BY THE SAME AUTHOR.

A HUNTER'S WANDERINGS IN AFRICA. Nine Years amongst the Game of the Far Interior of South Africa. By Frederick Courteney Selous. Illustrated. Fifth Edition. 7s. 6d. net.

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AFRICAN NATURE NOTES AND REMINISCENCES

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"UNFORTUNATELY, ONE OF THESE TERRIFIC BLOWS, VERY PROBABLY THE FIRST AIMED AT THE LEOPARD WHICH SEIZED THE CALF, HAD STRUCK THE LITTLE CREATURE ON THE LOINS AND BROKEN ITS BACK."—Page [220].

African Nature Notes
and
Reminiscences

BY
FREDERICK COURTENEY SELOUS, F.Z.S.
GOLD MEDALLIST OF THE ROYAL GEOGRAPHICAL SOCIETY

WITH A "FOREWORD" BY
PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

AND ILLUSTRATIONS BY
E. CALDWELL

MACMILLAN AND CO., LIMITED
ST. MARTIN'S STREET, LONDON
1908

TO
THEODORE ROOSEVELT
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA
THIS BOOK IS RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED NOT ONLY BECAUSE IT WAS ENTIRELY OWING TO HIS INSPIRATION AND KINDLY ENCOURAGEMENT THAT IT WAS EVER WRITTEN BUT ALSO BECAUSE BOTH IN HIS PRIVATE AND PUBLIC LIFE HE HAS ALWAYS WON THE SINCERE ADMIRATION AND ESTEEM
OF
THE AUTHOR

PREFACE

The chapters comprised in the present volume were written at various times during the last ten years. Some of them have already appeared in print in the pages of the Field, Land and Water, and other papers, but the majority have remained in manuscript until now. The greatest part of the matter in the chapters on the "Lion" was written some years ago, and was intended to be the commencement of a book dealing entirely with the life-history of South African mammals. When, however, I was asked by Mr. Rowland Ward to contribute to a book he was about to publish on the Great and Small Game of Africa, all the articles in which would be written by men who had personally studied the habits of the animals they described, I gave up the idea of myself writing a less comprehensive work on similar lines, and became one of the chief contributors to Mr. Ward's large and valuable publication.

My manuscript notes on the lion and some other animals were then consigned to the seclusion of a drawer in my study, from which they would probably never again have emerged had it not been for the fact that during the autumn of 1905 I had the honour to be the guest of President Roosevelt at the White House in Washington.

I found that President Roosevelt's knowledge of wild animals was not confined to the big game of North America, with which he has made himself so intimately acquainted by long personal experience, but that he also possessed a most comprehensive acquaintance with the habits of the fauna of the whole world, derived from the careful study of practically every book that has been written on the subject.

In the course of conversation, President Roosevelt remarked that he wished I would bring out another book, adding to the natural history notes which I had already written on the big game of South Africa; and on my telling him that I had some manuscript notes on the lion and other animals which I had once intended to publish, but had subsequently put on one side, he requested me to let him see them. On my return to England I at once posted these articles to President Roosevelt, who was kind enough to say that he had found them so interesting that he earnestly hoped I would add to them and bring out another book. Thus encouraged, I set about the revision of all my recent writings dealing with the natural history of South African animals which had not been published in book form, and after arranging them in chapters, sent the whole of the manuscript to President Roosevelt, at the same time asking him to be good enough to look through them, if he could find the time to do so, and telling him that if he thought them of sufficient interest to publish in the form of a book, how much I should appreciate it, if he were able to write me a few lines by way of introduction, since the publication of the book would be entirely due to the kind encouragement and inspiration I had received from himself. This request met with a most kind and generous response, for which I shall ever feel most grateful, for, in the midst of all his multifarious and harassing public duties, President Roosevelt contrived to find the time to write an introduction to my book, which adds to it a most interesting and valuable chapter.

The title I have given to my book, African Nature Notes and Reminiscences, though it perhaps lacks terseness, nevertheless exactly describes its scope, and although the chapters dealing with the "Tse-tse" Fly and the subject of Protective Coloration and the Influence of Environment on large mammals may have no interest except for a small number of naturalists, I trust that much of the matter contained in the remaining seventeen articles will appeal to a much wider public.

I must once more acknowledge my indebtedness to President Roosevelt, not only for the very interesting "Foreword" he has contributed to this book, but also for the constant encouragement he has given me during its preparation.

My best thanks are also due to Mr. Max C. Fleischmann of Cincinnati for the very remarkable account which will be found at the end of Chapter X. of the struggle between a crocodile and a rhinoceros, of which he was an eye-witness; as well as to my friend Mr. E. Caldwell for the great pains he has taken to render the ten illustrations emanating from his able pencil as lifelike as possible.

As it is possible that some of those who may glance through this book may be versed in South African languages, and may remark that I have sometimes represented the Masarwa Bushmen as speaking in the Sechwana language, and at others in the dialect spoken by the Matabele, it may perhaps be as well to explain that whilst the greater part of the Bushmen living between the Limpopo and the Zambesi were the serfs of Bechwana masters, a few of those living near the western border of Matabeleland had become the vassals of certain Matabele headmen, by whom they were employed as hunters and trappers. Besides their own language—which is almost impossible of acquirement by a European—all the Bushmen I ever met spoke that of their masters as well. This was usually Sechwana, but sometimes Sintabele—the language of the Matabele people.

F. C. SELOUS.

Worplesdon, Surrey,
Dec. 31, 1907.

FOREWORD

Mr. Selous is the last of the big-game hunters of South Africa; the last of the mighty hunters whose experiences lay in the greatest hunting ground which this world has seen since civilized man has appeared therein. There are still many happy hunting grounds to be found by adventure-loving wilderness wanderers of sufficient hardihood and prowess; and in Central Africa the hunting grounds are of a character to satisfy the most exacting hunter of to-day. Nevertheless, they none of them quite equal South Africa as it once was, whether as regards the extraordinary multitude of big-game animals, the extraordinary variety of the species, or the bold attraction of the conditions under which the hunting was carried on.

Mr. Selous is much more than a mere big-game hunter, however; he is by instinct a keen field naturalist, an observer with a power of seeing, and of remembering what he has seen; and finally he is a writer who possesses to a very marked and unusual degree the power vividly and accurately to put on paper his observations. Such a combination of qualities is rare indeed, and the lack of any one of them effectually prevents any man from doing work as valuable as Mr. Selous has done. No ordinary naturalist fills the place at all. Big game exists only in the remote wilderness. Throughout historic time it has receded steadily before the advance of civilized man, and now the retrogression—or, to be more accurate, the extermination—is going on with appalling rapidity. The ordinary naturalist, if he goes into the haunts of big game, is apt to find numerous small animals of interest, and he naturally devotes an altogether disproportionate share of his time to these. Yet such time is almost wasted; for the little animals, and especially the insects and small birds, remain in the land long after the big game has vanished, and can then be studied at leisure by hosts of observers. The observation of the great beasts of the marsh and the mountain, the desert and the forest, must be made by those hardy adventurers who, unless explorers by profession, are almost certainly men to whom the chase itself is a dominant attraction. But the great majority of these hunters have no power whatever of seeing accurately. There is no fonder delusion than the belief that the average old hunter knows all about the animals of the wilderness. The Bushman may; but, as Mr. Selous has shown, neither the average English, Boer, nor Kafir hunter in South Africa does; and neither does the white or Indian hunter in North America. Any one who doubts this can be referred to what Mr. Selous has elsewhere said concerning the rhinoceroses of South Africa and the astounding misinformation about them which the average South African hunter of every type believed and perpetuated; and in my own experience I have found that most white and Indian hunters in the Rocky Mountains are just as little to be trusted when, for instance, they speak of the grizzly bear and the cougar—two animals which always tend to excite their imaginations. Finally, the few accurate observers among the men who have seen much of big game are apt wholly to lack the power of expression, and this means that their knowledge can benefit no one. The love of nature, the love of outdoor life, is growing in our race, and it is well that it should grow. Therefore we should prize exceedingly all contributions of worth to the life-histories of the great, splendid, terrible beasts whose lives add an immense majesty to the far-off wilds, and who inevitably pass away before the onrush of the greedy, energetic, forceful men, usually both unscrupulous and short-sighted, who make up the vanguard of civilization.

Mr. Selous has hunted in many parts of the world, but his most noteworthy experiences were in Africa, south of the Zambezi, when the dry uplands, and the valleys of the dwindling rivers, and the thick coast jungle belt, still held a fauna as vast and varied as that of the Pleistocene. Mighty hunters, Dutch and English, roamed hither and thither across the land on foot and on horseback, alone, or guiding the huge white-topped ox-wagons; several among their number wrote with power and charm of their adventures; and at the very last the man arose who could tell us more of value than any of his predecessors.

Mr. Selous by his observations illustrates the great desirability of having the views of the closet naturalist tested by competent field observers. In a previous volume he has effectively answered those amiable closet theorists who once advanced the Rousseau-like belief that in the state of nature hunted creatures suffered but little from either pain or terror; the truth being that, in the easy conditions of civilized life, we hardly even conceive of pain and horror as they were in times primeval; while it is only in nightmares that we now realize the maddened, hideous terror which our remote ancestors so often underwent, and which is a common incident in the lives of all harmless wild creatures. In the first two chapters of the present volume, Mr. Selous' remarks on the fallacy of much of the theory of protective coloration are excellent. The whole subject is one fraught with difficulty and deserving of far more careful study than has ever yet been given it. That the general pattern of coloration, so to speak, of birds and mammals of the snowy North as compared to the South, of a dry desert as compared to a wet forest region, is due to the effect of the environment I have no question; and Mr. Selous' observations and arguments show that the protective theory has been ridiculously overworked in trying to account for coloration like that of the zebra and giraffe, for instance; but there is much that as yet it is difficult to explain.

The most conspicuous colors of nature, for instance, are, under ordinary circumstances, black and white. Yet we continually find black, and sometimes white, animals thriving as well as their more dull-colored compeers under conditions that certainly seem as if they ought to favor the latter. The white goat of the Rocky Mountains may be helped by its coloration in winter, but in summer its white coat advertises its presence to every man or beast within range of vision, and this at the very time when the little white kids are most in need of protection. Eagles are formidable foes of these little kids, and undoubtedly their white color is a disadvantage to them in the struggle for existence, when they are compared with the dull-colored lambs of the mountain sheep of the same general habitat. The sheep tend to become mainly or entirely white at the northern portion of their range—thereby becoming exceedingly conspicuous in summer—but change to grays and browns from the semi-Arctic regions southward. The goats, however, remain white everywhere.

Again, birds and mammals of the far North tend to be white, but one of the typical far northern birds is the jet black raven. It is hard to believe that the color of the snowy owl assists it in getting its prey, or that its color hampers the raven. The northern weasels and northern hares of America both turn white in winter. Thru most of their range the various species of these weasels and hares exist side by side with the close kinsmen of the weasel, the mink and the sable, and at the southern boundary of their range side by side with the small gray rabbits; none of which change their color any more than the lynx and fox do, and yet in the struggle for life seem to be put to no disadvantage thereby. The Arctic hare changes color as does the ptarmigan. The ordinary snow-shoe rabbits and jack-rabbits of the woods and plains south of the Arctic hare region also change their color; but the grouse which inhabit the same woods or open plains, such as the ruffed, the sharp-tailed and the spruce, unlike their northern kinsman, the ptarmigan, undergo no seasonal change. Around my ranch on the Little Missouri, the jack-rabbits all turned white in winter; the little cotton-tail rabbits did not; yet as far as I could see both species were equally at home and fared equally well.

