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The Land of Footprints-Part21_Stewart Edward White(1873-1946)_English Literature(文学名著)-第2页

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this chance. The approach was easy enough, and at seventy yards



or so B. knocked her flat with a bullet from his .465 Holland.

The beast was immediately afoot, but was as promptly smothered by



shots from us all. So far the affair was very simple, but now

came complication. The second rhinoceros refused to leave. We did



not want to kill it, so we spent a lot of time and pains shooing

it away. We showered rocks and clods of earth in his direction;



we yelled sharply and whistled shrilly. The brute faced here and

there, his pig eyes blinking, his snout upraised, trying to



locate us, and declining to budge. At length he gave us up as

hopeless, and trotted away slowly. We let him go, and when we



thought he had quite departed, we approached to examine B.'s

trophy.



Whereupon the other craftily returned; and charged us, snorting

like an engine blowing off steam. This was a genuine premeditated



charge, as opposed to a blind rush, and it is offered as a good

example of the sort.



The rhinoceros had come fairly close before we got into action.

He headed straight for F. and myself, with B. a little to one



side. Things happened very quickly. F. and I each planted a heavy

bullet in his head; while B. sent a lighter Winchester bullet



into the ribs. The rhino went down in a heap eleven yards away,

and one of us promptly shot him in the spine to finish him.



Personally I was entirely concentrated in the matter at hand-as

is always the way in crises requiring action-and got very few



impressions from anything outside. Nevertheless I imagined,

subconsciously that I had heard four shots. F. and B. disclaimed



more than one apiece, so I concluded myself mistaken, exchanged

my heavy rifle with Fundi for the lighter Winchester, and we



started for camp, leaving all the boys to attend to the dead

rhinos. At camp I threw down the lever of my Winchester-and drew



out an exploded shell!

Here was a double crime on Fundi's part. In the first place, he



had fired the gun, a thing no bearer is supposed ever to do in

any circumstances short of the disarmament and actual mauling of



his master. Naturally this is so, for the white man must be able

in an emergency to depend ABSOLUTELY on his second gun being



loaded and ready for his need. In the second place, Fundi had

given me an empty rifle to carry home. Such a weapon is worse



than none in case of trouble; at least I could have gone up a

tree in the latter case. I would have looked sweet snapping that



old cartridge at anything dangerous!

Therefore after supper we stationed ourselves in a row before the



fire, seated in our canvas chairs, and with due formality sent

word that we wanted all the gunbearers. They came and stood



before us. Memba Sasa erect, military, compact, looking us

straight in the eye; Mavrouki slightly bent forward, his face



alive with the little crafty, calculating smile peculiar to him;

Simba, tall and suave, standing with much social ease; and Fundi,



a trifle frightened, but uncertain as to whether or not he had

been found out.



We stated the matter in a few words.

"Gunbearers, this man Fundi, when the rhinoceros charged, fired



Winchi. Was this the work of a gunbearer?"

The three seasoned men looked at each other with shocked



astonishment that such depravity could exist.

"And being frightened, he gave back Winchi with the exploded



cartridge in her. Was that the work of a gunbearer?"

"No, bwana," said Fundi humbly.



"You, the gunbearers, have been called because we wish to know

what should be done with this man Fundi."



It should be here explained that it is not customary to kiboko,

or flog, men of the gunbearer class. They respect themselves and



their calling, and would never stand that sort of punishment.

When one blunders, a sarcastic scolding is generally sufficient;



a more serious fault may be punished on the spot by the white

man's fist; or a really bad dereliction may cause the man's



instantdegradation from the post. With this in mind we had

called the council of gunbearers. Memba Sasa spoke.



"Bwana," said he, "this man is not a true gunbearer. He is no

longer a true porter. He carries a gun in the field, like a



gunbearer; and he knows much of the duty of gunbearer. Also he

does not run away nor climb trees. But he carries in the meat;






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