As I have heard old hunters of many times my experience, affirm
that only in a few instances have they themselves been charged

indubitably and with malice aforethought, it might be well to
detail my reasons for believing myself definitely and not blindly

attacked.
The first instance was that when B. killed his second trophy

rhinoceros. The beast's companion refused to leave the dead body
for a long time, but finally withdrew. On our approaching,

however, and after we had been some moments occupied with the
trophy, it returned and charged viciously. It was finally killed

at fifteen yards.
The second instance was of a rhinoceros that got up from the

grass sixty yards away, and came headlong in my direction. At the
moment I was standing on the edge of a narrow eroded ravine, ten

feet deep, with perpendicular sides. The rhinoceros came on
bravely to the edge of this ravine-and stopped. Then he gave an

exhibition of unmitigated bad temper most amusing to
contemplate-from my safe position. He snorted, and stamped, and

pawed the earth, and tramped up and down at a great rate. I sat on
the opposite bank and laughed at him. This did not please him a

bit, but after many short rushes to the edge of the ravine, he
gave it up and departed slowly, his tail very erect and rigid.

>From the persistency with which he tried to get at me, I cannot
but think he intended something of the sort from the first.

The third instance was much more aggravating. In company with
Memba Sasa and Fundi I left camp early one morning to get a

waterbuck. Four or five hundred yards out, however, we came on
fresh buffalo signs, not an hour old. To one who knew anything of

buffaloes' habits this seemed like an excellent chance, for at
this time of the morning they should be feeding not far away

preparatory to seeking cover for the day. Therefore we
immediately took up the trail.

It led us over hills, through valleys, high grass, burned
country, brush, thin scrub, and small woodlandalternately.

Unfortunately we had happened on these buffalo just as they were
about changing district, and they were therefore travelling

steadily. At times the trail was easy to follow and at other
times we had to cast about very diligently to find traces of the

direction even such huge animals had taken. It was interesting
work, however, and we drew on steadily, keeping a sharp lookout

ahead in case the buffalo had come to a halt in some shady
thicket out of the sun. As the latter ascended the heavens and

the scorching heat increased, our confidence in nearing our
quarry ascended likewise, for we knew that buffaloes do not like

great heat. Nevertheless this band continued straight on its way.
I think now they must have got scent of our camp, and had

thereforedecided to move to one of the alternate and widely
separated feeding grounds every herd keeps in its habitat. Only

at noon, and after six hours of steady trailing, covering perhaps
a dozen miles, did we catch them up.

>From the start we had been bothered with rhinoceroses. Five times
did we encounter them, standing almost squarely on the line of

the spoor we were following. Then we had to make a wide quiet
circle to leeward in order to avoid disturbing them, and were

forced to a very minute search in order to pick up the buffalo
tracks again on the other side. This was at once an anxiety and a

delay, and we did not love those rhino.
Finally, at the very edge of the Yatta Plains we overtook the

herd, resting for noon in a scattered thicket. Leaving Fundi, I,
with Memba Sasa, stalked down to them. We crawled and crept by

inches flat to the ground, which was so hot that it fairly burned
the hand. The sun beat down on us fiercely, and the air was close

and heavy even among the scanty grass tufts in which we were
trying to get cover. It was very hard work indeed, but after a

half hour of it we gained a thin bush not over thirty yards from
a half dozen dark and indeterminate bodies dozing in the very

centre of a brush patch. Cautiously I wiped the sweat from my
eyes and raised my glasses. It was slow work and patient work,

picking out and examining each individual beast from the mass.
Finally the job was done. I let fall my glasses.

"Monumookee y'otey-all cows," I whispered to Memba Sasa.
We backed out of there inch by inch, with intention of circling a

short distance to the leeward, and then trying the herd again
lower down. But some awkward slight movement, probably on my

part, caught the eye of one of those blessed cows. She threw up
her head; instantly the whole thicket seemed alive with beasts.

We could hear them crashing and stamping, breaking the brush,
rushing headlong and stopping again; we could even catch

momentary glimpses of dark bodies. After a few minutes we saw the
mass of the herd emerge from the thicket five hundred yards away

and flow up over the hill. There were probably a hundred and
fifty of them, and, looking through my glasses, I saw among them

two fine old bulls. They were of course not much alarmed, as only
the one cow knew what it was all about anyway, and I suspected

they would stop at the next thicket.
We had only one small canteen of water with us, but we divided

that. It probably did us good, but the quantity was not
sufficient to touch our thirst. For the remainder of the day we

suffered rather severely, as the sun was fierce.
After a short interval we followed on after the buffaloes. Within

a half mile beyond the crest of the hill over which they had
disappeared was another thicket. At the very edge of the thicket,

asleep under an outlying bush, stood one of the big bulls!
Luck seemed with us at last. The wind was right, and between us

and the bull lay only four hundred yards of knee-high grass. All
we had to do was to get down on our hands and knees, and, without

further precautions, crawl up within range and pot him. That
meant only a bit of hard, hot work.

When we were about halfway a rhinoceros suddenly arose from the
grass between us and the buffalo, and about one hundred yards

away.
What had aroused him, at that distance and upwind, I do not know.

It hardly seemed possible that he could have heard us, for we
were moving very quietly, and, as I say, we were downwind.

However, there he was on his feet, sniffing now this way, now
that, in search for what had alarmed him. We sank out of sight

and lay low, fully expecting that the brute would make off.
For just twenty-five minutes by the watch that rhinoceros looked

and looked deliberately in all directions while we lay hidden
waiting for him to get over it. Sometimes he would start off

quite confidently for fifty or sixty yards, so that we thought at
last we were rid of him, but always he returned to the exact spot

where we had first seen him, there to stamp, and blow. The
buffalo paid no attention to these manifestations. I suppose

everybody in jungleland is accustomed to rhinoceros bad temper
over nothing. Twice he came in our direction, but both times gave

it up after advancing twenty-five yards or so. We lay flat on our
faces, the vertical sun slowly roasting us, and cursed that

rhino.
Now the significance of this incident is twofold: first, the fact

that, instead of rushing off at the first intimation of our
presence, as would the average rhino, he went methodically to

work to find us; second, that he displayed such remarkable
perseverance as to keep at it nearly a half hour. This was a

spirit quite at variance with that finding its expression in the
blind rush or in the sudden passionate attack. From that point of