My
double-barreled No. 10 rifles are two-grooved, and an infinity
of trouble they gave me for the first two years. Many a time I
have been giving my whole weight to the loading rod, with a ball
stuck half-way down the barrel, while wounded elephants lay
struggling upon the ground, expected every moment to rise. >From
constant use and repeated cleaning they have now become so
perfect that they load with the greatest ease; but guns of their
age are not fair samples of their class, and for rifles in
general for sporting purposes I should give a decided preference
to the many-groove. I have had a long two-ounce rifle of the
latter class, which I have shot with for many years, and it
certainly is not so hard a hitter as the two-grooved No. 10's;
but it hits uncommonly hard, too; and if I do not bag with it, it
is always my fault, and no blame can be attached to the rifle.
For heavy game-shooting, I do not think there can be a much
fairer standard for the charge of powder than one-fifth the
weight of the ball for all bores. Some persons do not use so
much as this; but I am always an advocate for strong guns and
plenty of powder.
A heavy charge will reach the brain of an elephant, no matter in
what position he may stand, provided a proper angle is taken for
attaining it. A trifling amount of powder is sufficient, if the
elephant offers a front shot, or the temple at right angles, or
the ear shot; but if a man pretend to a knowledge of
elephant-shooting, he should think of nothing but the brain, and
his knowledge of the anatomy of the elephant's head should be
such that he can direct a straight line to this mark from any
position. He then requires a rifle of such power that the ball
will crash through every obstacle along the course directed. To
effect this he must not be stingy of the powder.
I have frequently killed elephants by curious shots with the
rifles in this manner; but I once killed a bull elephant by one
shot in the upper jaw, which will at once exemplify the
advantage of a powerful rifle in taking the angle for the brain.
My friend Palliser and I were out shooting on the day previous,
and we had spent some hours in vainly endeavouring to track up a
single bull elephant. I forget what we bagged, but I recollect
well that we were unlucky in finding our legitimate game. That
night at dinner we heard elephants roaring in the Yallé river,
upon the banks of which our tent was pitched in fine open forest.
For about an hour the roaring was continued, apparently on both
sides the river, and we immediately surmised that our gentleman
friend on our side of the stream was answering the call of the
ladies of some herd on the opposite bank. We went to sleep with
the intention of waking at dawn of day, and then strolling
quietly along with only two gun-bearers each, who were to carry
my four double No 10's, while we each carried a single barrel for
deer.
The earliest gray tint of morning saw us dressed and ready, the
rifles loaded, a preliminary cup of hot chocolate swallowed, and
we were off while the forest was still gloomy; the night seemed
to hang about it, although the sky was rapidly clearing above.
A noble piece of Nature's handiwork is that same Yallé forest.
The river flows sluggishly through its centre in a breadth of
perhaps ninety yards, and the immense forest trees extend their
giant arms from the high banks above the stream, throwing dark
shadows upon its surface, enlivened by the silvery glitter of the
fish as they dart against the current. Little glades of rank
grass occasionally break the monotony of the dark forest; sandy
gullies in deep beds formed by the torrents of the rainy season
cut through the crumbling soil and drain toward the river. Thick
brushwood now and then forms an opposing barrier, but generally
the forest is beautifully open, consisting of towering trees, the
leviathans of their race, sheltering the scanty saplings which
have spring from their fallen seeds. For a few hundred yards on
either side of the river the forest extends in a ribbon-like
strip of lofty vegetation in the surrounding sea of low scrubby
jungle. The animals leave the low jungle at night, passing
through the forest on their way to the river to bathe and drink;
they return to the low and thick jungle at break of day and we
hoped to meet some of the satiated elephants on their way to
their dense habitations.
We almost made sure of finding our friend of yesterday's trek,
and we accordingly kept close to the edge of the river, keeping a
sharp eye for tracks upon the sandy bed below.
We had strolled for about a mile along the high bank of the river
without seeing a sign of an elephant, when I presently heard a
rustle in the branches before me, and upon looking up I saw a lot
of monkeys gamboling in the trees. I was carrying my long
two-ounce rifle, and I was passing beneath the monkey-covered
boughs, when I suddenly observed a young tree of the thickness of
a man's thigh shaking violently just before me.
It happened that the jungle was a little thicker in his spot, and
at the same moment that I observed the tree shaking almost over
me, I passed the immense stem of one of those smooth-barked trees
which grow to such an enormous size on the banks of rivers.
