There was a
rhinoceros wandering peaceably over the little knoll back of
camp, and headed exactly in our direction. While we watched, he
strolled through the edge of camp, descended the steep bank to
the river's edge, drank, climbed the bank, strolled through camp
again and departed over the hill. To us he paid not the slightest
attention. It seems impossible to believe that he neither scented
nor saw any evidences of human life in all that populated flat,
especially when one considers how often these beasts will SEEM to
become aware of man's presence by telepathy.* Perhaps he was the
one exception to the whole race, and was a good-natured rhino.
*Opposing theories are those of "instinct," and of slight causes,
such a grasshoppers leaping before the hunter's feet, not noticed
by the man approaching.
The babies are astonishing and amusing creatures, with blunt
noses on which the horns are just beginning to form, and with
even fewer manners than their parents. The mere fact of an
800-pound baby does not cease to be curious. They are truculent
little creatures, and sometimes rather hard to avoid when they
get on the warpath. Generally, as far as my observation goes, the
mother gives birth to but one at a time. There may be occasional
twin births, but I happen never to have met so interesting a
family.
Rhinoceroses are still very numerous-too numerous. I have seen
as many as fourteen in two hours, and probably could have found
as many more if I had been searching for them. There is no doubt,
however, that this species must be the first to disappear of the
larger African animals. His great size combined with his 'orrid
'abits mark him for early destruction. No such dangerous lunatic
can be allowed at large in a settled country, nor in a country
where men are travelling constantly. The species will probably be
preserved in appropriate restricted areas. It would be a great
pity to have so perfect an example of the Prehistoric Pinhead
wiped out completely. Elsewhere he will diminish, and finally
disappear.
For one thing, and for one thing only, is the traveller indebted
to the rhinoceros. The beast is lazy, large, and has an excellent
eye for easy ways through. For this reason, as regards the
question of good roads, he combines the excellent qualities of
Public Sentiment, the Steam Roller, and the Expert Engineer.
Through thorn thickets impenetrable to anything less armoured
than a Dreadnaught like himself he clears excellent paths. Down
and out of eroded ravines with perpendicular sides he makes
excellent wide trails, tramped hard, on easy grades, often with
zigzags to ease the slant. In some of the high country where the
torrential rains wash hundreds of such gullies across the line of
march it is hardly an exaggeration to say that travel would be
practically impossible without the rhino trails wherewith to
cross. Sometimes the perpendicular banks will extend for miles
without offering any natural break down to the stream-bed. Since
this is so I respectfully submit to Government the following
proposal:
(a) That a limited number of these beasts shall be licensed as
Trail Rhinos; and that all the rest shall be killed from the
settled and regularly travelled districts.
(b) That these Trail Rhinos shall be suitably hobbled by short
steel chains.
(c) That each Trail Rhino shall carry painted conspicuously on
his side his serial number.
(d) That as a further precaution for public safety each Trail
Rhino shall carry firmly attached to his tail a suitable red
warning flag. Thus the well-known habit of the rhinoceros of
elevating his tail rigidly when about to charge, or when in the
act of charging, will fly the flag as a warning to travellers.
(e) That an official shall be appointed to be known as the
Inspector of Rhinos whose duty it shall be to examine the
hobbles, numbers and flags of all Trail Rhinos, and to keep the
same in due working order and repair.
And I do submit to all and sundry that the above resolutions have
as much sense to them as have most of the petitions submitted to
Government by settlers in a new country.
XXIII. THE HIPPO POOL
For a number of days we camped in a grove just above a dense
jungle and not fifty paces from the bank of a deep and wide
river. We could at various points push through light low
undergrowth, or stoop beneath clear limbs, or emerge on tiny open
banks and promontories to look out over the width of the stream.
The river here was some three or four hundred feet wide. It
cascaded down through various large boulders and sluiceways to
fall bubbling and boiling into deep water; it then flowed still
and sluggish for nearly a half mile and finally divided into
channels around a number of wooded islands of different sizes. In
the long still stretch dwelt about sixty hippopotamuses of all
sizes.
During our stay these hippos led a life of alarmed and angry
care. When we first arrived they were distributed picturesquely
on banks or sandbars, or were lying in midstream. At once they
disappeared under water. By the end of four or five minutes they
began to come to the surface. Each beast took one disgusted look,
snorted, and sank again. So hasty was his action that he did not
even take time to get a full breath; consequently up he had to
come in not more than two minutes, this time. The third
submersion lasted less than a minute; and at the end of half hour
of yelling we had the hippos alternating between the bottom of
the river and the surface of the water about as fast as they
could make a round trip, blowing like porpoises. It was a comical
sight. And as some of the boys were always out watching the show,
those hippos had no respite during the daylight hours.
