CAUTION IN THE BUSH. 177 



One's senses become wonderfully acute when much 

 employed at this sort of work, but still they are far 

 inferior to those of the animals which are being pursued. 



You move with great caution, and apparently very 

 quietly through the dark avenues that the elephant has 

 made for you ; yet, upon getting a peep at the branches 

 of a far-distant tree, twenty or thirty monkeys are to be 

 seen watching you, and skipping about from branch to 

 branch, as though in derision of your unskilful attempt 

 at a surprise. The single note repeatedly and slowly 

 uttered by some hermit-like bird, suddenly ceases as you 

 come within a hundred yards of him, and he flits away 

 under the arches of the forest, his brilliant plumage 

 glittering in the sun. These, and many other facts, 

 intimate that man's faculties are dull and imperfect, in 

 comparison with those of the animals which live in these 

 mysterious regions. 



When you know that the giant of the forest is not 

 inferior in either the sense of smell or hearing to any 

 animal in creation, and has, besides, intelligence enough 

 to know that you are his enemy, and also for what you 

 have come, it becomes a matter of great care how, when, 

 and where to approach him. 



" They must never know you are coming, and have 

 time to make a plan/' was the advice of a famous 

 elephant-hunter. I carried it out on all possible 

 occasions. 



We continued our advance till we were within a hundred 

 yards of the elephant that we had first heard. We sat 

 down and listened for some minutes to discover if any 



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