When a boy, shooting on the edges of the desert in Egypt, I was imprest with the fact that the sand grouse, rosy bullfinches, sand larks and sand chats all in the coloration of their upper parts harmonized strikingly with the surroundings, while the bold black and white chats were peculiarly noticeable, and yet as far as I could see held their own as well in the struggle for existence. But as regards the first-named birds it seemed to me at the time that their coloration was probably protective, for in the breeding season the males of some of them showed striking colors, but always underneath, where they would not attract the attention of foes.

Mr. Selous also shows that the "signal" or "mutual recognition" theory of coloration has been at the least carried to an extreme by closet naturalists. The prongbuck of North America has the power of erecting the glistening white hairs on its rump until it looks like a chrysanthemum; but there seems scarcely any need of this as a signal; for prongbucks live out on the bare plains, never seek to avoid observation, are very conspicuous beasts, and have eyes like telescopes, so that one of them can easily see another a mile or two off. According to my experience—but of course the experience of any one man is of limited value, and affords little ground for generalization—the "chrysanthemum" is shown when the beast is much aroused by curiosity or excitement.

Mr. Selous' chapters on the lion possess a peculiar interest, for they represent without any exception the best study we have of the great, tawny, maned cat. No one observer can possibly cover the entire ground in a case such as this, for individual animals differ markedly from one another in many essential traits, and all the animals of one species in one locality sometimes differ markedly from all the animals of the same species in another locality (as I have myself found, in some extraordinary particulars, in the case of the grizzly bear). Therefore, especially with a beast like the lion, one of the most interesting of all beasts, it is necessary for the naturalist to have at hand the observations of many different men; but no other single observer has left a record of the lion of such value to the naturalist as Mr. Selous.

One of the most interesting of Mr. Selous' chapters is that containing his notes on wild dogs, on hunting hounds, and on cheetahs. Especially noteworthy are his experiences in actually running down and overtaking by sheer speed of horse and hound both the wild dog and the cheetah. These experiences are literally inexplicable with our present knowledge; and therefore it is all the more valuable to have them recorded, Mr. Selous' own account of the speed of wild dogs and the statements of many competent observers about cheetahs—as for instance, of that mighty hunter, Sir Samuel Baker—make it clear that under ordinary circumstances both wild dogs and cheetahs, when running after their game, go at a speed far surpassing that of a horse. Yet in these instances given by Mr. Selous, he and his companions with their camp dogs once fairly ran down a pack of wild dogs; and twice he fairly ran down full-grown cheetahs. In the last case it is possible that the hunted cheetah, not at first realizing his danger, did not put forth his full speed at the beginning, and, not being a long-winded animal, was exhausted and unable to spurt when he really discovered his peril. But with the hunting dogs it is hard to imagine any explanation unless they were gorged with food. In coursing wolves with greyhounds, I have noticed that the dogs will speedily run into even an old dog wolf, if he is found lying by a carcase on which he has feasted, under conditions which would almost certainly have insured his escape if he had been in good running trim. I once saw a cougar, an old male, jump from a ledge of rock surrounded by hounds and come down hill for several hundred yards thru the snow. The hounds started almost on even terms with him, but he drew away from them at once, and when he reached the bottom of the hill, was a good distance ahead; but by this time he had shot his bolt, and after going up hill for a very few yards he climbed into a low evergreen tree, which I reached almost as soon as the hounds. His lungs were then working like bellows, and it was obvious he could have gone no distance further.

The book of nature has many difficult passages, and some of them seem mutually contradictory. It is a good thing to have capable observers who can record faithfully what they find therein, and who are not in the least afraid of putting down two observations which are in seeming conflict. Allied species often differ so radically in their habits that, with our present knowledge, not even a guess can be made as to the reason for the difference; this makes it all the more necessary that there should be a multitude of trustworthy observations. Mr. Selous points out, for instance, the extraordinary difference in pugnacity between the fighting roan and sable antelopes, on the one hand, and on the other, the koodoo and the mild eland. There is quite as great difference between far more closely allied species, or even between individuals of one species in one place and those of the same species in another place. Sometimes the reasons for the difference are apparent; all carnivores in India, with its dense, feeble population, would at times naturally take to man-killing. In other cases, at least a guess may be hazarded. The wolf of America has never been dangerous to man, as his no larger or more formidable brother of Asia and Europe has been from time immemorial; yet the difference may be accounted for by the difference of environment. But it is hard to say why the cougar, which is just about the size of the great spotted cats, and which preys on practically the same animals, should not be dangerous to man, while they are singularly formidable fighters when at bay. The largest cougar I ever killed was eight feet long and weighed over two hundred pounds. Very few African leopards or Indian panthers would surpass these measurements, and this particular animal had been preying not only on deer, but on horses and cattle; yet I killed him with no danger to myself, under circumstances which would probably have insured a charge from one of the big spotted cats of Africa or Asia, or, for the matter of that, from a South American jaguar. And by the way, in reading of the ravages committed by leopards among the hounds of the sport-loving planters of Ceylon, it has always seemed to me strange that these planters did not turn the tables on the aggressors by training packs especially to hunt them. Such a pack as that with which I have hunted the cougar and the black bear in the Rocky Mountains would, I am sure, give a good account of any leopard or panther that ever lived. All that would be needed would be a good pack of trained hounds and six or eight first-class fighting dogs in order, as I thoroughly believe, completely to clear out the leopard from any given locality.

Mr. Selous' notes on the Cape buffalo and tsetse fly are extremely interesting. But indeed this is true of all that he has written, both of the great game beasts themselves and of his adventures in hunting them. His book is a genuine contribution alike to hunting lore and to natural history. It should be welcomed by every lover of the chase and by every man who cares for the wild, free life of the wilderness. It should be no less welcome to all who are interested in the life-histories of the most formidable and interesting of the beasts that dwell in our world to-day.

THEODORE ROOSEVELT.

The White House,
May 23, 1907.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I

NOTES ON THE QUESTIONS OF PROTECTIVE COLORATION, RECOGNITION MARKS, AND THE INFLUENCE OF ENVIRONMENT ON LIVING ORGANISMS

Harmony of colour in nature—Theory of protective coloration—Sexual selection—Conspicuous colours not harmful—The influence of environment—The leucoryx—The Barbary sheep—The Sardinian moufflon—African butterflies—Coloration of the musk ox and caribou—Arctic hares and foxes—Coloration of mammals in the Yukon Territory—The chamois in winter—Examples of conspicuous coloration in African mammals—Colour not always protective—Carnivorous animals usually hunt by scent—Wild dogs and wolves—Wild dog and sable antelope—Sense of smell in herbivorous animals—Sight of antelopes—Experience with waterbuck—Dull sight of caribou—Demeanour of wild animals when alarmed—Small antelopes—Lions—Large antelopes—Difficulty of seeing wild animals sometimes exaggerated—Powers of sight of Bushmen—Colour not protective against animals which hunt by night and by scent—Animals in motion easy to see—Restlessness of wild animals—Lions attacking bullocks—Zebras the principal prey of lions since the disappearance of buffaloes—Appearance of zebras—Undoubtedly conspicuous animals in open country—Zebras by moonlight—Strong smell of zebras—Conspicuous antelopes in East Africa—Effect of the juxtaposition of black and white—Bold coloration of the sable antelope

Pages [1]-[23]

CHAPTER II

FURTHER NOTES ON THE QUESTIONS OF PROTECTIVE COLORATION, RECOGNITION MARKS, AND THE INFLUENCE OF ENVIRONMENT ON LIVING ORGANISMS

Occasional resemblance of African mammals to natural objects—Hartebeests—Elephants—Giraffes—Coloration of the Somali giraffe—Giraffes not in need of a protective coloration—Koodoos and sable antelopes—Acute sense of hearing in the moose—Possible explanation of large size of ears in the African tragelaphine antelopes—Coloration of bushbucks, situtungas, and inyalas—Leopards the only enemies of the smaller bush-haunting antelopes—Recognition marks—Must render animals conspicuous to friend and foe alike—Ranges of allied species of antelopes seldom overlap—Hybridisation sometimes takes place—Wonderful coloration of the bontebok—Coloration distinctly conspicuous and therefore not protective—Recognition marks unnecessary—Coloration of the blesbok—The blesbok merely a duller coloured bontebok—Difference in the habitat of the two species—The coloration of both species may be due to the influence of their respective environments—The weak point in the theory of protective coloration when applied to large mammals—Hares and foxes in the Arctic and sub-Arctic regions—The efficacy of colour protection at once destroyed by movement—Buffaloes and lions—General conclusions regarding the theory of protective coloration as applied to large mammals

Pages 24-43

CHAPTER III

NOTES ON THE LION

The lion—Native names for—Character of—Death of Ponto—Picture in Gordon Cumming's book—Death of Hendrik—Number of natives killed by lions—Usual mode of seizure—A trooper's adventure—Poisonous nature of lion's bite—Story of the Tsavo man-eaters—Death of Mr. Ryall—Story of the tragedy—Precautions by natives against lions—Remains of a lion's victim found—Four women killed—Lion killed—Carcase burned—Story of the Majili man-eater—Man-eating lions usually old animals—Strength of lions—Large ox killed by single lion—Buffaloes killed by lions—Ox slowly killed by family of lions—Lions usually silent when attacking and killing their prey—Camp approached by three lions—Various ways of killing game—Favourite food of lions—Giraffes rarely killed by lions—Evidence as to lions attacking elephants—Michael Engelbreght's story—Mr. Arnot's letter describing the killing of an elephant cow by six lions

Pages [44]-[66]

CHAPTER IV

NOTES ON THE LION (continued)

Depredations of lions in Mashunaland—Sad death of Mr. Teale—Great slaughter of pigs by a lioness—Mode of entering a cattle kraal—Method of killing prey—Sharpness of lion's claws—Mode of seizing a horse in motion—Lion chasing koodoos—Lions lying in wait for oxen—How a lion charges—Black Jantje's story—Numbing effect of lion's bite—Cruelty in nature—Appearance of wild lions—Colour of eyes—Lions at bay—A crouching lion—A lucky shot—The cat a lion in miniature—A danger signal—Social habits of lions—Troops of lions—Lions on the Mababi plain—Difference between cubs of one litter—Individual differences in lions—Great variation in the development of the mane—Lion probably first evolved in a cold climate—Still found in Europe in the time of Herodotus—Effect of cold on growth of lion's mane

Pages [67]-[84]

CHAPTER V

NOTES ON THE LION (concluded)

Method of opening a carcase—Removal of paunch and entrails—Lions skilful butchers—Paunch and entrails not usually eaten—Lions not bone-eaters—Will eat putrid meat—Will sometimes devour their own kind—Number of cubs at birth—Check on inordinate increase of carnivorous animals—The lion's roar—Diversity of opinion concerning its power—Probable explanation—Volume of sound when several lions roar in unison—A nerve-shaking experience—Lions silent when approaching their prey—Roar after killing—And in answer to one another—Lions only roar freely in undisturbed districts—Lions essentially game-killers—But change their habits with circumstances—Killing lions with spear and shield—Bambaleli's splendid courage—Lions killed by Bushmen with poisoned arrows—Behaviour of domestic animals in the presence of lions—Cattle sometimes terrified, at other times show no fear

