-^ A Dying Race of Giants 



decayed trees which stood up out of the undergrowth 

 here and there looked Hke small stakes. In the ever- 

 changing light one loses all sense of the vastness of things 

 and distances. 



For once the mist rolls off rapidly ; a gust of wind 

 drives away the clouds. The sun breaks through. Look ! 

 there is a whole herd of elephants below us in the 

 valley ! But in another second the impenetrable forest 

 of trees screens them from my camera. At last they 

 become clearly visible again, and I manage to photograph 

 two cow-elephants in the distance. The sun vanishes 

 again now, and an hour later I have at last the whole 

 herd clearly before me in the hollow. How the little 

 calves cling to their mothers ! How quietly the massive 

 beasts move about, now disappearing into the gullies, 

 now reappearing and climbing up the hillside with a 

 sureness of foot that makes them seem more like auto- 

 matons than animals. Every now and again the ruddy 

 earth-coloured backs emerge from the mass of foliage. 

 A wonderful and moving picture ! For I know full well 

 that the gigantic mothers are caring for their children 

 and protecting them from the human fiend who seeks 

 to destroy them with pitfalls, poisoned arrows, or death- 

 dealing guns. How cautiously they all move, scenting 

 the wind with uplifted trunks, and keeping a look-out for 

 pitfalls ! Every movement shows careful foresight ; the 

 gigantic old leaders have evidently been through some 

 dire experiences. 



Suddenly a warning cry rings out. Immediately the 

 whole herd disappears noiselessly into the higher rain- 



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