• » * 
fore feet until one, pretending to be overcome, 
ran away for a short distance, while the other 
chased him, and then both stopped and raised 
the long white hair on the rump patch—a strik¬ 
ing exhibition. I saw little kids go up to their 
mothers and nurse, sometimes standing up or 
again kneeling on the ground. The old does 
paid little attention to the young and as little to 
.their companions, though two or three times I 
saw and heard one of them utter a sound some¬ 
thing like the bleat of a sheep, but much deeper 
and stronger. 
At last, as I have said, the little company be¬ 
gan to drift toward my station on the top of 
the hill and at last came within easy rifle shot. 
Then one after another the old does deliber¬ 
ately lay down; the kids, weary of their play, at 
last also lay down, and then two fat old bucks 
followed lazily to where the others were, and 
walking a little higher up on the hill, one of 
them lay down, and just as the other was about 
to do so, I aimed at his side behind the elbow, 
and as the gun cracked all the antelope rushed 
away and out of my sight. In a moment or two 
McConnell came up with the horses and we rode 
over the hill and down on the other side. We 
had not gone far before I pointed out the ante¬ 
lope to McConnell. He had rushed seventy-five 
yards down the slope, and just as he was cross¬ 
ing the little wash in the valley had stumbled 
at its further side and fallen there. From him, 
too, we cut away head and shanks and tying him 
behind my saddle, set out for the camp. 
It was now well on to the middle of the after¬ 
noon and a leaden sky hung low over the prairie. 
For an hour or two I rode along without much 
considering the question, of course automatically 
keeping my horse in a direction which I sup¬ 
posed we ought to go, but as time passed and 
I could see nothing of landmark or sun to give 
me my direction, it suddenly occurred to me that 
I did not know where I was, nor whither I was 
going. Of course, I said nothing of this to Mc¬ 
Connell, but as I rode along I did a great amount 
of thinking. Search as I might, I could see 
nothing to give me any hint as to where I was. 
I had never been over the country before, and 
even if it had been familiar country there was 
nothing about it that was characteristic, noth¬ 
ing that the most acute prairie man could have 
called a landmark. 
I began to be quite anxious, not about any 
danger that I feared might come to us, though 
of course there was always the possibility that 
we might run into a camp or a little war party 
of Indians who might easily enough kill us and 
deftly remove our scalps, but because I did not 
wish to acknowledge that I was lost and did not 
wish to fail to reach camp that night. At that 
time I was so young and so inexperienced that 
I believed that it would be a serious reflection 
on my prairie craft to acknowledge that I did 
not know where I was, or that I could not find 
the camp. 
McConnell and I had little to say to each 
other. The day had been long, and before this 
we had gotten thoroughly talked out. He seemed 
to pay no attention to his surroundings, but to 
be consented to plod along behind or beside me. 
Either he knew precisely where he was and 
where he was going, or else he had not given 
the matter the slightest thought. 
As for me I was each moment becoming more 
and more unhappy. I knew perfectly well that 
I was absolutely lost; that I had no idea where 
the camp was nor the stream on which camp 
was to be made; in fact, I had lost all sense 
of direction. What I tried to do, and believed 
that I was doing, was to keep my horse’s head 
turned in the direction in which I had started. 
I knew perfectly well how futile an attempt to 
do this would be if the horse had any disposi¬ 
tion to swerve in one direction or another. 
By this time night was at hand, and it was 
obvious that before long we must stop and make 
a dry camp. It might even be necessary to wait 
till the stars or sun appeared so as to get the 
points of the compass again. With this in my 
mind I was congratulating myself that in dress¬ 
ing the antelope we had left its liver within the 
carcass. The day had been long, we had seen 
no water, and I, for one, was beginning to feel 
thirsty; I did not doubt that McConnell was so, 
too. All plainsmen know that nothing quenches 
thirst so satisfactorily as a slice of the raw 
liver of the prong-horned antelope. 
turning this over in my mind I noticed that 
we were climbing another one of the low hills 
which we had been climbing all day long, and 
as we topped it, to my utter astonishment, I saw 
down below me the winding valley of a stream, 
some white tents, a couple of camp-fires and 
some feeding horses and mules scattered out 
over the green bottom. Turning in the saddle 
I said unconcernedly to my companion, “There’s 
camp, McConnell.” 