Pages [85]-[97]

CHAPTER VI

NOTES ON THE SPOTTED HYÆNA

Character of hyænas—Contrasted with that of wolves—Story illustrating the strength and audacity of a spotted hyæna—How a goat was seized and carried off—A mean trick—Boldness of hyænas near native villages—More suspicious in the wilderness—Very destructive to native live stock—Will sometimes enter native huts—Giving an old woman to the hyænas—How the smelling out of witches benefited the hyænas—"Come out, missionary, and give us the witch"—Number of hyænas infesting Matabeleland in olden times—Trials for witchcraft in Matabeleland—Food of hyænas—Strength of jaws—Charged by a wounded hyæna—Heavy trap broken up—Killing hyænas with set guns—Hyæna held by dogs—Hyæna attacked by wild dogs—Pace of hyænas—Curious experience on the Mababi plain—The hyæna's howl—Rhinoceros calf killed by hyænas—Smell of hyænas—Hyæna meat a delicacy—Small cows and donkeys easily killed by hyænas—Size and weight of the spotted hyæna—Number of whelps

Pages [98]-[118]

CHAPTER VII

NOTES ON WILD DOGS AND CHETAHS

Wild dogs not very numerous—Hunt in packs—Attack herd of buffaloes—First experience with wild dogs—Impala antelope killed—Koodoo cow driven into shed—Koodoo driven to waggon—Wild dogs not dangerous to human beings—Greatly feared by all antelopes—Wild dog pursuing sable antelope—Great pace displayed—Wild dogs capable of running down every kind of African antelope—General opinion as to the running powers of wild dogs—Curious incidents—Chasing wild dogs with tame ones—One wild dog galloped over and shot—Two others caught and worried by tame dogs—Wild dog shamming dead—Clever escape—Chetahs overtaken on horseback—Three chetahs seen—Two females passed—Male galloped down—A second chetah overtaken—Great speed of trained Indian chetahs—Three chetah cubs found—Brought up by bitch

Pages [119]-[129]

CHAPTER VIII

EXTINCTION AND DIMINUTION OF GAME IN SOUTH AFRICA—NOTES ON THE CAPE BUFFALO

Extinction of the blaauwbok and the true quagga—Threatened extermination of the black and white rhinoceros and the buffalo in South Africa—Former abundance of game—Scene in the valley of Dett witnessed by the author in 1873—Buffaloes protected by the Cape Government—But few survivors in other parts of South Africa—Abundance of buffaloes in former times—Extent of their range—Still plentiful in places up to 1896—The terrible epidemic of rinderpest—Character of the African buffalo—A matter of individual experience—Comparison of buffalo with the lion and elephant—Danger of following wounded buffaloes into thick cover—Personal experiences—Well-known sportsman killed by a buffalo—Usual action of buffaloes when wounded—Difficult to stop when actually charging—The moaning bellow of a dying buffalo—Probable reasons for some apparently unprovoked attacks by buffaloes—Speed of buffaloes—Colour, texture, and abundance of coat at different ages—Abundance of buffaloes along the Chobi river—Demeanour of old buffalo bulls—"God's cattle"—Elephants waiting for a herd of buffaloes to leave a pool of water before themselves coming down to drink

Pages [130]-[148]

CHAPTER IX

NOTES ON THE TSE-TSE FLY

Connection between buffaloes and tse-tse flies—Sir Alfred Sharpe's views—Buffaloes and tse-tse flies both once abundant in the valley of the Limpopo and many other districts south of the Zambesi, in which both have now become extinct—Permanence of all kinds of game other than buffaloes in districts from which the tse-tse fly has disappeared—Experience of Mr. Percy Reid—Sudden increase of tse-tse flies between Leshuma and Kazungula during 1888—Disappearance of the tse-tse fly from the country to the north of Lake N'gami after the extermination of the buffalo—History of the country between the Gwai and Daka rivers—And of the country between the Chobi and the Zambesi—Climatic and other conditions necessary to the existence of the tse-tse fly—Never found at a high altitude above the sea—Nor on open plains or in large reed beds—"Fly" areas usually but not always well defined—Tse-tse flies most numerous in hot weather—Bite of the tse-tse fly fatal to all domestic animals, except native goats and perhaps pigs—Donkeys more resistant to tse-tse fly poison than horses or cattle—Tse-tse flies active on warm nights—Effect of tse-tse fly bites on human beings

Pages [149]-[177]

CHAPTER X

NOTES ON THE BLACK OR PREHENSILE-LIPPED RHINOCEROS

Character of the black rhinoceros—Its practical extermination in South Africa at a very trifling cost to human life—No case known to author of a Boer hunter having been killed by a black rhinoceros—Accidents to English hunters—Harris's opinion of and experiences with the black rhinoceros—Seemingly unnecessary slaughter of these animals—Large numbers shot by Oswell and Vardon—Divergence of opinion concerning disposition of the two so-called different species of black rhinoceroses—Experiences of Gordon Cumming, Andersson, and Baldwin with these animals—Victims of the ferocity of the black rhinoceros extraordinarily few in South Africa—The author's experiences with these animals—Sudden rise in the value of short rhinoceros horns—Its fatal effect—Dull sight of the black rhinoceros—Keen scent—Inquisitiveness—Blind rush of the black rhinoceros when wounded—An advancing rhinoceros shot in the head—Author chased by black rhinoceroses when on horseback—Curious experience near Thamma-Setjie—Black rhinoceroses charging through caravans—Coming to camp fires at night—Author's doubts as to the extreme ferocity of black rhinoceroses in general—Testimony of experienced hunters as to the character of the black rhinoceros in the countries north of the Zambesi—Captain Stigand severely injured by one of these animals—Experiences of Mr. Vaughan Kirby—Extraordinary number of black rhinoceroses in East Africa—Experiences of A. H. Neumann and F. J. Jackson with these animals—Views of Sir James Hayes-Sadler—Great numbers of rhinoceroses lately shot in East Africa without loss of life to hunters—Superiority of modern weapons—President Roosevelt's letter—Mr. Fleischmann's remarkable account of a combat between a rhinoceros and a crocodile—Possible explanation of seeming helplessness of the rhinoceros

Pages [178]-[204]

CHAPTER XI

NOTES ON THE GIRAFFE

Appearance of the giraffe—Not a vanishing species—Immense range—Habitat—Native mounted hunters—Destruction of giraffes and other game by Europeans—Necessity of restraining native hunters—Discussion as to the possibility of the giraffe existing for long periods without drinking—Water-conserving tubers—Wild water-melons—Habits of elephants after much persecution—Possible explanation of the belief that giraffes can dispense with water—Giraffes seen in the act of drinking—Giraffes absolutely voiceless—Partial to open, park-like country—Difficult to approach on foot—Giraffes very keen-scented—Hunting giraffes with Bushmen trackers—Exhilarating sport—Pace of the giraffe—The easiest way to kill giraffes—Driving wounded giraffes to camp—Two curious experiences with giraffes—"Stink bulls"—Excellence of the meat of a fat giraffe cow—Height of giraffes—Giraffes only occasionally killed by lions—Young giraffe attacked by leopards

Pages [205]-[221]

CHAPTER XII

A JOURNEY TO AMATONGALAND IN SEARCH OF INYALA

The inyala, a rare and beautiful animal—Seldom shot by Englishmen—Account of, by Mr. Baldwin—Further observations of, by the Hon. W. H. Drummond—Inyala-shooting and fever almost synonymous—Distribution of the inyala—Curious antelope shot by Captain Faulkner—Start on journey in search of inyalas—Reach Delagoa Bay—Meet Mr. Wissels—Voyage to the Maputa river—Depredations of locusts—Elephants still found in the Matuta district—A quick run up the river—Reach Bella Vista—Talk with Portuguese officer—Hippopotamuses seen—Change of weather—Longman engages four lady porters—Start for Mr. Wissels's station—Sleep at Amatonga kraal—Description of people—Cross the Maputa river—Reedbuck shot—Rainy weather—Reach Mr. Wissels's station

Pages [222]-[238]

CHAPTER XIII

A JOURNEY TO AMATONGALAND (concluded)

Receive information concerning the haunts of the inyala—Heavy thunderstorm—Start for Gugawi's kraal—Cross the Usutu river—Reach Gugawi's—Go out hunting—Crested guinea-fowl seen—Two inyalas shot—Angas's description of the inyala antelope—Inyala skins prepared for mounting—Now safe in Natural History Museum—A third inyala shot—One missed—Move farther up the Usutu river—Country denuded of game—Bushbucks scarce—Hippopotamuses in river—Heavy thunderstorm—Two more male inyalas shot—Start on return journey to Delagoa Bay—Tedious journey—Intense heat—End of trip—Slight attacks of fever

Pages [239]-[253]

CHAPTER XIV

NOTES ON THE GEMSBUCK

Number of African antelopes—The eland—Roan and sable antelopes—The greater koodoo—Other antelopes—The gemsbuck—Limited range—Habitat—Keen sight—Speed and endurance—Chase after four gemsbucks—Two shot—Sight of vultures—Oxen frightened—Horse wounded by lioness—Gemsbuck bull shot—Visit from natives—Gemsbuck and zebras—Gemsbucks ridden to a standstill—Fine specimens shot—Length of horns—Character of the gemsbuck—Probably unaffected by the rinderpest—Likely to survive for long time

Pages [254]-[269]

CHAPTER XV

SOME CURIOUS HUNTING EXPERIENCES

Contrast between Rhodesia to-day and long ago—The old days the best—White rhinoceroses and elephants drinking—A night on the Sikumi river—Abundance of big game—A white rhinoceros visits my camp—My queerest experience—Meet with two black rhinoceroses—A near approach—Rhinoceros knocked down—Apparently dead—Commence to cut it up—Rhinoceros regains consciousness—Gets on its legs—And runs off—Another curious experience—Buffaloes and tse-tse flies—Meeting with lioness—Hammer of rifle lost—Bushmen sent in search of it—Lions met with—Lion and lioness stand close to me—The chance of a lifetime—Rifle misses fire—Lions run off—Lion again seen—Rifle useless—Throw it at the lion—The irony of fate

Pages [270]-[282]

CHAPTER XVI

FURTHER CURIOUS HUNTING EXPERIENCES

Travelling through the wilderness—Find deep pool of water—Meet with two tsessebe antelopes—Shoot them both—Cover one of them with dry grass to keep off vultures—Ride back to waggon—Return to pool of water—Find tsessebe antelope gone—Never recovered—Journey to Bamangwato—Gemsbuck seen—Stalk spoilt—Long, stern chase—Gemsbuck wounded—Lost through glare of setting sun—Wildebeest seen—Return to waggon—Arrival of Count von Schweinitz—Lost gemsbuck found—Two hartebeests shot

Pages [283]-[292]

CHAPTER XVII

INCIDENTS OF A JOURNEY THROUGH THE NORTHERN KALAHARI

Southern Rhodesia—Country farther west still a primeval wilderness—Seldom traversed by white men—Scarcity of water—Remarkable rain-storm—Porcupine flooded out—Every hollow filled with water—All game in good condition—Many varieties encountered—Large herd of elephants—Four large bulls—Wariness of elephants—Lions roaring near camp—Search for them on the following morning—Large male seen and chased into thick bush—Successful encounter with a second male

Pages [293]-[301]

