"LITTLE HALF-BROTHER" 65 



prevent the growth of those fine manes one some- 

 times sees in captivity. 



Much of Boculy's skill, I thought on reflection, 

 could be cultivated by the white man if he gave years 

 of time and concentration ; but never the finer points. 



Boculy was an exception even among the Africans. 

 None of our other hunters, skinners or gunbearers 

 even remotely approached him. I know I was in 

 despair when on the plains he would look foiu* miles 

 away and pick out, from what I thought just a violet 

 rose-red blue of crag and sand and bush, a motionless 

 rhino which, even after being posted, I could hardly 

 discern through the binoculars. 



But we did not appreciate Boculy's craft at first 

 and sometimes as he shambled along, seemingly half 

 asleep like his half-brothers, the elephants, and mut- 

 tering to himself, I thought he was just fooling us, 

 pretending to examine the earth in which we could 

 see no marks of any kind, and going through the 

 motions to earn his baksheesh. 



"He's a faker," I said to Osa, one day. But she 

 had more confidence in him. 



"Give him a chance," she replied. "He looks to 

 me as if he knew his business." 



She had no sooner said this than Boculy stooped 

 in the grass; posed motionless like a pointer again; 

 picked up more bits of mud; looked at some leaves; 

 sniffed the trail this way and that on all sides for 



