240 
IN AFRICA 
The hartebeest, or kongoni, is hard to kill. The 
Dutch gave him the name for that reason. It often 
seems as if bullets have no effect on him. Tie will 
absorb lead without losing a trace of his good- 
humored look, and after he has been shot several 
times he will go bounding earnestly away, as if 
nothing was the matter. If he succeeds in join¬ 
ing a herd there is little way of distinguishing which 
one has been shot, unless he suddenly exhibits signs 
or falls over. Otherwise he is quite likely to gallop 
away, f ar beyond pursuit, and then slowly succumb 
to his wounds. 
Again I’ve seen them knocked over and lie as if 
dead, but before one could approach they would be 
up and off as good as ever. This is the great tragedy 
of the conscientious hunter’s life—the escape of a 
wounded animal beyond pursuit—and the thought 
of it is one that keeps him awake at night with a 
remorseful heart and saddened thoughts. When¬ 
ever I shall think of Africa in the future, I shall 
think of my old friend, the kongoni, dotting the 
landscape and sticking his inquiring ears over vari¬ 
ous spots on the horizon. In four and a half 
months I think I must have seen at least a hundred 
thousand kongoni. 
The giraffe is also a creature of most amusing 
actions. You are pretty certain to see a bunch of 
them as you come up the railway from the coast. 
They were the first wild animals I saw in British 
East Africa—a group of four or five quietly feed¬ 
ing within only a hundred yards of the thundering 
