V 
NDOROBO ELEPHANT-HUNTING 
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no botanist, I do not know what it really is ; but I call it 
vegetable bayonets. It is just like a bunch of green bayonets 
springing out of the ground, with points as sharp as real ones 
and capable of giving most painful wounds to any one who 
unwarily runs against one slanting towards him. The bush is 
full of this plant, and the elephants chew it and reject the fibre ; 
consequently the ground in their haunts is often strewn with it, 
more or less dry according to the time that has elapsed since 
its juice was partaken of. When it is green and moist, and 
smells quite sweet, it is freshly chewed ; after a little exposure 
it gets sour. The fibre of this plant is very strong, and makes 
excellent cord or rope. I have often thought that it might be 
turned to profitable account in places where it grows in great 
profusion near enough to the coast, as, for instance, on the 
Sabaki River. 
On reaching the edge of the broad, nearly level valley, we 
ascended a little prominence to get a view over it. A good 
deal of this scrub is not very high, so that if one can get on to 
a rise, or even sometimes into a tall tree (though such are not 
many in this kind of cover), and look down upon the jungle, it 
is often possible to see the tops of elephants’ heads and backs, 
which the owners make more conspicuous by throwing dust 
from the red ground over them. Sometimes, even though the 
animals themselves may be invisible, a little cloud of red dust 
may every now and then be seen, like a puff of smoke, issuing 
from the bush. In the present instance we were inspired with 
hope by making out the raddled heads and slowly flapping 
enormous ears of two big bulls in the jungle across by the valley. 
Worming our way down through the dense thicket, we crossed 
the little stream and followed up a little dry gully on the other 
side, near which, farther up, one of the elephants (they were 
some distance apart) was standing. I got up to him beautifully, 
without his knowing of my approach, as he stood fanning 
himself with his windmill sails, as is their wont when resting. 
I got a nice shot at his side at close quarters; but, owing to 
