I
wanted to get through that jungle before the leopards left their
family circles. I hurled clods of earth and opprobrious shouts
and epithets in the four directions of my four obstreperous
friends, and I thought I counted four reluctant departures. Then,
with considerable doubt, I descended from my ant hill and hurried
down the slope, stumbling over grass hummocks, colliding with
bushes, tangling with vines, but progressing in a gratifyingly
rhinoless condition. Five minutes cautious but rapid feeling my
way brought me through the jungle. Shortly after I raised the
campfires; and so got home.
The next two days were repetitions, with slight variation, of
this experience, minus the rhinos! Starting from camp before
daylight we were only in time to see the herd-always
aggravatingly on the other side of the cover, no matter which
side we selected for our approach, slowly grazing into the dense
jungle. And always they emerged so late and so far away that our
very best efforts failed to get us near them before dark. The
margin always so narrow, however, that our hopes were alive.
On the fourth day, which must be our last in Longeetoto, we found
that the herd had shifted to fresh cover three miles along the
base of the mountains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but
about half-past three we sallied forth dutifully and took
position on a hill overlooking the new hiding place.
