CHAPTER IX

HINTS ON EAST AFRICAN STALKING, DRIVING, ETC.

BY F. J. JACKSON

In East Africa, up to the present, all shooting has been done entirely on foot, as horses have not yet been introduced into the country, with the exception of two or three which have been sent up to Uganda. It is to be hoped that when horses are more generally employed (and there is no reason at present known why they should not be, provided the belts of ‘fly’ country are avoided), they will not be used in the pursuit of the herds of game, as they have been and still are in South Africa and the Somali country. There can be little doubt that it is owing to this almost universal custom in South Africa of riding down game that it has been exterminated or driven away from so many parts of the country; and it is not improbable that in the Somali country a similar result will follow from the same cause. When pursued on horseback, game is for the most part on the move when shot at, often at full gallop, and at much longer ranges than when stalked, and therefore many more beasts are wounded and lost when horses are used than when fairly outwitted by the stalker and shot at when standing still.

It is supposed by a good many people that the tsétsé fly only exists where game beasts, especially buffaloes, are most plentiful, and that the fly disappears as the game is killed off or driven away. This may be so in South Africa, but it is certainly not the case in East Africa, as the belts of fly country in East Africa are almost devoid of game, with the exception of the river Tana. As, however, the open, undulating, grassy plains of the Masai country, and other places of a like nature, are the headquarters of by far the greatest quantity and variety of game, and are entirely free from the tsétsé fly, and as they are also well adapted to hunting on horseback, the game would very soon be exterminated if pursuit on horseback were permitted, and I trust that when the game laws which will doubtless be drawn up for this, probably the finest game country in the world, are drafted, a clause will be introduced which will make the pursuit of game in this manner altogether illegal.

My first trip to East Africa was undertaken in the years 1884 to 1887, when that country was perhaps at its best with regard to the quantity of game. Within the last few years, however, since the country has been opened up, and the terrifying accounts of the dangers of entering the Masai country have proved to be absurdly exaggerated, various sporting expeditions have been undertaken, and large bags have been made. Some of the game is certainly reduced in quantity, especially rhinoceroses, owing to the ease with which these beasts can be stalked.

Buffaloes, too, have been almost destroyed by a kind of anthrax, the same disease which carried off nearly all the native cattle in 1891. This disease, I am told, was fatal to other species of game, including giraffe, eland, and lesser kudu, and even elephants; but as my informants could not speak from personal knowledge, but only from native reports, I am unable to vouch for their accuracy. However, game is still to be found in enormous quantities--indeed few countries, if any, can offer such a grand or varied field for sport. Within the limits of British East Africa there are forty-seven species, including no fewer than thirty-three species of antelopes and gazelles, which come under the head of big game. In addition to big game there are a great number and variety of game-birds, including ten species of francolin, four species of guinea-fowl, four of florican, five of sand-grouse, and two of quail, as well as enormous hosts of duck and geese of various kinds on the lakes and large lagoons, together with two species of snipe. All these add very considerably to the charm of a shooting trip, and afford a pleasant change from the rifle to the shot-gun, besides agreeably altering the monotonous menu of antelope venison or tough rhinoceros or buffalo steak.

As then, all the big game in British East Africa should be killed by honest stalking, without the aid of horses, and as the first principles of stalking have been dealt with elsewhere in these volumes, it only remains for me to call attention to a few points peculiar to stalking in East Africa.

To deal first with the wind, which here, as elsewhere, is the first matter for a stalker to consider, it may be said that in the plains and fairly open country the wind is generally steady in one quarter or another between the hours of eight or nine A.M. and sundown, except when the monsoons are beginning to change, and then it is constantly chopping and veering round from point to point throughout the day. In the early morning, between daylight and about eight o’clock, it is also steady and constant from one quarter, but between eight and nine it often chops about before settling into the quarter from which it will continue to blow for the rest of the day. That is to say, when the sportsman leaves camp at daylight the wind may be blowing from the south-east and will continue so up to any time between seven and nine o’clock, when, after chopping about for a short time, it will settle into another quarter, say north-east, for the rest of the day. In forest, thick bush, and long grass, it is often apt, at all times of the day, to be very changeable and uncertain, and may chop round in eddies when least expected, and this is what often makes shooting in these places so disappointing. It is therefore necessary to constantly test the wind. The most convenient and effectual way of doing this is to pick up and let fall from the hand a little sand, dust, or pulverised leaves. On a very still calm day, when there is not enough wind to affect dust or dry leaves, a puff of smoke from a pipe or from a match, will serve the same purpose if struck and blown out immediately. The smell of the tobacco smoke is in no way likely to frighten game, as, if a beast is able to detect it, it is equally certain that he will be able to wind the stalker. Personally, I use a pipe as a wind-finder more than anything else, and I have had a lighted pipe in my mouth at the time of firing at more than half of the game I have killed.