CHAPTER XVIII

THE LAST OF SOUTH AFRICA'S GAME HAUNTS

Decrease of game in South Africa—Journey from Mashunaland to the East African coast—Find country full of game—Elephants—Great herds of buffaloes—Five old bulls—Bushbucks—Other antelopes and zebras—Curiosity of the latter animals—Wart-hogs, bush-pigs, and hippopotamuses—Numbers of carnivorous animals—Three lions seen—Fine male wounded, and subsequently killed

Pages [302]-[311]

CHAPTER XIX

HOW I SPENT CHRISTMAS DAY 1879

Travelling through the desert—Large number of bullocks—Long distances between permanent waters—Heavy sand—Start for Mahakabi—Intense heat—Sufferings of the poor oxen—No water at Mahakabi—Search for water with Bushmen guides—Another disappointment—Ride all night—Reach the Luali river—Bullocks lost—Dick's account of the catastrophe—Fear the worst—Ride to Shoshong for assistance—Return to Klabala—Meet wagons

Pages [312]-[327]

CHAPTER XX

NOTES ON THE MASARWA: THE BUSHMEN OF THE INTERIOR OF SOUTH AFRICA

First Bushmen seen by author in 1872—Armed with bows and arrows—Large areas of country uninhabited except by Bushmen—The Masarwa—Origin of the word "Vaalpens"—Dwarf race mentioned by Professor Keane—Notes on the language of the Bushmen north of the Orange river—Apparently very similar to that spoken by the Koranas—The author's faithful Korana servant—The Nero family—Physical dissimilarity between the Koranas and the Masarwa—Stature of Bushmen met with north of the Orange river—Probably a pure race—The Bakalahari—Livingstone's account of them—Khama's kindness to them—Habits and mode of life of the Masarwa—Their weapons—Bows and poisoned arrows—Food of the Bushmen—Bush children tracking tortoises—Terrible privations sometimes endured by Bushmen—Provision against famine—A giraffe hunt—Rotten ostrich egg found by Bushmen and eaten—Fundamental difference of nature between Bushmen and civilised races not great—Personal experiences with Bushmen—Their marvellous endurance—Skill as hunters and trackers—Incident with lion—Family affection amongst Bushmen—Not unworthy members of the human race

Pages [328]-[348]

INDEX

[349]

ILLUSTRATIONS

CHAPTER I

NOTES ON THE QUESTIONS OF PROTECTIVE COLORATION, RECOGNITION MARKS, AND THE INFLUENCE OF ENVIRONMENT ON LIVING ORGANISMS

Harmony of colour in nature—Theory of protective coloration—Sexual selection—Conspicuous colours not harmful—The influence of environment—The leucoryx—The Barbary sheep—The Sardinian moufflon—African butterflies—Coloration of the musk ox and caribou—Arctic hares and foxes—Coloration of mammals in the Yukon Territory—The chamois in winter—Examples of conspicuous coloration in African mammals—Colour not always protective—Carnivorous animals usually hunt by scent—Wild dogs and wolves—Wild dog and sable antelope—Sense of smell in herbivorous animals—Sight of antelopes—Experience with waterbuck—Dull sight of caribou—Demeanour of wild animals when alarmed—Small antelopes—Lions—Large antelopes—Difficulty of seeing wild animals sometimes exaggerated—Powers of sight of Bushmen—Colour not protective against animals which hunt by night and by scent—Animals in motion easy to see—Restlessness of wild animals—Lions attacking bullocks—Zebras the principal prey of lions since the disappearance of buffaloes—Appearance of zebras—Undoubtedly conspicuous animals in open country—Zebras by moonlight—Strong smell of zebras—Conspicuous antelopes in East Africa—Effect of the juxtaposition of black and white—Bold coloration of the sable antelope.

Although there are certain striking exceptions to the general rule, yet, broadly speaking, it cannot be gainsaid that living organisms are usually coloured in such a way as to make them difficult of detection by the human eye amongst their natural surroundings. Every collecting entomologist knows how closely certain species of butterflies when resting with closed wings in shady forests resemble dead leaves, or moths the bark of trees. Birds too, especially those which nest on the ground, often harmonise with their surroundings in a most marvellous way.

In the open treeless regions within the Arctic Circle, as well as on bare mountain ranges, nearly all the resident species of animals and birds turn white in winter, when their whole visible world is covered with an unbroken mantle of pure white snow, and become brown or grey during the short period of summer.

In treeless deserts again within the tropics, where the rainfall is very scanty and the climate excessively hot and dry, with intense sunlight throughout the year, all resident living organisms, mammals, birds, reptiles, and insects, are found to be of a dull coloration which harmonises in the most wonderful way with the sandy or stony soil on which they live. It is also very often the case that animals which live in forests where the foliage is not too dense to allow the sun to penetrate are spotted or striped, whilst those which live in really thick jungle or amongst deep gloomy ravines are of a uniform dark coloration.

Now a most interesting question arises as to the true causes which have brought about the extraordinary variations of colour to be seen in living organisms inhabiting different parts of the world.

It is, I believe, the general opinion of modern naturalists that, putting aside cases where brilliant colours may have been produced amongst birds and insects by the action of the law of sexual selection, the coloration of all living organisms is protective, "serving," as that distinguished naturalist Mr. Alfred Russel Wallace puts it, when discussing the subject of the coloration of mammals, "to conceal herbivorous species from their enemies, and enabling carnivorous animals to approach their prey unperceived."

Many very striking facts can be adduced in support of this theory, and no doubt it is of advantage to most species of mammals, birds, reptiles, and insects to harmonise in colour with their surroundings; but there are many instances in nature, especially amongst birds and insects, where a very striking and conspicuous coloration does not appear to have been prejudicial to the life of a species.

The highly decorative but very conspicuously coloured plumage to be seen in the males of many species of birds, especially during the breeding season, was considered by the immortal Darwin to be due to the influence of sexual selection, and whatever may be urged against the correctness of this theory, it is supported by a long array of indisputable facts.

Great, however, as is the divergence between the plumage of the males and females in many species of birds, not only during the breeding season, but in a great number of cases at all times of year, and however gaudy and conspicuous the coloration of the former may be compared with that of the latter, such conspicuous coloration never appears to be prejudicial to the life of a species, though in some cases the brighter coloured male assists the female in incubation, and it would thus appear that in all such cases the sombre coloured plumage of the female was not absolutely necessary for purposes of protection against enemies.

I therefore think that if it is admitted that bright and conspicuous colours have been evolved in living organisms through the action of the law of sexual selection, without detriment to the life of the species in which such conspicuous colours are shown, it must be conceded that a coloration harmonising with its surroundings is not a necessity of existence in all cases to all species of mammals, birds, reptiles, and insects, and that it is therefore quite possible that where living organisms agree very closely in colour with their surroundings, such harmonious coloration may have been produced by some other agency than the need for protection by colour, and I would suggest that in addition to the influence exerted in the evolution of colour in living organisms by the action of sexual selection, and the necessity for protection against enemies, a third factor has also been at work, which I will call the influence of environment.

It is worthy of remark, I think, that in hot, dry deserts, where the climatic conditions are stable, and where the general colour of the landscape is therefore very much the same all the year round, all the resident species of mammals, birds, reptiles, and insects are what is called protectively coloured, that is to say, they are all of a dull brown or greyish coloration,[1] which harmonises beautifully with their parched, dull-coloured environment. In the leucoryx, the Saharan representative of the gemsbuck of South-Western Africa, all the black markings which are so conspicuous in the latter animal have disappeared or become pale brown, whilst the general colour of the body has been bleached to a dirty white. Now, no one can persuade me that if the leucoryx were coloured exactly like its near relative the gemsbuck, it would suffer one iota more, in the open country in which it lives, from the attacks of carnivorous animals than it does at present, and I therefore believe that the faded colour of the leucoryx, as compared with that of the gemsbuck or the beisa antelope, has not been brought about in order to serve as a protection against enemies, but is directly due to the influence of its desert environment, and constant exposure to strong sunlight on treeless plains. Again, from the point of view of a carnivorous animal hunting for food by daylight and by sight, no two countries could be more alike than the open karoos of the Cape Colony and the plains in the neighbourhood of Lakes Nakuru and Elmenteita in British East Africa, where the grass is always kept very short by the large herds of game, as well as by the cattle, sheep, and goats belonging to the Masai, which pasture there. Before the advent of Europeans, the carnivorous animals inhabiting the Cape Colony were exactly the same as those found to-day in East Africa, viz. lions, leopards, chetahs, wild dogs, and hyænas. In both districts lions were once numerous, and in both zebras formed the principal food of these carnivora. But whereas Equus granti, the form of zebra found on the plains near Lake Nakuru, is the most brilliantly coloured representative of the genus to which it belongs, with jet black stripes on a pure white ground, the now extinct form of zebra—Equus quagga—which once abounded on the plains of the Cape Colony, was of a dull grey brown in ground colour, with darker brown stripes on the head, neck, and fore-part of the body alone. Now, these two races of zebras, both living on bare, open plains, could not both have been coloured in the best possible way to escape being seen by the lions which constantly preyed upon them. If, as has been contended, the juxtaposition of the black and white stripes in Grant's zebras renders these animals not only inconspicuous, but almost invisible under strong sunlight on an open plain, and is, in fact, the supreme triumph of protective coloration in large mammals, why had the quaggas of the Cape Colony become dull brown, for they also lived on open plains in strong sunlight, and needed protection from the lions every bit as much as their congeners of East Africa? Moreover, I think all naturalists and embryologists are agreed that Equus quagga was the descendant of boldly striped ancestors.

[1] The cock ostrich is, I think, the only exception to this rule, and in the case of this remarkable bird the influence of sexual selection has probably been more potent than that of a dull-coloured, monotonous environment.

To my mind the loss of stripes in the quagga was entirely due to the environment in which this species had lived for long ages; for on the karoos of the Cape Colony everything is of one dull brown colour, whether on hill or plain, and no shade is to be found anywhere, for the whole country is without trees. The air, too, is intensely hot and dry, and the rainfall scanty. In these semi-deserts of South-Western Africa, not only did the quaggas lose their black stripes, but the elands also lost the white stripes of their immediate ancestors, whilst the blesboks had already lost much of the white to be seen in the body colouring of the bonteboks, from which they are descended, and had become of a much duller colour generally. In East Africa, however, the plains are surrounded by well-wooded hills, which give some colour to the landscape, whilst the rainfall every year is heavy. If it is not the influence of their several environments which has brought about the differences between the well-striped elands and zebras of East Africa and their dull-coloured relatives that once lived in the karoos of the Cape Colony, the theory of protective coloration must be equally at fault, for in spite of the fact that in both countries both races of these animals have been hunted by lions from time immemorial on open plains, and under precisely similar conditions, they developed very different schemes of coloration.

The Barbary sheep, again, which inhabits the dry hills bordering the deserts of Northern Africa, where the vegetation is parched and scanty at all seasons of the year, and the rocks of a red brown colour, is itself of a uniform reddish brown which harmonises exactly with its surroundings, and makes it very difficult to detect when lying at rest amongst rocks. This perfect harmony of coloration with its surroundings in the Barbary sheep may have been brought about by the need of protection from enemies, but seems to me far more likely to have been caused by the influence of the colour of its environment, for its four-footed foes hunt by scent and by night far more than by sight during the daytime.

