596 
FOREST AND STREAM 
November, 1920 
THE BONGO- WARIEST OF ANTELOPES 
LIVING IN THE DENSE EQUATORIAL FORESTS OF AFRICA THIS LITTLE- 
KNOWN ANIMAL HAS CONSISTENTLY AVOIDED THE PURSUIT OF HUNTERS 
By MAJOR C. H. ST1GAND 
T HE continent of Africa is geographi- 
cally like that of South America — 
a South America seen through the 
looking glass with Brazil on the west 
and Ecuador on the east. In this re- 
versed South America the Amazon bears 
a close resemblance to the Congo river, 
in its latitude^ the width of its basin, its 
innumerable tributaries and the luxuriant 
growth of its forests. 
Let us now imagine that the Orinoco 
is the Niger river, that Pernambuco is 
Loanda and that some point on the coast 
of Ecuador, say Guayaquil, is Mombasa 
of East Africa. If we draw a line from 
Guayaquil to the mouth of the Orinoco 
and from Guayaquil to Pernambuco we 
get a large triangle with its apex on the 
east coast — remembering always that 
our map is reversed — and its base on 
the west coast. In this triangle is situ- 
ated the greater part of the Amazon 
basin and its equatorial forests. 
The similar triangle in Africa — with 
its apex at Mombasa and its base on the 
west coast — gives a fair idea of the size 
and extent of the equatorial forests of 
that continent, so far as straight lines 
can define anything so irregular as the 
edge of a forest. There is, it is true, no 
forest actually at Mombasa, but there 
are isolated patches round Kilimanjaro, 
Kenia and elsewhere, whilst the forest 
gradually gets broader and more con- 
tinuous as it proceeds from apex to base 
of this triangle. 
These equatorial forests are of a 
denseness inconceivable to anyone who 
has only known the woods of other parts 
of the continent, woods with insufficient 
foliage to give shade and protection from 
the vertical rays of the sun. In the 
forest no ray, .or spot, of sunlight reach- 
es its floor — it is composed of great tim- 
ber trees whose trunks are festooned 
with lianas and whose branches bear, 
besides their own foliage, clusters of 
creepers, orchids and other parasites. 
Under the large trees grow masses of 
undergrowth, covering and concealing 
fallen trees in every stage of rot and 
decomposition. On the floor of the forest 
lies a carpet of broken twigs and branch- 
es, fungi, shoots and other short plants, 
such as nettles, which must depend en- 
tirely on reflected light for the forma- 
tion of their chlorophyl. 
The impenetrable heart of such forests 
has concealed some of the last of the 
larger beasts to remain undiscovered, 
such as the okapi, the giant hog and the 
bongo; whilst it is also the habitat of 
other little-known animals — the chim- 
panzee, gorilla and the scaly manis. 
In spite of the profusion of vegetation 
these forests do not harbor a great 
quantity of these, its special denizens, 
but there are numbers of Colobus 
( guereza ) and Cercopithecus monkeys, 
whilst one hears the raucous voices of 
many fruit-eating birds — hombills and 
parrots with large beaks and bright 
plumage. 
Of other inhabitants there are ele- 
phants, leopards, bushbuck, bushpig and 
the miniature dik dik antelopes, but all 
these are found rather on the outskirts 
than in the heart of the forest. 
N OW that the scene has been de- 
scribed I will try to take my reader 
for a hunt after that most wary of 
antelopes, the bongo. The natives have 
made a long, narrow clearing stretching 
a mile, or more, into the forest and then 
left it — a mass of felled trees — for the 
vegetation to dry up. Next year they 
will return and, with characteristic pro- 
digality, burn the great logs and dried 
vegetation. Meanwhile the place is de- 
serted and will form a good starting 
point. We follow the path the natives 
have made and pitch our camp at the 
top end of the clearing; on three sides 
is the forest, on the fourth the narrow 
clearing connecting us with civilization. 
Near our camp a small stream de- 
bouches and after fixing up camp we 
follow it into the forest. On each side 
of the stream is a narrow belt thickly 
grown with leafy plants about a foot 
high; one is a nettle and another closely 
resembles it but is stingless. Both these 
are eaten by the bongo. After proceed- 
ing a few hundred yards the banks of 
the stream become choked with under- 
growth so, deferring further exploration 
until the following day, we cross the 
stream and return by the other bank. 
Before going very far we see a num- 
ber of hoofmarks, about the size and 
shape of domestic cattle tracks, in the 
soft mud, alongside the stream. There 
is one thing that distinguishes them from 
almost anything but eland spoor and 
that is that the forepart is much deeper 
impressed than the hind; the animal 
walks forward on its toes. The maker 
of the tracks is the bongo and it has 
been on several occasions at night to 
drink at the stream and eat the nettle- 
like plants. Close to where the tracks 
plunge into the dense forest stands an- 
other kind of nettle — a giant nettle ten 
feet in height with a sting which is 
said to make even an elephant sorry. 
N OW a few hints as to hunting the 
bongo. It grazes and drinks at 
night, the males often keeping sepa- 
rate from the females. In the day they 
join up and lie down to rest in small 
family parties. With its great ears, the 
size of saucers, it can hear you blunder- 
ing and cracking your way through the 
forest from afar whilst, if the breeze is 
unfavorable to you, it will scent you from 
still farther. Once disturbed it will elear 
out of the neighborhood, so, if you find 
a fresh track, it behooves you to follow 
it with infinite precaution, however slow 
your progress. If you take all day to 
cover a few hundred yards and do not 
disturb the animal it will remain for 
another day. Never shoot at anything 
else until you have given up trying for 
bongo and carry your rifle yourself. 
Take only one tracker and walk in front 
of him; if you are unable to work eut 
the track let him put you right and then 
place yourself in front again. 
Some of these hints may seem super- 
fluous but I once read an account by a 
well-known sportsman of the hard luck 
he experienced in not getting a bongo. 
By his own account he used to fire at 
everything he saw and complains on one 
occasion that when he wanted his rifle 
to shoot at a Colobus his gunbearer had 
let three other men get between him and 
his master. This party of at least five 
must have made some noise pushing 
through the forest and, unless all the 
natives were of different tribes, ignor- 
ant of each other’s languages, there must 
have been some chatter too. 
So, rather than run the ris*. dis- 
turbing the animal, we return to camp. 
Long before nightfall the air has be- 
come chilly, for although near the equa- 
tor we are at an altitude of 7000 ft., and 
we are glad to make a big fire from the 
juniper logs lying around. To warm the 
tent a hole is dug in the floor and filled 
with glowing embers. At dusk a cease- 
less trilling commences from the forest. 
This is caused by Hyraxes or tree coneys. 
If we are far enough west, we may hear 
the cry of the chimpanzee, Oh! Oh! Oh! 
during the night. 
In the morning we revisit the stream 
and find that the bongo has been there 
during the night to drink. We now have 
the whole day before us in which to traek 
him to the spot chosen for his midday 
rest. We follow the spoor into the dense 
forest, wriggling and crawling through 
the undergrowth and festoons of creep- 
ers and clambering over the fallea 1mm. 
