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.
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