The male moufflon of Sardinia, which lives in a temperate climate where the colours of its surroundings are much brighter and more diversified than is the case in the habitat of the Barbary sheep, is a much more conspicuously coloured animal than the latter, or than the females of its own kind. As the females and young of the Sardinian moufflon, which are of a uniform brown colour, are more difficult to see than the males in their somewhat conspicuous autumn and winter coats, the latter cannot be said to be protectively coloured. Either through the influence of sexual selection or that of an environment the general colour of which varies very greatly at different seasons of the year, the male of the Sardinian moufflon becomes during autumn and winter conspicuously coloured compared with the female, without detriment, however, to the well-being of the species.

During my long sojourn in the interior of South Africa, I made large collections of butterflies. There was one species (Precis artaxia, Hewits) which always puzzled me. This handsome insect is only found in shady forests, is seldom seen flying until disturbed, and always sits on the ground amongst dead leaves. Though handsomely coloured on the upper side, when its wings are closed it closely resembles a dead leaf. It has a little tail on the lower wing which looks exactly like the stalk of a leaf, and from this tail a dark brown line runs through both wings (which on the under sides are light brown) to the apex of the upper wing. One would naturally be inclined to look upon this wonderful resemblance to a dead leaf in a butterfly sitting with closed wings on the ground amongst real dead leaves as a remarkable instance of protective form and coloration. And of course it may be that this is the correct explanation. But what enemy is this butterfly protected against? Upon hundreds of different occasions I have ridden and walked through the forests where Precis artaxia was numerous, and I have caught and preserved many specimens of these butterflies, but never once did I see a bird attempting to catch one of them. Indeed, birds of all kinds were scarce in the forests where these insects were to be found. I now think that the form and colour of the under wings of Precis artaxia have more probably been produced by the influence of its environment than by the need for protection.

During the rainy season in South Africa, the open glades in the forests bordering the rivers are gay with multitudes of brightly coloured butterflies of many different species, and after a night's rain butterflies of various kinds may often be seen settling in masses round pools of water along waggon roads. Most of these butterflies are conspicuously coloured, though they are in perfect harmony with the sunlit flowers which spring up at the time of year when they appear. I cannot, however, believe that the need for protection against birds or other enemies has had anything whatever to do with the determination of their various colours, as in all my experience (and I have been all my life a close observer of nature) I have never once seen a bird feeding upon butterflies in Africa.

The coloration of certain animals in the Arctic and sub-Arctic Regions is somewhat remarkable, as at certain seasons it is conspicuously out of harmony with its surroundings, and cannot therefore be protective. The musk ox retains its dark brown coat the whole year round, although it lives almost constantly amidst a snowy environment. Mr. Wallace tells us that the reason why the musk ox does not turn white is because it has no enemies to fear, and therefore has no need of a protective coloration. He says: "Then we have that thoroughly Arctic animal the musk sheep, which is brown and conspicuous; but this animal is gregarious, and its safety depends on its association in small herds. It is therefore of more importance for it to be able to recognise its kind at a distance than to be concealed from its enemies, against which it can well protect itself so long as it keeps together in a compact body." As, however, according to the experience of Arctic travellers, large numbers of young musk oxen are annually killed by wolves, this explanation of a case in which an animal is manifestly not protectively coloured does not seem altogether satisfactory. Mr. Wallace, it may be noted, calls special attention to the coloration of the giraffe, which he considers to be protective; yet nothing, I think, is more certain than that a far smaller percentage of giraffes are killed annually by lions in Africa than of musk oxen by wolves in Arctic America. If this is so, the musk ox has more need of protective coloration than the giraffe. The musk ox is, I think, the only one amongst the few truly Arctic mammals which does not turn white during the winter months, for, unlike the barren ground caribou, it does not migrate southwards in the autumn to the dark spruce forests, which change of habitat no doubt has had an influence on the colour of the latter animals; since Peary's caribou, the most northerly form of the genus, whose habitat lies far within the Arctic Circle, where trees of any kind are non-existent, is almost absolutely white in colour. In spite, however, of the fact that the caribou inhabiting Ellesmere Land and the adjacent land masses are white, and therefore harmonise well in colour with the snowy wastes amongst which they live, they form the principal food of the white wolves inhabiting the same regions, which hunt them by scent and run them down just as easily as the grey and black wolves of Alaska capture the dark-coloured and very conspicuous caribou which frequent the mountain ranges of that country. It appears to me that the colour of a caribou's coat, whether it be white, black, or brown, cannot afford it any protection against wolves, which probably possess as keen a sense of scent as any animals in the world, and must surely hunt entirely by scent during the long dark months of the Arctic winter. If this is so, then the great diversity in the coloration of the various species of caribou inhabiting the North American Continent must be due to some other cause than the necessity for protection against wolves, practically their only four-footed enemies.

Speaking of other Arctic animals, Mr. Wallace believes that the Arctic fox of necessity turns white in winter in order to enable it to capture the white Arctic hares upon which it chiefly lives. Very little, however, is known as to the life-history of these two animals. But if the Arctic foxes hunt by scent, as they almost certainly do, during the constant darkness of the long Arctic winter, and the hares burrow beneath the snow, and are caught as a rule when completely hidden from sight below its surface, I think it is arguable that the influence of environment has been at least as potent a factor in bringing about the white coloration of these animals in winter as the necessity for protective coloration. At any rate, in Alaska and the Yukon Territory of Canada, where the country is covered with snow for more than half the year, and where the hares are white throughout the long winter, the foxes are red, black, or a mixture of these two colours, all the year round, and the lynxes grey; yet these two species of carnivorous animals depend almost entirely on the hares for their food supply. It is somewhat remarkable that in the sub-Arctic forests of Alaska and the Yukon Territory, where the cold is intense and the ground covered with snow for so many months of every year, only the hares and the stoats amongst mammals turn white in winter. But in these countries the land is covered for the most part with dark spruce forests, the influence of which—if there is anything in the influence of environment—may have been greater in determining the coloration of the mammals of this district than that of the snow-covered ground.

During winter in the Yukon Territory, moose turn very dark in colour on the under parts of the body, and at this season of the year leave the thick forests and live in the comparatively open valleys amongst willow and birch scrub, where they are said to stand out like haystacks amidst their snowy surroundings. The local race of caribou (Rangifer osborni), which live all the year round on the treeless mountain plateaus, are very dark in colour (with the exception of their necks), and, as I myself can testify, stand out very plainly when the open ground they frequent is covered with snow. Of the various races of wild sheep inhabiting the mountains of Alaska, the Yukon Territory, and Northern British Columbia, some are white all the year round, and therefore very conspicuous in summer when there is no snow on the ground, though difficult to detect in the winter; some are grey, with white heads, necks, and rumps; whilst others are nearly black, and therefore very conspicuous in winter. Of the predatory animals the large timber wolves are, as a rule, pale greyish brown with black hairs on their backs and shoulders, but a considerable number are quite black; the foxes are either red or black, or of the intermediate coloration known as "cross"; whilst the wolverines, martens, and minks are rich dark brown, and the lynxes neutral grey. The stoat or ermine is the only carnivorous animal which turns white in winter in these countries.

It would thus appear that in the sub-Arctic Regions of North America the coloration of mammals does not obviously serve the purpose of concealing the herbivorous species from their enemies, or of enabling carnivorous animals to approach their prey unperceived. To come nearer home, we find that whereas in the Alpine regions of Europe the mountain hare turns white in winter, the chamois living in the same snow-covered ground becomes deep black. It is true that in winter chamois often leave the open mountains and live amongst the higher forests, where it may be said that their dark colour harmonises well with the dark foliage of the spruce trees; but I have hunted chamois in December in the mountains of Transylvania, when they were in full winter coat, and I certainly found that their dark coloration often made them conspicuous.

Turning to Africa, we have many instances of what seen in the open and at short range cannot possibly be called anything but conspicuous coloration, such as the jet black and pure white striping of the East African form of Burchell's zebra; the deep glossy black body and neck, with snow-white belly and parti-coloured face, of the sable antelope; the black and white face of the gemsbuck; the pure white face and rump of the bontebok, combined with the beautiful dark brown neck and sides and lilac tinted back; or the juxtaposition of the black and white in Thomson's gazelle—only to mention a few of the most noteworthy examples.

To me it seems that the influence of environment might very well be deemed sufficient of itself to cause all animals that have lived for long ages in treeless deserts under constant strong sunlight to assume the dull brown coloration which they undoubtedly possess; whilst Arctic conditions might be expected to cause the whitening of an animal's hair in the winter, or the play of the sun's light through the leaves and branches of trees and bushes to be responsible for a spotted or striped coat. In the case of a combination of black and white—the two most conspicuous colours in nature—such as may be seen in the adult cock ostrich or male sable antelope, why should it not be supposed that the law of sexual selection has come into play, as it probably has done in the production of the lion's mane and the exaggerated size of the horns in the male koodoo.

Having spent many years of my life in the constant pursuit of African game, I have certainly been afforded opportunities such as have been enjoyed by but few civilised men of becoming intimately acquainted with the habits and life-history of many species of animals living in that continent, and all that I have learnt during my long experience as a hunter compels me to doubt the correctness of the now very generally accepted theories that all the wonderfully diversified colours of mammals—the stripes of the zebra, the blotched coat of the giraffe, the spots of the bushbuck, the white face and rump of the bontebok, to mention only a few—have been evolved either as a means of protection from enemies or for the purpose of mutual recognition by animals of the same species in times of sudden alarm. Sexual selection and the influence of environment must, I think, have been equally potent factors in the evolution of colours in mammals, birds, reptiles, and insects.

In all recent articles which I have read by well-known naturalists on these subjects, it appears to be assumed that both carnivorous and herbivorous animals trust entirely to their sense of sight, the former to find their prey, and the latter to detect and avoid the approach of their enemies. Yet nothing is more certain than that all carnivorous animals hunt almost entirely by scent, until they have closely approached their quarry, and usually by night, when all the animals on which they prey must look very much alike as far as colour is concerned.

The wild dogs of Africa and the wolves of northern latitudes are not so completely nocturnal, it is true, as the large Felidae, but the former I know, and the latter I have every reason to believe, hunt, as a rule, by night and only occasionally in the daytime. In both these animals the sense of smell is enormously developed, and must be of far greater use to them in procuring food than the sense of sight, however acute that may be. In all my wanderings I have only seen African wild dogs chasing game in the daytime on four occasions. I once saw a single wild dog chasing a sable antelope in the daytime. This wild dog—which was, however, then too far away to enable me to see what it was—first ran past the sable antelope and behind it from where I was watching. It must then have been running on the trail, with its nose on the ground, and must have passed quite close to the animal it was pursuing without seeing it. Its nose, however, kept it on the antelope's tracks and soon brought it to close quarters, and then of course it continued the chase by sight. Now if this is the usual proceeding of African wild dogs, and I am convinced that it is, the value of assimilative coloration to animals on which the wild dog preys cannot be very great.

But not only do all carnivorous animals hunt by scent, and rely far more upon their olfactory organs than upon their keenness of sight to procure food, but, as all practical hunters very well know, the sense of smell is also very highly developed in all, or at any rate in most, of the animals on which the carnivora prey, and personally I am persuaded that all browsing and grazing animals in Africa trust as much to their noses as to their eyes both to avoid danger and to find members of their own species. The eyes of antelopes are quick to detect a moving object, but they are by no means quick to notice any unusual colour in a stationary object. I will relate an anecdote illustrating this point.

