Warthogs 



boggy piece of ground, a mile or so from camp, 

 we came upon fresh elephant spoor probably 

 not more than a day old. It is more than likely 

 that we had frightened the small herd from the 

 vicinity by our attack on the buffalo. There 

 were seven or eight elephants in this lot; one 

 must have been a huge brute, as his tracks were 

 enormous, being deeply imprinted in the clayey 

 soil. Weddell and I followed up this spoor for 

 six or seven hours, hoping against hope that 

 they might rest for a time, and that we should 

 eventually come up with them. We were, 

 however, doomed to disappointment, for al- 

 though we passed some palm trees on whose 

 fruit they had made a meal, chewing the nuts 

 and leaving the fibre on the ground, which 

 seemed fairly fresh, yet the spoor led us into an 

 almost impenetrable jungle, through which we 

 had great difficulty in moving, so that as the 

 day was drawing on, we were reluctantly com- 

 pelled to give up the chase and return to camp. 

 On the way back I came upon a sow warthog 

 with a litter of young pigs by her side. As we 

 wanted some meat, the buffalo bull meat being 

 extraordinarily tough, and only fit for niggers, 

 I shot her. Cooe and the rest of the boys knob- 

 kerried the small porkers until I rushed in and 

 saved the life of one of them. I tried to tie him 

 up, but somewhat unsuccessfully, giving him to 

 Cooe to carry. In this way we at last got back 



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