xxxvi THE HUNTER'S END 315 



son, with the obduracy of dementia, insisted that if 

 a native could eat it, he himself could eat it also. 

 That night the end came, and he passed away in 

 great agony, accusing his boys to the last of having 

 deliberately poisoned him and, next day, those 

 staunch fellows, who had stuck faithfully to him till 

 death, buried his body and placed stones over the 

 grave to prevent hysenas disturbing his remains. 



The last entry in his diary reads : ' Feel like 

 dying, but must get right. Nothing to eat for 

 seven days. Elephant here if only I could get 

 after them.' 



Could any words be more vividly characteristic 

 of a hunter, or so full of poignant tragedy as that 

 last sentence of Watkinson's ' Elephant here, if 

 only I could get after them ! ' Poor fellow, he was 

 game to the last! Can any man wish to be more 

 when the ' Angel with the darker draught ' draws 

 nigh ? 



