Ill 



AN AFRICAN ELEPHANT-HUNT 



THE sportsman visiting Africa is usually anxious to bag a 

 good specimen of a bull elephant, and it was this laudable 

 desire that prompted Fuguet and me to -lead our caravan three 

 days' march from a good game country lower down to the north- 

 em slopes of Mount Kenia. Here, in the thick bush and forests 

 of a part of British East Africa known as Meru, a few herds 

 of elephants had survived the relentless search for ivory. It 

 was a region of rolling hills composed of a brilliant red clay, at 

 this time worked into a sticky mud by the continual February 

 rains. A large portion of the country was covered by grass 

 growing to a height of ten feet, through which tangle the per- 

 spiring sportsman had to force his way for miles at a stretch. 



We waded and splashed through overflowed, reed - covered 

 swamps in the vicinity of numerous small streams, and then 

 encountered magnificent tropical forests, where we were con- 

 tinually impeded and tripped up by vines, lianas, and a tangle 

 of undergrowth. Many paths wound through parts of the 

 forest, but it was dangerous to follow them without a local 

 guide, on account of the cleverly concealed pitfalls of the 

 natives. These commonly consisted of a deep pit concealed 

 by broken branches and grass, adorned at the bottom with 

 three large sharpened stakes intended to impale the unfortu- 

 nate elephant. 



The most exasperating growth occurred where the natives 

 had at one time cleared the land and then allowed it to go to 



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