Before commencing a stalk up to dangerous game, the stalker should _always_ put two or three cartridges for his big rifles into his pocket in order to have them handy and to render him perfectly independent of his gun-bearers. Even the best gun-bearers might fail him one day when in a critical position, and the want of a cartridge might be the cause of a very serious accident.

As elsewhere, so in Africa, one of the great secrets of success in big game shooting is to be up early and on the feeding grounds at daylight, when everything is in favour of the stalker. In the early morning most game will be found feeding, and will be more easily seen when so occupied than later on in the day when lying down in the shade of a tree or bush, with only one of the herd standing up. This beast, if it is the sentinel of a herd, will in all probability be a female, or a male with an inferior head, as the old bulls and bucks rarely act sentry; or it may be a solitary individual not worth stalking. The stalker, being possibly a long way off at the time of sighting it, and unable to see whether there is a herd lying concealed near it in the grass or not, may miss a good chance at a beast with a first-rate head through a pardonable dislike to going a long way out of his track on an off-chance. But when feeding the stalker has a good chance of examining with his binoculars each individual beast in the herd, he can compare one with another, and mark those with the best heads.

Then, again, in the early-morning the air is fresh and the ground cool, and a long stalk is not nearly so fatiguing then as later on; whilst in the cool hours of the early morning it is much easier to judge distances, as the air is clear and there is no haze. This haze, which only appears after the sun is well up, is caused by the moisture of the earth being evaporated by the sun. It is most noticeable after a heavy dew or a shower of rain, and is not only very apt to deceive even the most experienced in regard to distances, but as it makes everything appear to be in a perpetual quiver, it renders shooting very difficult. When taking a sight under such conditions the beast aimed at will often appear very indistinct, and will seem to move about in front of the muzzle of the rifle.

There is still another argument in favour of early morning stalks, and that is, that as all game beasts are thoroughly awake, and on the alert, even though engrossed in feeding, the stalker knows that he must exercise all his wits to the very utmost to keep out of sight, not only of the beast or beasts he may be stalking, but of other game which may be either to the right or left of him. This knowledge saves a man from carelessness, and makes him do his very utmost in that keen rivalry between animal instincts and human skill, in which lies the whole charm of big game shooting. But although the early morning has its advantages, a good many of which are of the nature of personal convenience and comfort to the stalker, and has also its many charms, which are not to be experienced later on in the day, it certainly has a fair amount of disadvantages. To begin with, as a rule, game is not so easy to approach when feeding as when standing about or lying down. When feeding beasts are constantly moving, and although they may be in a capital position when the stalker first tries to circumvent them, they very often move into an unapproachable one by the time he gets up to within range of where they had been; and of course, as before suggested, all beasts are very wide awake in the early hours of the morning, whilst, instead of being protected by only one sentinel as at other times, the whole herd is more or less on the _qui vive_, and the stalker may be detected at any moment by any beast which may happen to raise its head, or which may wander in his direction after some dainty morsel of grass and keep him waiting-in an awkward position.

The beast with the best head is not unfrequently in an awkward position for a shot, or out of range, and the stalker, being unable to improve his position or get nearer for fear of being seen by some of the other beasts, has either to risk a long shot at the best head or content himself with an easier and more certain shot at an inferior one. In this case, it is far better to give up the stalk for the time, and try your luck another day.

As an example of what can be done by a little patience and perseverance, I was successful in bagging the finest specimen of a bull eland ever shot by a European in East Africa, after a very long and tedious stalk on five consecutive days. This grand beast was accompanied by three cows, and each day they were found in the same locality, never more than a mile from the place at which I left them the previous day. This was a narrow strip of open plain, some two miles long by about a mile in width, which opened out at each end into a large open plain. The narrow strip was bordered on each side by thick bush and clumps of forest trees, and this appeared to be used by the enormous herds of game as a passage from one plain to the other. As I always found these four elands standing out well towards the middle of the strip, where there were only a few isolated mimosa-trees dotted about, the stalking was very tedious work, and as there was no covert but grass twelve to eighteen inches high, it was necessary to make a long crawl from the very outskirts of the bush. On each of the first three days I almost succeeded in getting within range, when the elands were alarmed by a shot fired in the distance and moved off, afterwards standing in such an exposed position that a stalk was quite impossible. On the fourth morning I was stalking them across the wind, which was blowing from my left, and was again nicely reducing the distance between myself and the bull, who was standing by himself under the shade of a thorn-tree, whilst the cows were quietly feeding some twenty yards beyond him.

