202 THE LAND OF THE LION 
fastnesses of the mountain, came not one, but three herds: 
in stately march before me. 
I stood a long time on the ridge’s crest and tried to fix 
the panorama in my memory. Here was Africa indeed. 
The Africa of my dreams. Africa that had been hedged 
off, hidden away from the busy movements, the all-changing 
activities of restless man. ‘The Africa that had known no 
change for thousands and thousands of years. Here it 
lay at last at my feet. It waited for me. I had come a 
long way to see it, and that morning’s view well repaid 
the toil. 
After carefully examining all three herds, there must 
have been more than one hundred elephants in them — 
we concluded that there was not an extraordinary big 
tusker in the lot. And this was not to be wondered at, 
as very large and old bulls seldom are permitted to keep in 
the herd, and so are usually found alone. 
The wind, as I said, was steady and fair for us. But 
the herds stood in such relaticn the one to the other, that it 
was impossible to pass between them. Had we attempted 
to do so, we should have been quickly inclosed. ‘There 
were no specially large tusks in the farther groups, so I 
determined to take two quite good-sized bulls, who led the 
herd we had first seen. And now the last hundred yards. 
of approach alone remained, and, keeping well down yard 
by yard, we drew near. 
I had often been told by men who had shot many ele- 
phant, that everyone’s knees felt a bit weak when, for the 
first time, he stalked close for the shot. I cannot honestly 
say I had any such feeling. A thought of the presumption 
of it all did come to me, as higher and higher the black 
bulks towered. What pigmies we were! And what mere 
popguns our rifles seemed. How could we harm creatures. 
as mighty as these? Why did they not move forward in a 
body and crush us into the very earth? Had they wished 
