THE STORY OF AN OUTING 



A bit of fortuitous luck fell to my lot on the first 

 day's trek. Major Kirkwood, riding ahead, discovered 

 a crocodile asleep on a shelf of the bank of the river. 

 There are no sloping banks to the rivers. They are 

 either rocky or, if in alluvial soil, perpendicular, and range 

 from four feet upward in height, according to the state 

 of the water. Rains on Mt. Kenia would give full 

 banks, and two or three days without rain would reduce 

 the water-flow to comparatively small dimensions. A 

 bit of the bank had caved in and formed a shelf perhaps 

 twenty feet in length. The crocodile was asleep on this 

 shelf on the opposite side of the river in about one 

 foot of water, enjoying a sun-bath. Responding to the 

 Major's signal, we galloped up, leaving the gun-bearers in 

 the rear. I u^ed_ a saddle scabbard, same as we do in 

 the Hoddes, and had my .35 automatic Remington 

 always at hand. To capture the crock I realized that 

 I must paralyze him. I was about six rods distant, and 

 from my shoulder to his level was a drop of eight or ten 

 feet; he was facing me and I shot to break his spine 

 just back of his neck-joint, and succeeded. I then shot 

 the remaining four cartridges into practically the same 

 place. His head, at an angle of fifteen degrees, was 

 slowly turning one way or another in evident pain. 

 I went down the river opposite him, and distant about 

 fifteen yards, and shot him in the eye, at the proper 

 angle to have the pellet penetrate the brain. A croco- 

 dile's brain is simply an enlargement of the spinal cord, 

 and is not more than three or four inches long and not 

 much larger than your two fingers. I then shot him 

 twice through the vitals and awaited results. He could 

 use none of his legs to force himself into the water, but 



So 