As I lay under the shade of a small bush, which was within about 300 yards of the elands, taking a short rest, I noticed all four beasts suddenly raise their heads and stare hard up wind, evidently on the alert. At first I could not see anything to alarm them, and felt quite sure that they had not got a taint of my wind. On getting into a sitting position behind the bush, I saw a dark object in the grass dead to windward of the elands, and about the same distance from them as I was. My first idea was that it was a man, and I concluded that the fellow must be an idiot to attempt to stalk down wind, when I suddenly got a better view, and with the aid of my binoculars made out a lion and lioness, and saw that they were actually on the same business as myself. Wishing to see the result, I sat still and watched them, and could just manage to follow their movements, though I could only distinguish a small piece of the dark mane of the lion above the grass as he crawled slowly along. When the lions came to a tuft of rather longer grass they both raised their heads for a second, but the elands apparently took no notice of them, as they still stood perfectly motionless. As the lions crept on very slowly they came to another tuft of slightly taller grass, and the lion again raised his head, but this time he was seen by the elands, which all turned round and trotted off straight down wind. The lions then stood up, and after watching the elands a short time lay down in the grass; but before I could crawl up to them and get a shot, they went off for the bush on the other side of the plain. The elands were then thoroughly on the alert and in a bad position for a further stalk, and although I believe I could have got up to within a couple of hundred yards of them, rather than risk a long shot, and perhaps only frighten them away from the locality altogether, I left them in peace for the fourth time. Returning on the fifth morning very early, while skirting along outside the edge of the bush, keeping a sharp look-out, I found them in a grand position for a stalk, as they were not more than 400 yards from the edge of the bush on my side of the plain. The bull was lying down, one cow stood close by him, evidently on the look-out, whilst the other two were quietly feeding. Entering the bush, I skirted along inside the edge until I was just opposite to the elands. I then saw that between them and the bush in which I stood, with the wind blowing straight from them to me, there was a largish piece of bush some twenty yards long, though rather narrow and very thin, and not more than eighty yards from where the bull was lying. Between this patch and myself there was little or no covert of any kind, excepting grass which was about a foot high and very scanty, and one small skeleton bush within about twenty yards of the larger patch. I managed, however, by crawling flat on my stomach, followed by my pet gun-bearer, to get up to this scanty covert, and could just see through the larger patch that the bull was still lying down. At this moment, and before I could get any nearer, to my disgust I heard a shot fired in the distance. The bull stood up, and as he stared in the direction from which the shot had come I heard another report; but, as great good luck would have it, instead of bolting all four elands began to walk quietly towards where I lay. Exchanging my .500 Express for the 8-bore, as I wished to make certain of getting the bull, I waited, and thought they never would appear round the corner of the bush in front of me, as they kept stopping to look round every few paces.

In a short time a cow appeared round the corner within thirty yards of where I lay. I could still see the bull lagging behind, and was terribly afraid that this cow would detect me before he appeared; but she took no notice of me and walked straight on. Soon after this another cow appeared, and I could see the bull standing just on the other side of the bush, but would not risk a shot at him through it. At last his grand head appeared, but nothing more, and he again stopped. I shall never forget my feeling of intense excitement during those few seconds. I was in a most awkward position, lying flat on my face, and literally aching with suspense and suppressed excitement, and yet I dare not move to get into a better position for a shot, for fear of being seen by either of the two cows. At last the bull took a few steps forward, and I wriggled myself into a sitting position, gave him both barrels, one after the other, and after running about sixty yards he fell over dead. Never shall I forget my joy when I saw him drop. He was a grand beast with horns 31⅝ and 31 ins. respectively in length, and 25 ins. from tip to tip. His heart was encased in a solid piece of fat, which, after the heart had been cut out of it, and after it had been exposed to the sun for four hours, was found to weigh 18 lbs.

