34 IN MALAY FORESTS. 



to nearly sunset was not more than fifteen miles 

 (from point to point it was perhaps seven); but 

 these miles had been covered step by step carry- 

 ing the weight of a heavy rifle under a tropical 

 sun, bent double to evade the thorns that clutched 

 at everything, stepping delicately to avoid the dead 

 leaves that crackled under foot ; and, with every 

 nerve on the alert, we did not estimate the distance 

 by miles. 



Early the next morning we went back at the spot 

 where we had left the tracks the evening before. 

 We found that the rhinoceros had lain down and 

 slept the night not far from where we had left him : 

 he had eaten but very little, and had not wallowed. 

 He had now, of course, many hours' start of us, and 

 we had to make such speed as we could in order 

 to overtake him, and yet to exercise extreme caution 

 that we might not stumble upon him and be charged 

 unawares. We had to move in perfect silence or 

 we should not come up with him, and at the same 

 time we had to keep our eyes on the tracks step by 

 step. The difficulty of following the tracks even of 

 a rhinoceros is extraordinary. One would imagine 

 that an animal weighing perhaps two tons, and whose 

 footprints are nearly twelve inches across, would be 

 easy to follow; but time after time we had to stop, 

 retrace our steps, or make a cast through the forest. 

 On hard dry ground covered with leaves only the 

 barest impression was left: we had often to lift the 

 leaves to look for the mark of a toe-nail dinting 

 perhaps the undermost leaf to the ground. Often, 

 too, the tracks appeared to go straight on, and it 