He kicked the ribs of his horse and pushed 
up beside me as he replied, “Well, I’m mighty 
glad of it. I was getting mighty thirsty, and I 
haven’t known anything about where we were 
since you killed that antelope and we started.” 
I have always wondered whether I was really lost 
or not that day. Personally, I believe that I was, 
but I had the luck to hit the camp “plum center.” 
An Adventure With a Rhinoceros 
By JOHN LETHBRIDGE 
W ITH my friend P. I had been on a shoot¬ 
ing trip in British East Africa for sev¬ 
eral months, and toward the end of our 
trip we found ourselves on the German East 
African border, which necessitated our coming 
through the game reserve of British East Africa, 
as we wished to get to Nairobi. 
The game reserve is an enormous one and is 
simply alive with every species of game; in fact, 
so much so that the rhinos are a perfect nui¬ 
sance and even a serious menace, but woe be¬ 
tide the unfortunate sportsman who kills one of 
these brutes in the reserve, even in self-defence. 
The Government will quietly tell you that it was 
your duty to have got out of its way, and that 
you had no right to be in the reserve. A friend 
of mine, practically an invalid, was shooting last 
year in British East Africa. He was far too 
sick to think of going after elephant and such 
things and so instead of taking a sportsman’s 
license, which costs £50, took out a settler’s 
license which costs only £10. It does not allow 
the holder to kill elephant, rhino or hippopota¬ 
mus, but only all ordinary kinds of antelope. 
One day he was out shooting buck, more to 
pass the time than anything, but had the mis¬ 
fortune to run across a rhino which happened 
to be particularly vicious and which repeatedly 
charged, and he at last shot it. On arriving at 
Nairobi he told me what had happened and I 
advised him to keep quiet about it and trust to 
luck, but he certainly was of a more honorable 
turn of mind than I and reported it to the game 
ranger, telling him at the same time that what 
he had done was practically in self-defence. 
T he game ranger, who is one of the nicest men 
I have ever met, listened to his report and told 
him first of all that he was sorry that he had 
reported it, but to go straight away and take 
out a sportsman’s license, which he had to do, 
and there the matter ended, but that rhino cost 
him £50. The odds are that if he had ro A re¬ 
ported it the natives would hav< done so, and 
then it would have been so much the worse for 
all concerned. 
We had a large caravan and the rhinos were 
a perfect nuisance, charging us continually when, 
of course, the porters would throw down their 
loads and bolt. I had with me a little rough¬ 
haired fox terrier which I had brought out from 
England to look at. She was not worth her 
food, but she was game to death. She had had 
pups on the trip and I had killed all but two, 
which were being carried in a box by one of 
the boys. When this rhino charged, the boy 
threw down his box and ran with the rest. It 
is extraordinary but true that this little bitch 
tackled the rhino and it was certainly an absurd 
thing to witness. To see a great unwieldy ani¬ 
mal like a rhino worried by a dog of about fif¬ 
teen pounds weight was distinctly ludicrous. The 
rhino did not know what to do nor which way 
to turn, but eventually trotted away. You must 
realize that a rhino has very bad sight and trusts 
almost entirely to his sense of smell, which is 
very keen. The puppies were unhurt and the 
little bitch was satisfied, and I suppose quite 
congratulated herself on having saved the pups 
and put her adversary to flight. 
In three days our caravan was charged no less 
than seven times, and the last charge might really 
have turned out disastrously, but for the good 
fortune that my friend did not happen to be 
where he should have been at the moment. We 
had made a long march, as we were nearing 
home and had made our camp by a small river 
in a hollow. Having reached our camping 
ground fairly early we had both tents pitched. 
Usually when on the march we slept in one 
tent. It was a pitch dark night and rather windy 
and after dinner we both turned in early to 
dream of England and home where we shortly 
hoped to be. About twelve I was awakened by 
a most unearthly din and jumping quickly out 
of my tent found the boys running about shout¬ 
ing, the little bitch barking and everything in 