[Illustration: ‘At last the bull took a few steps forward’]

On the fourth day after the lions’ visit I went up to where they had stood, and followed the well-marked track which they had made as they crept along, for a considerable distance. The track clearly showed what their intentions were. They had evidently seen the elands from the other side of the plain, and had attempted to cut them off by stalking across the wind as I was doing. Had the elands continued their course up wind and not stopped where they did they would have passed pretty close to where the lions lay in a thick patch of grass. On seeing that the elands had stopped, the lions had crept diagonally across and down the wind, until the elands detected them.

But to go back to the best time of day for shooting. Of course shooting in the heat of the day has its advantages and disadvantages, and some men advocate it in preference to the early morning. After feeding, which is always in the early morning, and again in the evening, as well as throughout the night (though some species of game, notably zebra and several antelopes, continue to feed at all hours of the day and night), game take up their quarters for the day either in the shade of a tree or bush or quite out in the open. When once they have found a place to suit them, they will lie down, or stand about ruminating, and enjoying their siesta, and are not likely to wander about and get into awkward positions.

Game, too, is less watchful in the hot hours, and even the sentinel has every appearance of being drowsy and off guard, as it stands at ease on three legs (nearly always with its back to the wind), with ears drooping or lying back, and a look of general contentment and repose about it, as if conscious that its feline enemies are not likely to disturb it, and that it has little else to fear. Even should the herd be lying rather scattered about, with their heads facing in all directions, they do not appear to be so keen at detecting the approach of the stalker as in the morning. Possibly they are either dozing or their senses are dulled from general lassitude, and they rely mostly on the sentinel; or it may be that the haze, which is thicker close to the ground, affects their vision in the same way as it does that of the stalker. Whether their senses are dulled from the effects of the heat, or whether they are less watchful because their natural enemies are unlikely to be abroad at that time, is difficult to conjecture. At all events, if several stalks were made under the same conditions with regard to the place, covert, and wind, some of them up to a herd feeding in the early morning, and the others when they were lying down and standing about in the heat of the day, I think that the stalker would find that he would have to exercise his wits against the game’s instinct far less, and would also find the beasts much easier to circumvent during the heat of the day than in the cool of the morning. In the matter of physical exertion, however, the later stalks are much the most trying and fatiguing. Anyone who has done many long and tedious stalks will, I think, admit that being compelled to crawl two or three hundred yards, or more, flat on his stomach in the bare open plains (where game is generally most plentiful) is terribly trying work during the heat of the day. What with the sun pouring down on the back and nape of the neck, and the scorching heat of the ground striking upwards into the face, together with the burnt grass dust, &c., which get into the mouth and nostrils, and nearly choke him in his desperate efforts to prevent coughing or sneezing, such a stalk requires not only great physical endurance, but the most stoical patience on the part of the stalker. Moreover, stalks under such trying circumstances (and they are by no means uncommon), even though they may be successful, are apt to end in a splitting headache, which may develop into an attack of fever, and knock the sportsman out of time for several days.

And there is yet another argument in favour of early stalks, altogether apart from their advantages from a stalker’s point of view, and this is that for a few hours after dawn Nature is at her very best. The air is deliciously cool, and as it is clear, excepting at certain seasons and at high altitudes, everything stands out sharp and well defined, and all the surrounding scenery is seen to the best advantage. If the sportsman is, as he ought to be, anything of a naturalist, he will see all nature under the most interesting aspects. Besides the various species of big game to be met with, he will observe many of the nocturnal animals still abroad after their night’s peregrinations, and these he will see at no other time. He will see the ubiquitous hyæna, as he slinks along across the plain to his hiding-place, and will be able to form no other opinion of him than that he is a skulking, contemptible-looking brute, and will possibly feel a desire to have a shot at him, but will refrain from doing so, knowing that he is not worth a bullet, that the shot may disturb better game, and that, after all, the beast does little harm, but, as a scavenger, a vast deal of good. The cunning-looking little jackal, which by its howling during the night has disturbed the sportsman’s well-earned rest, and called forth language more forcible than polite, may be seen at dawn trotting along to his earth, looking as unconcerned and innocent as possible, while various species of the larger ichneumons and that curious unwieldy creature, the ratel, will also be abroad. The ratel, by the way, with the porcupine (the latter, though plentiful, rarely seen) is responsible for the numerous shallow burrowings that may be observed so frequently, often in the middle of a well-beaten footpath which is as hard as a brickbat. These burrowings are made by the ratel and porcupine when searching for food. Perhaps, too, in the early morning the stalker will see a curious little ground squirrel, which is rarely found far from its retreat, and which on being disturbed scuttles away, and, if not too frightened, on arriving at its burrow, sits bolt upright to scrutinise the intruder like a marmot, before finally disappearing with a flick of its tail. He may see, too, that quaint and most interesting little beast, the brown mongoose, which is so common in East Africa, and goes about in large family parties. This jolly little creature, which is the personification of curiosity, makes a most amusing and intelligent pet. As they trot along, sticking their noses into or under everything that is at all likely to shelter or hide anything that is eatable, these mongooses keep up a constant low squeaking noise. I have often watched them, and have had them come close up to me, sitting up on their hind legs, trying to make out what I was. It is one of the funniest sights to see them scampering along in a desperate hurry on being frightened, and diving one after the other into the chimney-like holes of an ant-heap, in which they nearly always live. There are scores of other interesting little animals, too numerous to mention, all of which add consider ably to the pleasures of a day’s shooting to anyone who is at all keen to observe the habits of little-known creatures.

