Warthogs 
boggy piece of ground, a mile or so from camp, 
we came upon fresh elephant spoor—probably 
not more than a day old. It is more than likely 
that we had frightened the small herd from the 
vicinity by our attack on the buffalo. There 
were seven or eight elephants in this lot; one 
must have been a huge brute, as his tracks were 
enormous, being deeply imprinted in the clayey 
soil. Weddell and I followed up this spoor for 
six or seven hours, hoping against hope that 
they might rest for a time, and that we should 
eventually come up with them. We were, 
however, doomed to disappointment, for al- 
though we passed some palm trees on whose 
fruit they had made a meal, chewing the nuts 
and leaving the fibre on the ground, which 
seemed fairly fresh, yet the spoor led us into an 
almost impenetrable jungle, through which we 
had great difficulty in moving, so that as the 
day was drawing on, we were reluctantly com- 
pelled to give up the chase and return to camp. 
On the way back I came upon a sow warthog 
with a litter of young pigs by her side. As we 
wanted some meat, the buffalo bull meat being 
extraordinarily tough, and only fit for niggers, 
I shot her. Cooe and the rest of the boys knob- 
kerried the small porkers until I rushed in and 
saved the life of one of them. I tried to tie him 
up, but somewhat unsuccessfully, giving him to 
Cooe to carry. In this way we at last got back 
117 
