OUR THIRD SAFARI AND SECOND RHINO 



and once behind the shoulder, as the rhino turned 

 slightly. Wilson and the Kikuyu made off, the 

 former, unfortunately, as before with my husband's 

 second rifle. Then began a struggle for breath, 

 snortings, crashing of boughs as the beast went to 

 and fro, now hidden from sight. My husband again 

 took cover, and waited. Still the sounds continued, 

 until there were three long heart-rending groans, 

 and all was silent. After a few minutes, my hus- 

 band, creeping from tree to tree, came upon the huge 

 beast lying dead ; so big he looked lying there, one 

 does not realise how big they are till one is close 

 to the animal. By breaking down a few branches 

 to let in the sun, I took some photographs, but they 

 were not very good, owing to the shade and shadows 

 from the trees. When my husband killed his first 

 rhino it was out in the open, with a lovely side-light, 

 but, alas ! my last film had been used the day be- 

 fore, I have never ceased to regret it. The Kikuyu 

 soon began to cut the rhino up ; the horns and feet 

 and some hide for us, meat for them. The two 

 orderlies took the giant's share and brought pounds 

 and pounds — most of it, in fact — regardless of the 

 extra weight for the porters. They intended to dry 

 it to take back to Nairobi. They were so selfish 

 and greedy (their meat took four porters with poles 

 to carry it) that my husband had to put his foot 

 down, and forbid so much. We had not the porters 

 to spare. The walk back to the edge of the escarp- 



195 



