322 THE LAND OF THE LION 



angles, ran some twenty or thirty yards, and fell with a 

 sharp squeaking cry, quite dead. After these two, I was 

 far more anxious to get a photograph of rhino than to 

 shoot them and spent much time and ran some risk, in 

 unavailing efforts. The bush was too thick, the light too 

 bad, or the rhino stamped and snorted so when I got 

 nearly within photographing distance (you cannot do 

 much with a kodak at more than fifteen yards) that I had 

 to keep handing my camera to my nervous gunbearer 

 and grasping my rifle. 



In this way I find I have approached close to more 

 than fifty and never had actual trouble with any of them 

 till a few days ago. 



Now, the danger of the rhino is twofold. In the first 

 place, you are apt to stumble on him most unexpectedly. 

 He makes very little noise when he feeds, and moves his 

 unwieldy body with unaccountably little crackling of 

 bush, even in places where you find it impossible to walk 

 noiselessly. I have often stood silently and watched him 

 feeding amid thorns that were dry and brittle, and over 

 ground thickly covered with fallen twigs. He would go 

 about his business with a silence that was almost uncanny 

 Listen as I would, scarcely a sound betrayed him, yet 

 there he was before my eyes, not forty yards away. 



In the second place, if you do surprise him at close 

 quarters, it is impossible to say what he may do. He may 

 snort and rush away, or he may rush away as though 

 escape was his one aim and object, and as suddenly turn 

 right around and charge over men and baggage, carrying 

 ruin and consternation in his train; or he may charge head 

 on without one instant's hesitation. The smell of many 

 animals distinctly indicates their near presence. A herd 

 of wapiti or kongoni can be smelt at several hundred 

 yards distance in still warm weather. A band of lions are 

 unmistakable when you get close to them in the long grass. 



