In Wildest Africa ^ 



kind — the most dangerous you can go in for in this part 

 of the world — an elephant-hunt. In prehistoric days the 

 mammoth was hunted with bow and arrow in almost the 

 same fashion as the elephant is to-day by certain tribes 

 of natives. Taking part in one of their expeditions, one 

 feels it easy to go back in imagination to the early eras 

 of mankind. This feeling imparts a peculiar fascination 

 to the experience. 



After a good deal of trouble I had got into friendly 

 relations with some of these nomadic hunters. It was a 

 difficult matter, because they fight shy of Europeans and 

 of the natives from the coast, such as my bearers and 

 followers generally. I knew, moreover, that our friendship 

 might be of short duration, for these distrustful children 

 of the velt might disappear at any moment, leaving not 

 a trace behind them. However, I had at least succeeded, 

 by promises of rich rewards in the shape of iron and brass 

 wire, in winning their goodwill. After many days of 

 negotiation they told me that elephants might very likely 

 be met with shortly in a certain distant part of the velt. 

 The region in question was impracticable for a large 

 caravan. Water is very scarce there, rock pools affording 

 only enough for a few men, and only for a short time. 

 At this period of the year the animals had either to make 

 incredibly long journeys to their drinking-places, or else 

 content themselves with the fresh succulent grass sprouting 

 up after the rains, and with the moisture in the young 

 leaves of the trees and bushes. 



I set out one day in the early morning for this locality 

 with a few of my men in company with the Wandorobo. 



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