Bird life is particularly in evidence in the early morning, and everything that has a voice seems to make use of it to the utmost, though with the exception of the yellow-vented bul-bul and one or two other small birds, few can lay claim to anything but a call note, which in most instances is neither melodious nor agreeable to the ears of ordinary people, though to a lover of nature there is something very pleasant even about these. The first bird to make itself heard is the bush cuckoo (_Centropus monachus_), whose curious guttural rolling note may often be heard on a moonlight night, and nearly always for a few minutes about 4 A.M., after which it becomes quiet again till dawn. The next to wake up is the small kingfisher (_Halcyon chelicutensis_), whose pleasant though plaintive voice is also the last to be heard in the evening, before the nightjar starts his monotonous sewing-machine-like chatter. No sooner is it daylight than all the game-birds in the vicinity begin to call and answer each other. There is the grating cackle of the guinea-fowl (_Numida coronata_) which is by far the most plentiful of the four species, excepting _N. ptilorhyncha_, which, however, is not found in any great numbers south of Lake Baringo, where it is very plentiful. There is the harsh and defiant scream of the bush francolin (_F. Grantii_); the less harsh and more pleasing call of the plain francolin (_F. coquei_); the strident guttural voice of the florican (_Otis canicollis_); the curious indescribable call of the yellow-throated spur fowl (_Pternestes infuscatus_); and later on, between eight and nine o’clock, the shrill scream of the small sand-grouse (_Pterocles decoratus_) and the guttural chuckle of the larger kind (_P. gutteralis_) as they fly high overhead on their way to their favourite drinking-place. Most of the above-mentioned game-birds, besides being heard, will probably be seen during a morning’s tramp, together with innumerable small birds, which keep up a perpetual chatter. In fact, everything appears to be full of life and energy. Later on, in the middle of the day, everything is quiet and skulking in the shade; all nature seems dead or asleep, with the exception of the butterflies which flit about, and the myriads of other insects which keep up an incessant hum and ‘sissing’ noise.

Having thus fairly considered all the pros and cons, I am decidedly of opinion that the stalker will get more pleasure and more game by stalking between daylight and 10 or 11 A.M., and again between 3.30 P.M. and sundown, than at any other time.

There are some places where game, although plentiful, is so wild, and the ground so absolutely devoid of any covert, that stalking is an impossibility. Under such circumstances, and more particularly if the game sought after is scarce, or carries a particularly fine head, there are ways of circumventing it which are admissible, and which cannot in any way be considered unsportsmanlike. These are driving, the Bushman’s stratagem of the stalking ostrich, and sitting up at night near a drinking-place. The two former I have myself tried successfully.

