188 THE BONDS OF AFRICA 



the two rhino turned like a pair of polo ponies 

 and launched themselves upon us. I knew Elmi 

 could be trusted, so I pointed the lens at the 

 leader and squeezed the bulb. Photographing 

 two rhino run mad is not pleasant work if you 

 are standing in their track; however, as soon 

 as I had clicked the shutter I jumped behind 

 Elmi, who had dropped on one knee and was just 

 about to pull the trigger. There was not time 

 for me to seize the rifle. No sooner had I realized 

 this, as in the flash of a second, than the '375 

 cracked out sharp and clear. I saw the leading 

 animal, now only a few yards from us, his little, 

 evil pig eyes the very incarnation of a devilish 

 fury, halt for a fraction of a moment as Elmi's 

 bullet hit him full on the base of the horn. For 

 but a quarter of a second he seemed stunned ; 

 the next instant, snorting loudly, he wheeled to 

 the left, a model of pachydermal indignation. 

 I had wondered what course of action the second 

 rhino would pursue, so I hastily grabbed the gun 

 from Elmi and rammed another cartridge in 

 the breech ; but the wheeler of this wrathful 

 tandem had gone the way of his or her mate. 

 Over the sandy-soiled Nyika (desert) the pair 

 were rushing, temper and terror curiously inter- 

 mingled. I heaved a little sigh of relief, but 

 Elmi merely shook his head, scowled at them, and, 

 breaking for a moment into Swahili, described 

 them as " M'Baya sana ! " (very bad!). He 

 told me that on one occasion a rhino had ripped 

 his khaki shirt open, so Elmi was entitled to bear 

 the species a certain amount of animosity. 

 Unfortunately the snapshots were disappointing. 

 The camera was only quarter-plate size, and I fear 

 my focus was all wrong. 



Game was very abundant along the path from 



