412 
AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 
They were standing among bushes and patches of rank, 
unburned grass; it was just ten o’clock, and they were 
evidently preparing to lie down for the day. As they stood 
they kept twitching their big ears; both rhino and ele¬ 
phant are perpetually annoyed, as are most game, by biting 
flies, large and small. We got up very close, Kermit with 
his camera and I with the heavy rifle. Too little is known 
of these northern square-mouthed rhino for us to be sure 
that they are not lingering slowly toward extinction; and, 
lest this should be the case, we were not willing to kill any 
merely for trophies; while, on the other hand, we deemed it 
really important to get good groups for the National Mu¬ 
seum in Washington and the American Museum in New 
York, and a head for the National Collection of Heads and 
Horns which was started by Mr. Hornaday, the director of 
the Bronx Zoological Park. Moreover Kermit and Loring 
desired to get some photos of the animals while they were 
alive. 
Things did not go well this time, however. The rhinos 
saw us before either Kermit or Loring could get a good 
picture. As they wheeled I fired hastily into the chest of 
one, but not quite in the middle, and away they dashed— 
for they do not seem as truculent as the common rhino. 
We followed them. After an hour the trails separated; 
Cuninghame went on one, but failed to overtake the ani¬ 
mal, and we did not see him until we reached camp late 
that afternoon. 
Meanwhile our own gun-bearers followed the bloody 
spoor of the rhino I had hit, Kermit and I close behind, 
and Loring with us. The rhino had gone straight off at a 
gallop, and the trail offered little difficulty, so we walked 
