274 
African Game Trails 
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 Museum 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, how¬ 
ever. The rhinos saw us before either Ker¬ 
mit 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 trucu¬ 
lent as the common rhino. We followed 
them. After an hour the trails separated; 
Cuninghame went on one, but failed to 
overtake the animal, and we did not see 
him until we reached camp late that after¬ 
noon. 
Meanwhile our own gunbearers followed 
the bloody spoor of the rhino I had hit, Ker¬ 
mit 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 fast. A couple of hours passed. 
The sun was now high and the heat intense 
as we walked over the burned ground. The 
scattered trees bore such scanty foliage as 
to cast hardly any shade. The rhino gal¬ 
loped strongly and without faltering; but 
there was a good deal of blood on the trail. 
At last, after we had gone seven or eight 
miles, Kiboko the skinner, who was acting 
as my gunbearer, pointed toward a small 
thorn-tree; and beside it I saw the rhino 
standing with drooping head. It had been 
fatally hit, and if undisturbed would prob¬ 
ably never have moved from where it was 
standing; and we finished it off forthwith. 
It was a cow, and before dying it ran round 
and round in a circle, in the manner of the 
common rhino. 
Loring stayed to superintend the skinning 
and bringing in of the head and feet, and 
slabs of hide. Meanwhile Kermit and I, 
with our gunbearers, went off with a “ shen- 
zi,” a wild native who had just come in 
with the news that he knew where another 
rhino was lying, a few miles away. While 
bound thither we passed numbers of oribi, 
and went close to a herd of waterbuck 
which stared at us with stupid tameness; a 
single hartebeest was with them. When 
we reached the spot there was the rhino, 
sure enough, under a little tree, sleeping 
on his belly, his legs doubled up, and his 
head flat on the ground. Unfortunately the 
grass.was long, so that it was almost impos¬ 
sible to photograph him. However, Ker¬ 
mit tried to get his picture from an ant-hill 
fifty yards distant, and then, Kermit with 
his camera and I with my rifle, we walked 
up to within about twenty yards. At this 
point we halted, and on the instant the 
rhino jumped to his feet with surprising 
agility and trotted a few yards out from 
under the tree. It was a huge bull, with a 
fair horn; much the biggest bull we had yet 
seen; and with head up and action high, 
the sun glinting on his slate hide and bring¬ 
ing out his enormous bulk, he was indeed 
a fine sight. I waited a moment for Ker¬ 
mit to snap him. Unfortunately the waving 
grass spoiled the picture. Then I fired 
right and left into his body, behind the 
shoulders, and down he went. In color he 
seemed of exactly the same shade as the 
common rhino, but he was taller and 
heavier, being six feet high. He carried a 
stout horn, a little over two feet long; the 
girth at the base was very great. 
Leaving the gunbearers (with all our 
water) to skin the mighty beast, Kermit and 
I started for camp; and as we were rather 
late Kermit struck out at a great pace in 
front, while I followed on the little ambling 
mule. On our way in we passed the ele¬ 
phants, still standing where we had left 
them in the morning, with the white cow 
herons flying and walking around and over 
them. Heller and Cuninghame at once 
went out to camp by the skin and take care 
of it, and to bring back the skeleton. We 
had been out about eleven hours without 
food; we were very dirty from the ashes on 
the burnt ground; we had triumphed; and 
we were thoroughly happy as we took our 
baths and ate our hearty dinner. 
It was amusing to look at our three 
naturalists and compare them with the con¬ 
ventional pictures of men of science and 
learning—especially men of science and 
learning in the wilderness—drawn by the 
novelists a century ago. Nowadays the 
field naturalist—who is usually at all points 
superior to the mere closet naturalist—fol¬ 
lows a profession as full of hazard and in¬ 
terest as that of the explorer or of the big- 