[Illustration: THE BUSHMAN’S STRATAGEM]

It will be found that most antelopes are very partial to certain localities, where they are seen day after day in or quite near to the same place. They are also sure to have certain lines of retreat in case of danger; a habit very much in the sportsman’s favour should he decide on a drive. To find this line of retreat is very necessary, and it can only be done by making one or two test drives without either the sportsman or ‘stops’ in position. Of course all game should be driven down or across the wind. The beaters, from ten to fifteen in number, should be formed into a long line, and should then slowly advance on the game. On no account should the beaters proceed too quickly, lest the game should become thoroughly scared, and (if in a herd) split up and driven in different directions. On the second day the same tactics may be tried again, and it will be found in all probability that the game will make off by exactly the same line of retreat. The third day the sportsman and the ‘stops’ can take up their positions in the line which the game seems likely to take, behind the most convenient shelter available, which may be artificial if there should be no natural covert, such as a bush, ant-heap, or tuft of grass large enough to conceal them. The ‘stops,’ who are generally gun-bearers, these being as a rule more intelligent than the ordinary porters, should be directed to take up their positions on either side of the sportsman, each at a distance of about 200 yards from him. They should be told to keep well out of sight, and not to show themselves unless they see that the game is coming too much in their direction, and is likely to pass out of range of the sportsman. In this case they must show themselves for about a second, as that will be quite enough to turn the game away from them. Most antelopes, if approached quietly, start off at a trot when they are first moved, sometimes even at a gallop, then settle down into a walk, and finally stop altogether. This they always do after going a short distance, to have a look round at the cause of their alarm. As the beaters draw up, the game will continue to advance in this manner, and may pull up just out of range of the sportsman to have another look round. The beaters should, therefore, be told beforehand to stop when they see that the game is approaching within range of the ambushes. Should they advance instead of stopping at this juncture, the game will start off again at a trot, possibly at a gallop, and may rush past the sportsman all huddled together, the best head in the middle of the herd, and well protected from a shot by several intervening females; whereas, if the beaters stop when they see the game getting near the ambushes, the game, after having a good look at the beaters, will continue to advance at a walk, and may stop altogether within range, and give a capital chance for a successful shot. To a man who is at all excitable this form of sport is perhaps more trying to the nerves than stalking. To see a fine bull eland or buck _G. Grantii_ with a grand head slowly drawing nearer and nearer, at one time appearing likely to pass out of range, at another time coming straight for the ambush behind which the sportsman is concealed, is very exciting. There is the uncertainty as to whether the beast or beasts will pass him at a gallop, trot, or walk; as to whether they will stop altogether when within range: there is the absolute necessity of keeping still, however uncomfortable the position the sportsman may be in, combined with his eagerness to secure a grand trophy; and all these things tend to intensify the excitement. In stalking it is different, as the exertion of crawling and making himself as invisible as possible, a tax both on body and mind, helps to make the stalker forget his ‘jumpiness.’

The second device for securing game otherwise unapproachable is that of the stalking ostrich, which can be made out of any kind of long thin pliable sticks formed into the shape and size of an ostrich’s body, and covered with the common trade cloth (Americani), dyed the colour of a hen bird with mud from the nearest stream or puddle. The whole thing when complete will much resemble the shell of a large tortoise. The neck and head should be separate from the body, as, when in use, the actions of an ostrich while feeding should be imitated as nearly as possible. I only used this device twice, but each time with the greatest success, and on both occasions in the Rombo plains on the eastern side of Kilimanjaro, shortly after the grass had been burnt, and when there was absolutely no covert of any kind. The _G. Grantii_ carry particularly fine heads on these plains, and would not allow me to approach nearer than 350 to 400 yards.

Although the construction of this ostrich excited much amusement amongst the men, and although I noticed a good deal of grinning and chuckling amongst them as I went out, they were very greatly astonished at the result. From the camp I could see two _G. Grantii_ standing out in the open about a mile off. Within half a mile of them and on my left there was a slight rise in the ground, which I took advantage of, and thus got within about 600 yards of them before donning the ostrich. Directly I appeared over the top of the rise the gazelles saw me, but I soon allayed their suspicions by pretending to feed and pick about. I then went on, stopping every now and again ‘to feed,’ and without the least trouble walked up to within 90 yards of them, and got both with a right and left shot To show how successful the imitation was, I passed two wart-hogs within 60 yards on my right and a couple of greater bustards (_Otis kori_) within 40 yards on my left, and none of them showed the slightest signs of fear until after I had gone by them, when the wind exposed the deception.

The next day I approached a large herd of some thirty-five _G. Grantii_, got within 40 yards, and killed the best buck, a magnificent beast, in spite of three or four does which stood within 25 yards of me. After the shot, instead of revealing myself, I picked up the neck of the ostrich, which I had been obliged to drop in order to take the shot, and rushed after the retreating herd. When they stopped after going about 600 yards, the feigned alarm of the ostrich was apparently so real that they allowed me to run straight up to within 60 yards of them. However, I was so pumped from the run, and tired by the first long walk up to the herd in a cramped and stooping position, trying to assimilate my height to that of an ostrich’s body, that I was very unsteady, and a shot at the next best buck missed him clean, and away went the herd.

