1610 



ZOOLOGICAL SOCIETY BULLETIN 



saw one in its last throes. It had jumped from 

 the trail into a deep pocket of mud and only 

 the head was visible. 



When caught, the noble beast is often dis- 

 gracefully beaten to death with clubs ; the skull 

 and even other bones are shattered. Supersti- 

 tion does not allow the use of spears, arrows or 

 knives. I saw nineteen of these carcasses, that 

 putrefy quickly in the tropical climate, which 

 for the natives only heightens their tastiness. It 

 would be dangerous for anyone staying in these 

 regions to interfere with their methods of hunt- 

 ing. I myself nearly came to grief for remon- 

 strating with natives who were about to put an 

 old woman to death to propitiate the evil spirits. 

 Hunting results had become so bad that she had 

 been accused of bewitching both hunters and 

 traps. In pleading for her I appeased their 

 wrath by assuring them that my own medicine 

 wis strong enough to banish all witchcraft, on 

 condition that the traps should be changed. My 

 advice was taken, results proved most gratify- 

 ing, and the delay saved her life, though she 

 had faced the ordeal as a matter of necessity. 



The general belief is that the Okapi is one 

 of the shyest of creatures, but my experiences 

 prove that it would peacefully live in the imme- 

 diate neighborhood of villages if it were not 

 killed at once. Apparently unfrightened, two 

 Okapi habitually roamed near a village situated 

 in the midst of the forest and inhabited by a 

 few old people whose duty it was to maintain 

 communication by gong with a far distant son 

 of an Azande chief. 



Since the Belgian government has undertaken 

 to stamp out cannibalism, hunger for meat has 

 driven these negroes to seek the game of the 

 forest. No longer able to supply their occa- 

 sional feasts by raids on adjoining villages, so 

 large and inoffensive an animal as the Okapi is 

 a tempting prize. Though hunting Okapi is 

 Legally forbidden, many chiefs have stationed in 

 special camps hunters, who are forbidden by 

 superstition to eat Okapi meat. In course of 

 time one section after another is thus depleted 

 of the Okapi. Some years ago the great Mang- 

 betu chief, Zebandra, with the aid of tight hun- 

 dred drivers, caught eleven within a week. An 

 Azande showed me twenty-two pitfalls in which 

 nine Okapi had perished, not to mention a num- 

 ber of others that had fallen to his gun which 

 lie loaded with self-hammered plugs. 



My wish to observe the Okapi in its mystic 

 haunts, to listen to its frantic rush into deeper 

 wilderness, was often looked upon by Okapi 

 hunters as the veil for a desire to find in these 

 forests some product even more valuable than 



rubber. They care little to see the Okapi, each 

 series of tracks gives them information as cer- 

 tain as if the Okapi were in plain view. Indeed 

 a fresh trail possesses all the stimulating factors 

 of the certainty of success and offers the thrills 

 and emotions of a great novel. But for the 

 white man the physical and mental strain in the 

 moist heat and monotonous gloom of the forest 

 detracts from the pleasure. The tangled vege- 

 tation forces one to stoop, the gnarly roots, 

 stumps, and creepers impede one's progress, and 

 after miles of tripping and slipping in the nar- 

 row trails or dragging oneself through the mud- 

 dy, steaming swamps it is a welcome change to 

 walk in the firm sandy bed of the shallow mean- 

 dering brooks. 



One day my hopes to see a live Okapi were 

 well nigh realized. Throughout the night a 

 storm had raged and the rumbling of the far- 

 distant thunder could still be heard. The tree- 

 tops never emerged from the vapors that envel- 

 oped all in their drizzling mist, and gusts of 

 wind scattered showers of raindrops. In ten 

 miles we had crossed seventeen streamlets and 

 their adjoining swamps and had reached the 

 higher lying portion with its more open forest, 

 tin- real haunts of the Okapi. 



The whistle of the oriole was the signal di- 

 recting our guide and we soon followed fresh 

 Okapi tracks. Forest boar and sitatunga had 

 passed in the early morning, and near one brook 

 a troop of bongo had stopped. Our two Okapi 

 traveled together throughout the day. but late 

 in the afternoon, when it started to rain, had 

 separated. Here was our chance, for all minor 

 noises were drowned by the falling drops. 

 Trusted Amadu kept on the move; the others 

 were far behind when we finally drew near to 

 the Okapi. In the last hour we had covered 

 not more than thirty yards. Under the cover 

 of heavy vegetation we had crept along a fallen 

 giant tree and had come to a column of driver 

 ants that ended our hopes, for, attacked by 

 them, we both moved when within less than fif- 

 teen feet of the Okapi. Its peculiar odor was 

 still in our nostrils and the swishing of its tail 

 and stamping of its feet in our ears when our 

 coveted prize bolted. On our return to the camp 

 at midnight we found that our companions had 

 remained in the forest. 



In the Uele we could not think of capturing 

 live animals, distances and lack of time would 

 have foiled any such enterprise, but on leaving 

 for the Ituri we met an old friend. Commandant 

 M. Siffer. who offered invaluable advice. At 

 Poko a letter from President Osborn. extend- 

 ing his generous congratulations, reached us 



