162 THE LAND. OF THE TION 
we did what we could to photograph them, but while we 
waited to make sure of their “ivories,”’ they had gained the 
edge of a swampy bit of valley where the bush was thick. 
This wouldn’t have saved them from a hunter, but it was 
sufficient to embarrass the would-be photographer. I 
got within seventy yards of one big cow, but she went 
into dark shade and was lost to my camera. Whether 
any result shall reward our efforts to get a picture I cannot 
at present say, but even if we failed, it was a most fasci- 
nating stalk, the dark bulk of the great beasts, moving 
in that mysteriously silent way, through brittle and thorny 
bush. Here and there a vast ear would be thrown out 
and forward. They seemed to suspect some strange 
thing near (though the wind was steady and in our favour) 
and showed some restlessness for a time. Then, having 
apparently found the sort of feeding they liked, they settled 
down for the day in the deep shade, and so, undisturbed, 
we left them. 
How is it possible for these animals whose sight is so 
bad that they cannot detect a man at fifty yards distance, 
to take the wonderfully straight course, they invariably 
do, when making their great marches? If you want to steer 
a good course in a difficult country to find the nearest way 
from point to point, avoiding rough places and deep fords 
or swamps, follow travelling elephant. You cannot im- 
prove on his topography. He knows where he wants to 
go and how to get there, by the shortest and safest road, 
How, without vision which would enable him to recog- 
nize locality, he does this, no one knows. He will wander 
up and down in the bush he feeds in, like any other browsing 
beast. But once travelling is the order of the day, he 
“stakes his line” unerringly. 
This great country that stretches from Sergoit to the 
Turquell River is much cut up by steep and swampy streams. 
In the rains, and for weeks following them, these are so 
