AFRICAN CAMP FIRES 



his revolver three times — eighteen shots — into the 

 head and forequarters of that warthog without 

 much effect. Incidentally the warthog had given 

 him a good lively time, charging again and again. 

 The weapon has not nearly the shocking power of 

 even our .38 service — a cartridge determined as too 

 light for serious business. 



One afternoon I gave my shotgun to one of the 

 porters to carry afield, remarking facetiously to all 

 and sundry that he looked like a gunbearer. After 

 twenty minutes we ran across a rhinoceros. I spent 

 some time trying to manoeuvre into position for a 

 photograph of the beast. However, the attempt 

 failed. We managed to dodge his rush. Then, 

 after the excitement had died, we discovered the 

 porter and the shotgun up a tree. He descended 

 rather shamefaced. Nobody said anything about 

 it. A half hour later we came upon another rhino- 

 ceros. The beast was visible at some distance, 

 and downhill. Nevertheless the porter moved a 

 little nearer a tree. This was too much for Memba 

 Sasa. All the rest of the afternoon he "joshed" 

 that porter in much the same terms we would have 

 employed in the same circumstances. 



"That place ahead," said he, "looks like a good place 

 for rhinoceros. Perhaps you'd better climb a tree." 



236 