I have only twice tried sitting over a water-hole or other drinking place, a method perhaps less sporting than any other, although a very favourite way of killing game in South Africa in former days; and my attempts at this form of sport met with such poor success that I know little or nothing about it. There can be no doubt but that the Kilimanjaro district and suchlike places are not favourable to this form of shooting, as there is so much water about, that game cannot be relied upon to drink at the same place two nights running. To be successful, water should be scarce, and there should certainly not be a running stream, with its numerous and well-used drinking-places, within at least eight or ten miles of the place to be watched. Although my two attempts were failures, this plan would no doubt be well worth trying, more especially when there were lions about. Other game, such as rhinoceroses, buffaloes, and various antelopes, if not to be found on their feeding grounds in the open at daylight, can be tracked into the bush, &c. The spoor of a lion, however, excepting in soft ground, is so difficult to see that it is almost useless to attempt to follow it.

If a well-used water-hole could be found where game was in sufficient quantities to attract lions, it would be advisable to watch it on the chance of getting a shot at a lion--a chance which may not be offered for months by daylight, though lions may be heard roaring near the camp night after night.

And now to deal with the last feature of a stalk--the shot. It may be taken as a general rule that all big game should be shot behind the shoulder.

Roughly speaking, a bullet placed in the lateral centre of the body, or a trifle below the centre, and a few inches behind the shoulder in a perpendicular line with the back of the foreleg, will kill anything, provided, of course, the bullet has sufficient penetration; as, even if the heart is not touched, the lungs, which are a much larger mark, and almost equally vital, certainly will be. The chest shot when the beast is facing the sportsman is equally good. With elephants, however, when at close quarters, which would be either in long grass or thick bush, the head shot is preferable, as a bullet in the brain will be instantly fatal, and the risk of a charge under conditions unfavourable to the stalker will be avoided. The danger of a charge in such circumstances, more especially on a calm day, is greatly increased by the dense cloud of smoke caused by the explosion of ten or twelve drachms of powder, which hangs in the air and prevents the stalker from seeing the result of his shot.

With all one’s care to avoid the infliction of needless pain, cases occur from time to time in every sportsman’s experience in which it seems almost impossible to despatch a mortally wounded beast with anything except a shot in the brain or in the vertebræ of the neck. The wounded animal appears in these cases quite impervious to all sense of pain, being apparently in a state of semi-consciousness after the first shot, the shock of each subsequent shot seeming to have no further effect upon its nervous system, yet in nineteen cases out of twenty a beast hit in the same spot and at the same angle would die almost immediately.

Several cases of the kind have come under my own observation. At one time I thought that this extraordinary vitality was confined to the antelopes, but I have seen the same peculiarity displayed twice by buffaloes, once by an elephant, once by a rhinoceros, and once by a zebra. I used to be of opinion that a beast so wounded was reduced to a state of semi-paralysis, and was incapable of moving from the spot on which it was standing when hit, but I have proved that this is not always the case.

When first struck in such cases, the beast almost invariably drops its head, and sometimes stands with open mouth in the same manner that a beast stands after it has been shot through the stomach.

From my own observations, the shots which have thrown a beast into this curious condition have invariably struck it low down, through the lower edge of one or both lungs. The shot, however, has not necessarily been fired when the beast has been standing in one particular position, as I have known these shots fired when the beast was broadside on, stern on, and facing me.

If there is any doubt as to whether the animal is hit through the stomach or low down in the lungs, the sportsman should take advantage of the beast as it stands with its head down, and either give it another shot immediately or carefully approach nearer to make quite certain of placing his bullet in the right spot. Should he then be quite satisfied that his second bullet has struck the right spot behind the shoulder, and should the beast still continue to stand in the same position, or move on only a short distance, he can be pretty sure that the case is one of those I allude to, and he had better either finish with a shot in the brain or the vertebræ of the neck, or leave it to die quietly, as it very soon will do. Any more shoulder shots would be simply thrown away. Of course a beast shot in the stomach should be killed with the shoulder shot at once, as it is always likely to pull itself together for a while and travel for miles.

[Illustration: A baby elephant]

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