ON SAFARI. RHINO AND GIRAFFE 
93 
the ground with horn and feet, the great bull rhino, still head 
toward us, dropped just thirteen paces from where we stood. 
This was a wicked charge, for the rhino meant mischief 
and came on with the utmost determination. It is not safe 
to generalize from a few instances. Judging from what I 
have since seen, I am inclined to believe that both lion and 
buffalo are more dangerous game than rhino; yet the first 
two rhinos I met both charged, whereas we killed our first 
four lions and first four buffaloes without any of them 
charging, though two of each were stopped as they were 
on the point of charging. Moreover, our experience with 
this bull rhino illustrates what I have already said as to one 
animal being more dangerous under certain conditions, and 
another more dangerous under different conditions. If it 
had been a lion instead of a rhino, my first bullet would, 
I believe, have knocked all the charge out of it; but the 
vitality of the huge pachyderm was so great, its mere bulk 
counted for so much, that even such a hard-hitting rifle as 
my double Holland—than which I do not believe there 
exists a better weapon for heavy game—could not stop 
it outright, although either of the wounds inflicted would 
have been fatal in a few seconds. 
Leaving a couple of men with the dead rhino, to protect 
it from the Wakamba by day and the lions by night, we rode 
straight to camp, which we reached at sunset. It was 
necessary to get to work on the two dead beasts as soon 
as possible in order to be sure of preserving their skins. 
Heller was the man to be counted on for this task. He it 
was who handled all the skins, who, in other words, was 
making the expedition of permanent value so far as big 
game was concerned; and no work at any hour of the day 
