really important to get good groups for the National Mu- 

 seum in Washington and the American Museum in New 

 York, and a head for the National Collection of Heads and 

 Horns which was started by Mr. Hornaday, the director of 

 the Bronx Zoological Park. Moreover Kermit and Loring 

 desired to get some photos of the animals while they were 

 alive. 



Things did not go well this time, however. The rhinos 

 saw us before either Kermit or Loring could get a good 

 picture. As they wheeled I fired hastily into the chest of 

 one, but not quite in the middle, and away they dashed 

 for they do not seem as truculent as the common rhino. 

 We followed them. After an hour the trails separated; 

 Cuninghame went on one, but failed to overtake the ani- 

 mal, and we did not see him until we reached camp late 

 that afternoon. 



Meanwhile our own gun-bearers followed the bloody 

 spoor of the rhino I had hit, Kermit and I close behind, 

 and Loring with us. The rhino had gone straight off at a 

 gallop, and the trail offered little difficulty, so we walked 



