CHAPTER V. 
TO SANGA-TANGA AND BACK. 
Y objects in visiting Mbata, the reader 
will have understood, were to shoot a 
specimen or specimens of the gorilla, 
and, if possible, to buy or catch a 
youngster. Even before landing, the pilot had 
assured me that a “ baby ” was on sale at the 
Comptoir, but on inquiry it proved to have died. 
I was by no means sanguine of success—when the 
fight is against Time, the Old Man usually wins 
the day. The short limits of my trip would not 
allow me to wander beyond the coast and the 
nearer riverine regions, where frequent villages 
and the constant firing of muskets have taught all 
wild animals that flight is their only defence ; thus, 
besides being rare, they must be shy and timid, 
wary and knowing, “ like an old hedgehog hunted 
for his grease.” The first glance at the bush sug¬ 
gested, “ Surely it is impossible to find big game in 
such a land of farms and plantations.” 
