NORTH-EASTERN RHODESIA 109 



Stronghold of Genesis that the most ugly of the 

 earth's surviving pachyderms, the rhinoceros, 

 roams at will, browses at his heart's desire, and 

 wallows in his mud baths at his most primitive 

 majesty's pleasure. 



Poor old rhinoceros ! I always think there is 

 something pathetic about you as well as some- 

 thing hideous and fearsome ! It is as though the 

 onward march of time had left you far, far 

 behind — a struggling survivor of another world, 

 a lone, solitary old animal. Between the 

 Muchingas and the Chinicoatali Mountains there 

 is a huge, open valley, where rhinoceroses wander 

 in great numbers. On either side of this play- 

 ground of pachyderms rugged, castellated ranges 

 tower heavenwards. Here in the early mornings 

 the lions roar and roar from their rocky fastnesses 

 on the flanks of the mountains until the air seems 

 to vibrate with the might of their voices. Along 

 every native path, up each age-beaten track, 

 one may see the spoor of the rhino. In every 

 pool the mud has been churned up by the great 

 beasts, everywhere twigs have been browsed, 

 streams traversed by the silent army, each unit 

 of which carries two murderous horns. Ask the 

 members of the mixed Awemba and Awisa popu- 

 lation which scantily people this land, and they 

 will tell you " chipembere " are on all sides. 

 At night the beasts silently stalk around and 

 around the clusters of huts; in the daytime they 

 hide themselves in the dense forests which flank 

 the offshoots of the mountain ranges. Roaming 

 at will, feeding at will, drinking as they please, 

 the life of the rhinoceros in this vast valley of 

 the far-distant interior is one of pachydermal 

 peace. But there comes a day when a puny 