Early in 1883, I reached the spot on the Hanyani river in Mashunaland where I intended to establish my hunting camp for the season. Whilst my Kafirs were chopping down trees to build the cattle enclosures, I climbed to the top of the ridge at the foot of which I was having my camp made.

It was late in the afternoon, and I was sitting on a rock looking over the open country to the south, when I heard a slight noise, and turning my eyes saw a fine male waterbuck coming towards me up the ridge. I sat perfectly still, and it presently walked slowly past within three yards of me and then went on along the ridge, into the forest beyond. As it passed me I noticed its shining wet nose, and the way in which its nostrils kept constantly opening and shutting at every step. It was evidently listening to the noise that my Kafirs were making chopping down small trees at the foot of the ridge, but as it could not get their wind did not take alarm.

Of course, if I had made the very slightest movement, this waterbuck would have seen me instantly; but had it possessed much sense of colour, the contrast between the red brown of my sunburnt arms and face and the light-coloured shirt I was wearing would have attracted its attention, as I was sitting on a stone, on the top of a ridge which was quite free from trees or bush. I have never had any other African antelopes pass so close to me as this without seeing me, but many have fed slowly past me, as I sat watching them, with a tree or a bush behind me but nothing between myself and them, at distances of from 20 to 50 yards.

Both in Newfoundland and in the Yukon Territory of Canada, I have had caribou walk almost over me when sitting in front of them on their line of march on ground devoid of any cover whatever. In such cases, of course, the wind was blowing from these animals towards where I was sitting, and I remained absolutely motionless.

As a rule, when wild animals notice something suspicious approaching, say a man on horseback, and cannot get the scent of it, they run off before it gets near them or circle round to try and get the wind of it. But the smaller African antelopes, steinbucks, duikers, oribis, and reedbucks will occasionally, while keeping their eyes fixed on the unfamiliar object, crouch slowly down, and then, with their necks stretched along the ground, lie watching. I have ridden past a few oribis, steinbucks, and reedbucks within a few yards, as they lay absolutely motionless on the ground watching me. To pull in one's horse with the intention of shooting such a crouching antelope was the instant signal for it to jump up and bound away. Lions too, when they see a human being and imagine that they themselves have not been observed, will often lie flat on the ground watching, and will not move until very closely approached. I imagine that these carnivora secure nearly all their prey by approaching herds of game below the wind, and when they have got pretty near lying flat on the ground, perfectly motionless except for the twitching of the end of their tails, which they never seem able to control, and then waiting till one or other of the unsuspecting animals feeds close up to them, when they rush upon and seize it before it has time to turn. If a lion, however, fails to make good his hold with one of his fore-paws over the muzzle of a buffalo or one of the heavier antelopes, and cannot fix his teeth in their throats or necks, they often manage to throw him off and escape.

It is perhaps worthy of remark that I have never known a case of one of the larger antelopes trying to escape observation by lying down. Gemsbucks, roan and sable antelopes, elands, koodoos, hartebeests, indeed all the large African antelopes, directly they see anything suspicious, face towards it, and stand looking at it, holding their heads high, and not in any way shielding their bodies and only exposing their faces to view, which, when marked with black and white, as in the case of the gemsbuck and roan antelope, are supposed, though quite erroneously, to render these animals invisible.

I am inclined to think, but it is only my personal opinion, that the difficulty of seeing wild animals in their natural surroundings has been greatly exaggerated by travellers who were not hunters, and whose eyesight therefore, although of normal strength, had not been trained by practice to see animals quickly in every kind of environment.

I am quite sure that to a South-African Bushman there is no such thing as protective coloration in nature. If an animal is behind a rock or a thick bush, he of course cannot see it, but his eyes are so well trained, he knows so exactly the appearance of every animal to be met with in the country in which he and his ancestors have spent their lives as hunters for countless ages, that he will not miss seeing any living thing that comes within his range of vision no matter what its surroundings may be. Bantu Kafirs are often called savages, and their quickness of sight extolled; but Kafirs are not real savages, and though there are good hunters amongst them, such men will form but a small percentage of any one tribe. To realise to what a pitch of perfection the human eyesight can be trained, not in seeing immense distances but in picking up an animal within a moderate range immediately it is physically possible to see it, it is necessary to hunt with real savages like the Masarwa Bushmen of South-Western Africa, who depend on their eyesight for a living.

Now, if carnivorous animals had throughout the ages depended on their eyesight for their daily food as the Bushmen have done, which is what naturalists who believe in the value of protective coloration to large mammals must imagine to be the case, surely their eyesight would have become so perfected that no colour or combination of colours could have concealed any of the animals on which they habitually preyed from their view. As a matter of fact, however, carnivorous animals hunt as a rule by scent and not by sight, and usually at night when herbivorous animals are moving about feeding or going to drink. At such a time it appears to me that the value of a coloration that assimilated perfectly with an animal's natural surroundings during the daytime would be very small as a protection from the attacks of carnivora which hunted by night and by scent.

Reverting again to the question of quickness of eyesight, I will say that, although a Boer or an English hunter can never hope to become as keen-sighted as a Bushman, his eyes will nevertheless improve so much in power after a few years spent in the constant pursuit of game, that the difficulty of distinguishing wild animals amongst their native haunts will be very much less than it was when he first commenced to hunt, or than it must always be to a traveller or sportsman who has not had a long experience of hunting.

However difficult an animal may be to see as long as it is lying down or standing motionless, as soon as it moves it becomes very apparent to the human eye; and, as I have had ample experience that any movement made by a man is very quickly noticed by a lion, leopard, hyæna, or wild dog, I am quite sure that all these carnivora, if lying watching for prey by daylight, would at once see any animal moving about feeding anywhere near them; and all herbivorous animals move about and feed early in the morning and late in the evening, the very times when carnivorous animals would be most likely to be looking for game by daylight.

During the heat of the day carnivorous animals are very seldom seen, as at that time they sleep, and most herbivorous animals do the same. But even when resting, wild animals are seldom motionless. Elephants and rhinoceroses are constantly moving their ears, whilst giraffes, elands, buffaloes, zebras, and other animals seldom stand for many seconds together without swishing their tails. All these movements at once attract the attention of the trained human eye, and I am very sure would be equally apparent to the sight of a lion or a leopard, were these animals to hunt by sight and during the daytime. But, speaking generally, they do not do so, though doubtless should antelopes or other animals unconsciously feed close up to where a lion happened to be lying resting and waiting for night before commencing active hunting, he would very likely make a rush and try and seize one of them if he could. Upon two occasions I have had my bullocks attacked in the middle of the day, once by a single lioness, and on the other occasion by a party of four lions, two lions and two lionesses. But how many old hunters have seen lions actually hunting in the full light of day? Personally, in all the long years I was hunting big game in Africa—years during which I must have walked or ridden many thousands of miles through country full of game, and where lions were often numerous—I only once saw one of these animals hunting by daylight. This lion was pursuing four koodoo cows on a cool cloudy winter's morning.

As a rule, lions do not commence to hunt before darkness has set in. They then seek their prey by scent, either smelling the animals directly or following their tracks. They understand as well as the most experienced human hunter the art of approaching game below the wind, when hunting singly; but when there are several lions hunting together, I believe that some of them will sometimes creep close up to a herd of game below the wind, whilst one or more of their number go round to the other side. The buffaloes, zebras, or antelopes at once get the scent of these latter, and run off right on to the lions lying waiting below the wind, which then get a good chance to seize and pull down one of the frightened animals. As lions have played this game with my cattle upon several occasions, I presume that they often act in the same way with wild animals.

No matter how dark the night may be, a lion has no difficulty in seizing an ox, a horse, or a donkey exactly in the right way, and I have no doubt that he does the same in the case of all the different kinds of game upon which he preys. Now that the buffaloes have been almost exterminated by the rinderpest in most parts of Africa, the zebra undoubtedly forms the favourite food of the lion. For every zebra that is killed by daylight probably at least a hundred are killed during the night, when, except by moonlight, they would appear to a lion very much the same, as far as coloration goes, as a black ox, a dark grey wildebeest, or a red hartebeest, all of which animals look black by night if they are near enough to be seen at all.

I have had innumerable opportunities of looking at wild zebras, and when met with on open ground they certainly have always appeared to me to be very conspicuous animals, except just at dawn and late in the evening, when they are not so easy to see as animals of some uniform dark colour, such as hartebeests.

In Southern Africa, between the Limpopo and the Zambesi rivers, Burchell's zebras used to be very plentiful in all the uninhabited parts of the country, and although they were often met with feeding or resting in districts covered with open forest or scattered bush, I found them always very partial to open ground, where they were as plainly visible as a troop of horses. In East Africa the local race of Burchell's zebra is remarkable for the whiteness of the ground colour of the body and the intense blackness of the superimposed stripes. These beautiful animals congregate in large herds on the bare open plains traversed by the Uganda Railway, and probably form the chief food of the lions living in that district.

When in East Africa a few years ago, I took special note of the appearance of zebras at different distances on the open plains between Lakes Nakuru and Elmenteita. I found that in the bright African sunlight I could see with the naked eye the black and white striping of their coats up to a distance which I estimated at about 400 yards. Beyond that distance they looked of a uniform dark colour when the sun was behind them, and almost white when the sun was shining on them. But at whatever distance they happened to be on the open plain between myself and the horizon, their forms showed up quite as distinctly as those of a herd of cattle or horses. Never in my life have I seen the sun shining on zebras in such a way as to cause them to become invisible or even in any way inconspicuous on an open plain, and I have seen thousands upon thousands of Burchell's zebras. Should these animals be approached when standing amongst trees with the leaf on, they are not at all easy to see, and the whisking of their tails will probably be the first thing to catch one's eye; but in open ground, and that is where they are usually met with, no animals could be more conspicuous. I have seen zebras too by moonlight, but that was many years ago, and I did not then take any special note of their appearance; but my impression is that they were no more invisible than other animals, but looked whitish in colour when the moon was shining on them, and very dark when it was behind them. As, however, zebras have a very strong smell, and lions usually hunt them by scent and at night, I cannot think that their coloration, whether it be conspicuous or not, matters very much to them, though I look upon the theory that the brilliantly striped coats of these animals render them in reality inconspicuous as absolutely untenable, as it is not in accordance with fact.

When in East Africa I came to the conclusion that not only the zebras, but also the impala antelopes—which are of a much richer and darker red than in South Africa—were conspicuously coloured, and therefore very easy to see; whilst the broad black lateral band dividing the snow-white belly from the fawn-coloured side in Thomson's gazelles showed these little animals up with the most startling distinctness on the bare open plains they inhabit.

To my eyes, and in the bright sunlight of Africa, the juxtaposition of black and white markings, so often seen on the faces of African antelopes, has never seemed to produce an indistinct blur of colour except at a considerable distance. At any distance up to 300 yards the black and white face-markings of the gemsbuck, the roan, and the sable antelope always appeared to me to be distinctly visible, and they have often been the first parts of these animals to catch my eye.

It is all very well to say that a male sable antelope, in spite of its bold colouring, is often very difficult to see. That is no doubt the case, but that only means that there is no colour in nature, and no possible combination of colours, which at a certain distance, if stationary, would not be found to harmonise well with some portions of, or objects in, an African landscape. Speaking generally, however, the coloration of a sable antelope bull makes him a very conspicuous object to a trained human eye, and also, one would suppose, to that of a carnivorous animal, were it watching for prey by daylight.

