They Are Bad Enough In The Open Plains, Where They Can Be Seen And
Avoided, But In The Tall Grass Or The Scrub They Are A Continuous
Anxiety.
No cover seems small enough to reveal them.
Often they
will stand or lie absolutely immobile until you are within a very
short distance, and then will outrageously break out. They are,
in spite of their clumsy build, as quick and active as polo
ponies, and are the only beasts I know of capable of leaping into
full speed ahead from a recumbent position. In thorn scrub they
are the worst, for there, no matter how alert the traveller may
hold himself, he is likely to come around a bush smack on one.
And a dozen times a day the throat-stopping, abrupt crash and
smash to right or left brings him up all standing, his heart
racing, the blood pounding through his veins. It is jumpy work,
and is very hard on the temper. In the natural reaction from
being startled into fits one snaps back to profanity. The
cumulative effects of the epithets hurled after a departing and
inconsiderately hasty rhinoceros may have done something toward
ruining the temper of the species. It does not matter whether or
not the individual beast proves dangerous; he is inevitably most
startling. I have come in at night with my eyes fairly aching
from spying for rhinos during a day's journey through high grass.
And, as a friend remarked, rhinos are such a mussy death. One
poor chap, killed while we were away on our first trip, could not
be moved from the spot where he had been trampled. A few
shovelfuls of earth over the remains was all the rhinoceros had
left possible.
Fortunately, in the thick stuff especially, it is often possible
to avoid the chance rhinoceros through the warning given by the
rhinoceros birds. These are birds about the size of a robin that
accompany the beast everywhere. They sit in a row along his back
occupying themselves with ticks and a good place to roost. Always
they are peaceful and quiet until a human being approaches. Then
they flutter a few feet into the air uttering a peculiar rapid
chattering. Writers with more sentiment than sense of proportion
assure us that this warns the rhinoceros of approaching danger!
On the contrary, I always looked at it the other way. The
rhinoceros birds thereby warned ME of danger, and I was duly
thankful.
The safari boys stand quite justly in a holy awe of the rhino.
The safari is strung out over a mile or two of country, as a
usual thing, and a downwind rhino is sure to pierce some part of
the line in his rush. Then down go the loads with a smash, and up
the nearest trees swarm the boys. Usually their refuges are thorn
trees, armed, even on the main trunk, with long sharp spikes.
There is no difficulty in going up, but the gingerly coming down,
after all the excitement has died, is a matter of deliberation
and of voices uplifted in woe.
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