minutes to raise my glasses for the periodicalexamination of the

country. The mental focussing back from the pale gray half light
of Hawthorne's New England to the actuality of wild Africa was a

most extraordinary experience.
Through the heat of the day the world lay absolutely silent. At

about half-past three, however, we heard rumblings and low
bellows from the trees a half mile away. I repocketed Hawthorne,

and aroused myself to continuous alertness.
The ensuing two hours passed more slowly than all the rest of the

day, for we were constantly on the lookout. The buffaloes delayed
most singularly, seeminglyreluctant to leave their deep cover.

The sun dropped behind the mountains, and their shadow commenced
to climb the opposite range. I glanced at my watch. We had not

more than a half hour of daylight left.
Fifteen minutes of this passed. It began to look as though our

long and monotonous wait had been quite in vain; when, right
below us, and perhaps five hundred yards away, four great black

bodies fed leisurely from the bushes. Three of them we could see
plainly. Two were bulls of fair size. The fourth, half concealed

in the brush, was by far the biggest of the lot.
In order to reach them we would have to slip down the face of the

hill on which we sat, cross the streamjungle at the bottom,
climb out the other side, and make our stalk to within range.

With a half hour more of daylight this would have been
comparatively easy, but in such circumstances it is difficult to

move at the same time rapidly and unseen. However, we decided to
make the attempt. To that end we disencumbered ourselves of all

our extras-lunch box, book, kodak, glasses, etc.-and wormed our
way as rapidly as possible toward the bottom of the hill. We

utilized the cover as much as we were able, but nevertheless
breathed a sigh of relief when we had dropped below the line of

the jungle. We wasted very little time crossing the latter, save
for precautions against noise. Even in my haste, however, I had

opportunity to notice its high and austerecharacter, with the
arching overhead vines, and the clear freedom from undergrowth in

its heart. Across this cleared space we ran at full speed,
crouching below the grasp of the vines, splashed across the brook

and dashed up the other bank. Only a faint glimmer of light
lingered in the jungle. At the upper edge we paused, collected

ourselves, and pushed cautiously" target="_blank" title="ad.小心地；谨慎地">cautiously through the thick border-screen
of bush.

The twilight was just fading into dusk. Of course we had taken
our bearings from the other hill; so now, after reassuring

ourselves of them, we began to wriggle our way at a great pace
through the high grass. Our calculations were quite accurate. We

stalked successfully, and at last, drenched in sweat, found
ourselves lying flat within ten yards of a small bush behind

which we could make out dimly the black mass of the largest beast
we had seen from across the way.

Although it was now practically dark, we had the game in our own
hands. From our low position the animal, once it fed forward from

behind the single small bush, would be plainlyoutlined against
the sky, and at ten yards I should be able to place my heavy

bullets properly, even in the dark. Therefore, quite easy in our
minds, we lay flat and rested. At the end of twenty seconds the

animal began to step forward. I levelled my double gun, ready to
press trigger the moment the shoulder appeared in the clear. Then

against the saffron sky emerged the ugly outline and two
upstanding horns of a rhinoceros!

"Faru!" I whispered disgustedly to Memba Sasa. With infinite
pains we backed out, then retreated to a safe distance. It was of

course now too late to hunt up the three genuine buffaloes of
this ill-assorted group.

In fact our main necessity was to get through the river jungle
before the afterglow had faded from the sky, leaving us in pitch

darkness. I sent Memba Sasa across to pick up the effects we had
left on the opposite ridge, while I myself struck directly across

the flat toward camp.
I had plunged ahead thus, for two or three hundred yards, when I

was brought up short by the violent snort of a rhinoceros just
off the starboard bow. He was very close, but I was unable to

locate him in the dusk. A cautiousretreat and change of course
cleared me from him, and I was about to start on again full speed

when once more I was halted by another rhinoceros, this time dead
ahead. Attempting to back away from him, I aroused another in my

rear; and as though this were not enough a fourth opened up to
the left.

It was absolutely impossible to see anything ten yards away
unless it happened to be silhouetted against the sky. I backed

cautiously" target="_blank" title="ad.小心地；谨慎地">cautiously toward a little bush, with a vague idea of having
something to dodge around. As the old hunter said when, unarmed,

he met the bear, "Anything, even a newspaper, would have come
handy." To my great joy I backed against a conical ant hill four

or five feet high. This I ascended and began anti-rhino
demonstrations. I had no time to fool with rhinos, anyway. I

wanted to get through that jungle before the leopards left their
family circles. I hurled clods of earth and opprobrious shouts

and epithets in the four directions of my four obstreperous
friends, and I thought I counted four reluctant departures. Then,

with considerable doubt, I descended from my ant hill and hurried
down the slope, stumbling over grass hummocks, colliding with

bushes, tangling with vines, but progressing in a gratifyingly
rhinoless condition. Five minutes cautious but rapid feeling my

way brought me through the jungle. Shortly after I raised the
campfires; and so got home.

The next two days were repetitions, with slight variation, of
this experience, minus the rhinos! Starting from camp before

daylight we were only in time to see the herd-always
aggravatingly on the other side of the cover, no matter which

side we selected for our approach, slowly grazing into the dense
jungle. And always they emerged so late and so far away that our

very best efforts failed to get us near them before dark. The
margin always so narrow, however, that our hopes were alive.

On the fourth day, which must be our last in Longeetoto, we found
that the herd had shifted to fresh cover three miles along the

base of the mountains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but
about half-past three we sallied forth dutifully and took

position on a hill overlooking the new hiding place. This
consisted of a wide grove of forest trees varied by occasional

open glades and many dense thickets. So eager were we to win what
had by now developed into a contest that I refused to shoot a

lioness with a three-quarters-grown cub that appeared within easy
shot from some reeds below us.

Time passed as usual until nearly sunset. Then through an opening
into one of the small glades we caught sight of the herd

travelling slowly but steadily from right to left. The glimpse
was only momentary, but it was sufficient to indicate the

direction from which we might expect them to emerge. Therefore we
ran at top speed down from our own hill, tore through the jungle

at its foot, and hastily, but with more caution, mounted the
opposite slope through the scattered groves and high grass. We

could hear occasionally indications of the buffaloes' slow
advance, and we wanted to gain a good ambuscade above them before

they emerged. We found it in the shape of a small conical hillock
perched on the side hill itself, and covered with long grass. It

commanded open vistas through the scattered trees in all
directions. And the thicket itself ended not fifty yards away. No

buffalo could possibly come out without our seeing him; and we
had a good half hour of clear daylight before us. It really