CHAPTER II

FURTHER NOTES ON THE QUESTIONS OF PROTECTIVE COLORATION, RECOGNITION MARKS, AND THE INFLUENCE OF ENVIRONMENT ON LIVING ORGANISMS

Occasional resemblance of African mammals to natural objects—Hartebeests—Elephants—Giraffes—Coloration of the Somali giraffe—Giraffes not in need of a protective coloration—Koodoos and sable antelopes—Acute sense of hearing in the moose—Possible explanation of large size of ears in the African tragelaphine antelopes—Coloration of bushbucks, situtungas, and inyalas—Leopards the only enemies of the smaller bush-haunting antelopes—Recognition marks—Must render animals conspicuous to friend and foe alike—Ranges of allied species of antelopes seldom overlap—Hybridisation sometimes takes place—Wonderful coloration of the bontebok—Coloration distinctly conspicuous and therefore not protective—Recognition marks unnecessary—Coloration of the blesbok—The blesbok merely a duller coloured bontebok—Difference in the habitat of the two species—The coloration of both species may be due to the influence of their respective environments—The weak point in the theory of protective coloration when applied to large mammals—Hares and foxes in the Arctic and sub-Arctic Regions—The efficacy of colour protection at once destroyed by movement—Buffaloes and lions—General conclusions regarding the theory of protective coloration as applied to large mammals.

Certain observations have been made and theories propounded on the occasional resemblance of African mammals to natural objects, which have never seemed to me to have much significance, although they are often referred to as valuable observations by writers on natural history.

Thus it has been said that hartebeests, which are red in colour, derive protection from their enemies owing to their resemblance not only in colour but also in shape to ant-heaps, and that giraffes gain an advantage in the struggle for life owing to the fact that their long necks look like tree-trunks and their heads and horns like broken branches.

Well, hartebeests are red in colour wherever they are found all over Africa. Ant-heaps are only red when they are built of red soil. In parts of the Bechwanaland Protectorate, where the Cape hartebeest used to be common, the ant-heaps are a glaring white. In East Africa, in different portions of which territory hartebeests of three species are very numerous, all of which are bright red in colour, red ant-heaps are certainly not a conspicuous feature in all parts of the country, and there were, if my memory serves me, very few ant-heaps of any size on the plains where I met with either Coke's, Neumann's, or Jackson's hartebeests.[2] But even in those districts where the ant-heaps are red in colour, and neither very much larger nor smaller than hartebeests, they are usually of one even rounded shape, and it would only be here and there, where two had been thrown up together forming a double-humped structure, that anything resembling one of these animals could be seen. Such unusual natural objects must be anything but common, and cannot, I believe, have had any effect in determining the bodily shape of hartebeests, though, if the coloration of animals is influenced by their environment, red soil and red ant-heaps may have had their influence on the colour of the ancestral form from which all the various but nearly allied species of hartebeests have been derived.

[2] The plains along the railway line between Simba and Nairobi, the open country between Lakes Nakuru and Elmenteita, or the neighbourhood of the road between Landiani and Ravine Station.

I was once hunting in 1885 with a Boer friend (Cornelis van Rooyen) near the Umfuli river in Mashunaland. We were riding slowly along, followed by some Kafirs, and driving a donkey carrying corn for the horses in front of us, when we saw what we took to be some boulders of black rock in the open forest ahead, but some distance away, as we were crossing an open valley at the time. In this particular part of the country great boulders of black rock were a common feature in the landscape. Suddenly our donkey pricked his ears, and stretching out his nose, commenced to bray loudly. Immediately one of the black rocks, as we had thought them to be, moved, and we soon saw that what we had taken for rocks were elephants. Our donkey had smelt them before either my friend or myself or any of our Kafirs had been able to distinguish what they were. As, however, elephants are only occasionally encountered in forests through which great boulders of black rock are scattered, I do not believe that these huge quadrupeds have been moulded to the shape of rocks by the need of a protective resemblance to inanimate objects, any more than I think that the abnormal shape of certain ant-heaps has had anything to do with the production of the high wither and drooping hind-quarters of the hartebeest.

As to the theory that the long neck and the peculiarly formed head of the giraffe have been evolved in order to protect this remarkable animal against its carnivorous foes, by giving it the appearance of a dead or decayed tree, I personally consider such an idea to be so fantastic and extravagant as to be unworthy of serious consideration.

In the course of my own hunting experience, I have shot a great many giraffes to obtain a supply of food for my native followers, and under the guidance of Bushmen have followed on the tracks of many herds of these animals until I at length sighted them. In certain parts of the country frequented by giraffes in Southern Africa, large camel-thorn trees (Acacia giraffae) grow either singly or a few together amongst a wide expanse of wait-a-bit thorn scrub, which is from 6 to 12 feet high. From time to time these large trees die and decay, until nothing is left but a tall straight stem, standing up like a telegraph pole (only a good deal thicker) amongst the surrounding scrub. When, whilst following on giraffe spoor through such country, something suddenly comes in view protruding from the bush, perhaps a mile ahead, the Bushmen will stop and take a good look at it. Of course at a very great distance it is impossible for even a Bushman to distinguish between the tall straight stem of a dead tree standing up out of low bush and the neck of a solitary old bull giraffe. But if the latter, it is sure soon to move, unless it is standing watching its human enemies approaching, in which case it will not be very far away, and I have never known a Bushman to mistake a giraffe for a tree at any reasonable distance.

As regards the coloration of the species of giraffe inhabiting South and South-Western Africa, it assimilates very well with its surroundings, when amongst trees and bush; but as giraffes spend a great deal of their time passing through open stretches of country on their way from one feeding-ground to another, they are often very conspicuous animals.

With respect to the Somali giraffe (Giraffa reticulata), a photograph taken by the photographer who accompanied one of Lord Delamere's expeditions, showing some of these animals feeding amongst mimosa trees, gives the impression of a most marvellous harmonisation of colour and arrangement of marking with their surroundings. But I cannot help thinking that the facts of the case have been very much exaggerated in this photograph, which has eliminated all colours from the picture except black and white. In life, the foliage of the mimosa is very thin, and I think it probable that the rich dark chestnut blotches divided by white lines of the Somali giraffe would show through it at least as distinctly as would the colours of the southern giraffe in a like position. The Somali giraffe cannot constantly live amongst mimosa trees, as these only grow in valleys near streams or dried-up watercourses, and only cover a small proportion of any country I have yet seen either in South or East Africa.

I must say that I rather distrust the camera as a true interpreter of nature, as I have seen so many photographs of the nests of small birds in bushes in which it was very difficult even for a trained eye to find the nest at all, although in all probability it would have been comparatively easy to detect these nests in the actual bushes in which they were placed.

Speaking of the Somali giraffe, Colonel J. J. Harrison, in a footnote to a photograph of one of these animals shot by himself right out in open country, which appeared in the Bystander for January 30, 1907, says: "These handsome coloured giraffes are very striking when seen standing in the sun. Of a rich bright chestnut colour, with pure white rings, they stand out splendidly as compared with the dull grey colouring of the more southern giraffe."

However, it appears to me that to whatever extent the coloration of the various races of giraffes harmonises with their surroundings, that result must have been brought about by the influence of their environment rather than by the need of protective coloration, for I cannot believe that the struggle for life against the attacks of carnivorous animals can have been sufficiently severe to have influenced the colour and the arrangement of markings in giraffes. That lions occasionally attack and kill giraffes is an undoubted fact, and, as I shall relate in a subsequent chapter, I have also known a case of a very young giraffe having been attacked by two leopards; but in South Africa giraffes are found in the greatest numbers in those parts of the country where, except during the rainy season, there is very little surface water, and where other species of game are far from plentiful. Into such districts lions do not often penetrate, and when giraffes are found in country where there is plenty of water, zebras, buffaloes, and antelopes of various kinds will also be numerous, and these animals will certainly be preyed upon in preference. At any rate, my own experience would lead me to believe that although lions can and do kill giraffes upon occasion, they do not habitually prey upon these animals. Moreover, when giraffes are killed by lions, they are in all probability followed by scent and killed in the dark.

Altogether, the theory that the colour of the giraffe has been evolved by the necessity for concealment and protection from the attacks of carnivorous animals does not seem to me to be at all well supported by the life-history of that animal as seen by a practical hunter; but the fact that the coloration of this remarkable animal assimilates very well with the dull and monotonous shades of the trees and bushes in the parched and waterless districts it usually frequents, is a strong argument in favour of there being a law which, working through the ages, tends to bring the colours of all organic beings into harmony with their surroundings, irrespective of any special benefit they may receive in the way of protection from enemies by such harmonious coloration.

Turning to the striped and spotted forest antelopes inhabiting various parts of Africa, I think there is some misconception amongst naturalists who have not visited that country as to the general surroundings amongst which the various species live. The magnificent koodoo, with his long spiral horns, striped body, spotted cheeks, nose marked with a white arrow, and throat adorned with a long fringe of hair, is often spoken of as an inhabitant of dense jungle. This is, however, by no means the case, for although koodoos are never found on open plains, they are, on the other hand, seldom met with in really dense jungle.

The range of the koodoo to the south of the Zambesi extends farther to the south and west than that of the sable antelope, but I think I am justified in saying that up to the time of the deplorable visitation of rinderpest in 1896, wherever, between the Limpopo and the Zambesi, sable antelopes were to be met with, there koodoos were also to be found, and outside of districts infested by the "tse-tse" fly, excepting amongst rocky hills, I have never met with the latter animals in any country where I was not able to gallop after them on horseback.

Living as they do in surroundings so very similar to those frequented by sable antelopes, I have never been able to understand why koodoos should have such much larger ears than the former animals. I have never been struck with the acute sense of hearing in koodoos as I have been in the case of the moose of North America, and I should scarcely think that this sense would often save them from the noiseless approach of such animals as lions or leopards, to which they very frequently fall a prey, judging by the number of the remains of koodoo bulls which I have found that had been killed by the former animals.

I have often wondered whether the large size of the ears observable in the African tragelaphine antelopes, which are all forests dwellers (with the exception of the situtunga, which lives in dense beds of reeds), may not be useful to them by enabling the males and females to hear one another's calls during the mating season. The large ears and exquisite sense of hearing of the moose, which is also a forest-dwelling animal, have undoubtedly been developed for the purpose of enabling the males and females to find one another in the breeding season, and not for protection against the attacks of wolves. I have frequently heard both koodoos and bushbucks calling by night and also in the early morning. The noise they make is a sort of bark or cough.

Antelopes inhabiting open plains are very gregarious, and in the daytime would always be able to find their mates by sight. I have never heard them making anything but low grunting noises. As it is often assumed by naturalists that all bush-haunting species of antelopes have very large ears, it is perhaps worth noticing that in the little blue buck and the red bush duiker of South-East Africa, which both live in dense jungle near the coast, the ears are very small; whilst in the steinbuck, on the other hand, which is always found in very open country and never in thick bush, the ears are very large—both long and broad.

