202 THE LAND OF THE LION 



fastnesses of the mountain, came not one, but three herds 

 in stately march before me. 



I stood a long time on the ridge's crest and tried to fix 

 the panorama in my memory. Here was Africa indeed. 

 The Africa of my dreams. Africa that had been hedged 

 off, hidden away from the busy movements, the all-changing 

 activities of restless man. The Africa that had known no 

 change for thousands and thousands of years. Here it 

 lay at last at my feet. It waited for me. I had come a 

 long way to see it, and that morning's view well repaid 

 the toil. 



After carefully examining all three herds, there must 

 have been more than one hundred elephants in them 

 we concluded that there was not an extraordinary big 

 tusker in the lot. And this was not to be wondered at, 

 as very large and old bulls seldom are permitted to keep in 

 the herd, and so are usually found alone. 



The wind, as I said, was steady and fair for us. But 

 the herds stood in such relation the one to the other, that it 

 was impossible to pass between them. Had we attempted 

 to do so, we should have been quickly inclosed. There 

 were no specially large tusks in the farther groups, so I 

 determined to take two quite good-sized bulls, who led the 

 herd we had first seen. And now the last hundred yards 

 of approach alone remained, and, keeping well down yard 

 by yard, we drew near. 



I had often been told by men who had shot many ele- 

 phant, that everyone's knees felt a bit weak when, for the 

 first time, he stalked close for the shot. I cannot honestly 

 say I had any such feeling. A thought of the presumption 

 of it all did come to me, as higher and higher the black 

 bulks towered. What pigmies we were! And what mere 

 popguns our rifles seemed. How could we harm creatures 

 as mighty as these ? Why did they not move forward in a 

 body and crush us into the very earth ? Had they wished 



