HAMLYN'S MENAGERIE MAGAZINE. 
37 
on its tripod. Then, with the utmost caution, we 
moved out again into the open. Carefully watch- 
ing the animal through the glasses, we could see 
every movement so distinctly (he was only some 
100 yards away now, for we had moved closer to 
him under cover of the bush) that it seemed as if 
we could almost throw a stone on to him. Setting- 
up the camera and carefully focussing the instru- 
ment, it was not long before the filming of the 
African elephant was an actual feat. This was 
not sufficient. We were wanting some more ex- 
citing movements. What had been recorded was 
of interest enough in that it shewed the movements 
of feeding, and the cute way in which elephants 
test the wind. This is done by blowing sand into 
the air. The lighter particles of dust drift away 
on the air currents in the direction of the wind, 
and, strange though it may seem, a change of 
wind will always see the elephants change their 
position to lacing the wind, although in herds; as 
long as one or other is SO' placed, the remainder 
may move about at random. The lazy flap of the 
monster's huge ears was also taken, and, with 
this set complete, the exciting moment arrived. 
Picking up camera and gun, position w : as 
taken up at an angle of the road about 50 yards 
further down, the, angle being some 75 degrees. 
Immediately in front was a donga some two* feet 
deep, leading straight away and gradually deep- 
ening to 10 or 12 feet about twenty yardls. away, 
the whole position forming very much the shape 
of a broad arrow. It was possible to see some 
30 or 40 yards down each leg of road. Here; I 
was left to myself, with camera placed in position 
and the gun referred to quietly resting on a con- 
venient shrub, into which in case of trouble, it 
was decided to drop the camera. I waited for 
# what we all were hoping would happen — a picture 
of a charging elephant. One of the boys had 
been sent round on to the far side of the ele- 
phant, the others stretched across the bush at 
intervals on my right. All was quiet until the 
signal was given — the breaking of a branch; and 
then, to say that I have never lived a longer ten 
seconds would not convey the sensations which 
chased up and down my spine. From heel to 
head and head to heel I went cold, hot, tepid, 
rigid, limp; I could hear my heart beating some- 
where about 120 to the minute; mv knees felt 
weak, and I did not know quite where to look. 
For the animal might break anywhere, and I 
knew he had got wind of the boy as he was crash-^ 
ing through the scrub towards me. Two limbs 
were cool and collected — my arms. Thev were 
resting one on the camera, the other on the film 
control handle, and I was only hoping the animal 
would not come out too near me, so as to give 
me a chance of getting, at any rate, a piece of 
film. Nearer I heard the crashing, then silence. 
With every nerve tingling with excitement I 
waited, and at last caught sight of the old rogue 
along the donga. He had moved towards me until 
he entered it, and then, unfortunately, went up 
wind (away from mej. The last I saw of thj 
rogue of the Addo Bush was standing on a fallen 
log with his fore feet, his ears projecting and his 
trunk curled up as he emitted a shrill trumpet .is 
though it were a challenge. 
This was only some 120 yards away, a beau- 
tiful opportunity for a clean shot, but we were 
without a permit to shoot (the animals are pre- 
served). The excuse given was that no permits 
were issued on account of the danger attending 
the hunting of these animals, and yet we had suc- 
ceeded in filming them. 
® 
UNCLE SAM'S WINGED MESSAGE- 
BEARERS. 
By Felix J. Koch. 
"When every other means has failed, remem- 
ber we have still the pigeons!" 
The officer glanced meaningly toward the 
skies, then led the way across a sun-filled quad 
at the great Camp Sherman cantonment to where a 
flock of pigeons billed and cooed while they picked 
the scattered grain some privates had thrown 
them. The pigeons appeared to be the kind which 
you and I raised in the garden at home, back in 
our vanished youth. 
One bird, a big white fellow, rose in the air 
as we approached^wheeled and was off behind the 
tawny-hued barracks nearby in a trice, then, sud- 
denly, out of somewhere, he was back, and pro- 
ceeded to enter the, coop. 
"Do- you know," our officer-guide suggested 
as he proceeded to toss the bird a bit of cracker, 
"the life of your boy and of my boy and of the 
soldiers of our own land and all our Allies, mav 
rest squarely on that bird some day— that bird and 
the comrades you see in air.-" 
He saw we were interested and so he led on 
to where Uncle Sam's big clean pigeon, cotes 
rose above the mesa in the quadrangle. He gave 
a few hurried orders and in less time than you Id 
think — for up at Camp Sherman thev execute 
orders as they would at the front — the Pigeon- 
Detachment, as it is called, prepared for service. 
Sergeant Abernathv, by a word, had assembled 
three corporals, six first-class privates, five ordin- 
ary privates, and gave them ciuick orders for a 
demonstration of the work of the birds. While 
the men prepared messages for the sending, he 
told of the actual training implied. 
