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
view it seems to me that the interest and significance of the
incident can hardly be overstated.
Four or five times we thought ourselves freed of the nuisance,
but always, just as we were about to move on, back he came, as
eager as ever to nose us out.