The coloration observable in the different races of bushbucks inhabiting different localities, as well as in the situtunga and inyala antelopes, is, I think, very interesting and suggestive. It may, I think, be taken for granted that all the races of African bushbucks have been derived from an ancestral form which was both striped and spotted; but in the bushbucks found near the coast of the Cape Colony and Natal, the adult males are deep dark brown in colour, often absolutely devoid of any white spots or stripes on face or body, whilst the adult females are yellowish red, with only a few white spots on the flanks. Now these most southerly of the African bushbucks live in really dense bush, and often in deep ravines, where the sun never penetrates. Their habitat too being near the sea-coast, the climate must be damper than in the interior of the continent. In the northern parts of Mashunaland and along the Central Zambesi and Chobi rivers the bushbucks live in forest and bush which is seldom very dense, and through most of which the sunlight plays constantly. In these districts the males are, when adult, beautifully striped and spotted, and the ground colour of their coats is rich red and dark brown, the females being of a dark rich red and also well striped and spotted. The situtunga antelopes live (on the Chobi and Central Zambesi) in immense beds of reeds which are always of one dull monotonous greyish green or brown. The adult animals are, as might be expected by those who believe in the direct influence of environment, of a uniform light brown colour, except that the spots on the cheeks and the arrow-shaped mark across the nose, present in most tragelaphine antelopes, are still discernible. In the inyala antelope, which inhabits thick jungly tracts of bush along the south-east coast of Africa, the adult male is of a deep dark grey in general body colour, with a few scarcely visible vertical white stripes. The young males and the adult females are, however, of a brilliant light red colour, profusely striped and spotted with white. The young of all bushbucks and of the inyala are reddish in ground colour, striped and spotted with white. The fœtal young of the situtunga found in the marshes of the Chobi are of the colour of a dark moleskin beautifully banded and spotted with pale yellow, and it is, I think, a very remarkable fact that these stripes and spots are identical in position with those found on the adult Chobi bushbuck, which is strong evidence, I think, that both these animals are descended from one ancestral form.

Now the only animal that preys habitually on bushbucks, inyalas, and situtungas is the leopard, and as leopards hunt by night and by scent, I cannot believe that the very different outward appearance of the various races of bushbucks inhabiting different parts of Africa is to be accounted for by the theory of protective coloration. The males and females of the Cape bushbuck and of the inyala antelope are very different one from another in the colour of their coats, but this does not seem to be prejudicial to either sex, though there is absolutely no difference in their habits or their habitat. In all the different races of bushbucks, however, with which I am acquainted, the males are much darker in colour than the females, so that it is not so very surprising that in the case of the inyala and the Cape bushbuck the males should have been the first to lose their stripes and spots in a sombre environment. In the case of the Cape bushbuck the adult females have already lost all the stripes and most of the spots of the ancestral form. The female inyala is, however, one of the most distinctly striped and spotted representatives of the tragelaphine group.

I cannot see that facts support the opinion that the uniform dull brown coloration of both sexes of the southern race of situtunga has been brought about for the purpose of protection from carnivorous enemies. During the daytime these animals live in the midst of beds of reeds growing in water where they cannot be approached except by wading; but at night they are often killed by leopards, and perhaps sometimes by lions, whilst feeding just outside the reed beds, on open ground which has perhaps been recently swept by a veld fire, and where young reeds and grass are just sprouting. At such a time their actual colour can be of no more use in the way of protecting them from their keen-scented feline foes than if it were black or red or grey. To me it seems far more probable that the situtunga has gradually lost the stripes and spots of the ancestral form from which it is derived, and assumed a uniform dull brown coloration, because it has lived for ages amongst reed beds of one dull monotonous colour, than because a uniform brown coat affords it a special protection against carnivorous foes.

I gather from the writings of Mr. A. R. Wallace and other well-known naturalists that, whereas the coloration of all animals is supposed to be due to the need of protection from carnivorous beasts, many species have developed in addition what are known as recognition marks, to enable them to distinguish members of their own species from nearly allied forms, or to help them to quickly recognise and rejoin the members of the herd or family from which they may have been separated.

That many large mammals belonging to different genera, and living in widely separated parts of the globe, are marked with conspicuous patches of white on the rump, neck, or face, or throw up bushy tails when running, showing a large white under surface, is an indisputable fact, though it is not possible to say that the possession of such a conspicuous coloration is absolutely necessary to the well-being of any particular species, because there will nearly always be other species living in the same country, and subject to the attacks of the same predatory animals, in which these so-called recognition marks are absent. However, on the supposition that carnivorous animals hunt by sight, it seems to me that no animal can be said to be protectively coloured which is marked in any way so conspicuously as to be recognisable by others of its own species at a distance, for it would be equally recognisable by all predatory animals, and caribou and white-tailed deer or African antelopes cannot escape from wolves or wild dogs by running like rabbits into burrows.

Personally, I cannot see why large antelopes which live in herds on open plains should require special recognition marks, as in such localities the bulk of an animal's whole body would be plainly visible at a great distance no matter what its colour might be. If an antelope became separated from its fellows by night, all so-called recognition marks would be invisible at a very short distance. It must be remembered, however, that every species of animal has a peculiar and very distinctive smell of its own, and my own observations would lead me to believe that most wild animals recognise one another, as a rule, more by scent than by sight.

It seems difficult to believe that there can be any truth in the theory suggested by Mr. Wallace, that recognition marks have been developed in certain species of large mammals because they are necessary to enable nearly allied species of animals to know their own kind at a glance, and so prevent interbreeding; for the ranges of very nearly allied forms of one genus, such as the various species of hartebeests and oryxes, or the bontebok and the blesbok, very seldom overlap, and so each species keeps true of necessity and without the help of special recognition marks. Where the ranges of two nearly allied species do overlap interbreeding probably will take place.

There seems little doubt that the species of hartebeest known as Neumann's hartebeest has interbred with Jackson's hartebeest in certain districts where the ranges of the two species meet. In the neighbourhood of Lake Nakuru, in British East Africa, I shot, in February 1903, a hartebeest which was not a Jackson's hartebeest, but which closely resembled an animal of that species in the character of its horns and the measurements of its skull, whilst all the others in the same herd appeared to be true Neumann's. I have known too of one undoubted case of the interbreeding of the South African hartebeest (B. Caama) with the tsessebe (Damaliseus lunatus).

This animal (an adult male) was shot by my friend Cornelis van Rooyen in Western Matabeleland, where the ranges of the two species just overlap. In coloration it was like a tsessebe, but had the comparatively bushy tail of the hartebeest, whilst its skull and horns (which are, I am glad to say, in the collection of the Natural History Museum at South Kensington) are exactly intermediate between those of the two parent species. This skull has been very unsatisfactorily labelled "supposed hybrid between B. Caama and D. lunatus." But as, when I presented it to the Natural History Museum, I gave at the same time a full description of the animal to which it had belonged, which I got from the man who actually shot it, there is no supposition in the matter. If the skull and horns in question are not those of a hybrid between the South African hartebeest and the tsessebe, then they must belong to an animal still unknown to science.

There is, I think, no large mammal in the whole world whose coat shows a greater richness of bloom and a more abrupt contrast of colours than the bontebok, so called by the old Dutch colonists of the Cape because of its many coloured hide, for bont means spotted, or blotched, or variegated. The whole neck, the chest, the sides and under parts of the head, and the sides of the body of this remarkable antelope are of a rich dark brown, and the central part of the back is of a beautiful purple lilac; whilst, in strong contrast to these rich dark colours, the whole front of the face, a good-sized patch on the rump, the whole belly, and the legs are of a pure and brilliant white. In life, and when they are in good condition, a wonderful sheen plays and shimmers over the glossy coats of these beautifully coloured animals, which fully atones for the want of grace and refinement in the shape of their heads and the heavy build of their bodies.

Now, a practical acquaintance with the very limited extent of country in which the bontebok has been evolved, and where the survivors of the race still live, makes it quite impossible for me to believe that the extraordinarily brilliant colouring of this species of antelope can have been gradually developed in order to make it inconspicuous and therefore difficult of detection by carnivorous animals, nor can I believe that it has been evolved for the purpose of mutual recognition between individuals of the species; for although the snow-white blaze down the face or the white rump patch might very well subserve such a purpose, I see no necessity, looking to the habitat and the habits of the bontebok, for special recognition marks.

Now, before proceeding further, I think I ought to say a word as to the points of resemblance and the differences between the bontebok and its near ally the blesbok.

In the latter, the wonderful contrasts of colour to be seen in the former are considerably toned down; but the difference between the two species is merely superficial. The general body colour of the blesbok is dark brown, but not so dark as on the neck and sides of the bontebok, and the delicate purply lilac colour of the back in the latter species is altogether wanting in the former. In the blesbok, too, the colour of the rump just above the tail, which in the bontebok is snow-white, is brown, though of a paler shade than any other part of the body. In the blesbok, too, the white face "blaze" is not continuous from the horns downwards as in the bontebok, but is interrupted above the eyes by a bar of brown. The legs, too, in the blesbok are not so white as in the bontebok, and whilst the horns of the latter species are always perfectly black, in the former they are of a greenish colour.

In a word, the differences between the bontebok and the blesbok are confined to the intensity of the colours on various portions of their hides, the former being much more brilliantly coloured than the latter.

Owing to the fact that the early Dutch settlers at the Cape first met with the antelopes which they called bonteboks on the plains near Cape Agulhas, and subsequently at first gave the same name to the nearly allied species which was discovered about one hundred years later in the neighbourhood of the Orange river, although these latter were undoubtedly blesboks and not bonteboks, a great confusion arose between these two nearly allied species, which I think that I was the first to clear up, in the article on the bontebok which I contributed to the Great and Small Game of Africa, published by Rowland Ward, Limited, in 1899. I cannot go into all the arguments I then used, but there can be no doubt that the animals which Captain (afterwards Sir Cornwallis) Harris first met with on the bontebok flats near the Orange river, in the Colesburg division of the Cape Colony, were blesboks and not bonteboks, and that all the millions of antelopes of the same species which he subsequently saw to the north of the Orange river and thought to be bonteboks were also all blesboks, and that he never saw a bontebok at all until after his return to the Cape, when he made a special journey to Cape Agulhas to secure specimens of that species, as he was "anxious to ascertain whether the animal rigorously protected in the neighbourhood of Cape Agulhas differed in any respect from that found in the interior, as pretended by the colonists."

I think myself that the correct determination of the true distribution of these two nearly allied species of antelopes is of the utmost importance to the question as to the influence of environment on the coloration of animals.

I imagine that the white-faced bontebok was evolved from the same ancestral form as the topi and the tiang of East and Northern Africa, for the new-born bontebok as well as the blesbok has a blackish brown face, and I believe—however fantastic this belief may appear to be—that the wonderfully rich and varied coloration of this remarkable antelope has been brought about purely through the influence of its exceptional environment. The plains where these animals live lie along the shore of a deep blue sea, the ground beneath their feet is at certain seasons of the year carpeted with wild flowers, which grow in such profusion that they give a distinct colour to the landscape, whilst above them rises a range of mountains of a considerable altitude, the upper parts of which are often covered with a mantle of pure white snow. I cannot imagine how any one who has seen bonteboks on the plains they inhabit can believe that their white rumps, faces, bellies, and legs, contrasting as they do so vividly with the dark rich brown of their sides and necks, can afford them any protection against their carnivorous foes; nor, although a white rump or face is a conspicuous mark, can I see the necessity of recognition marks for animals which live on open plains where the vegetation is short, and where an animal's whole body can be seen at a long distance.

In the blesbok, which also lives on open plains, the white rump patch so conspicuous in the bontebok has become pale brown, as, I think, through the influence of the dull monotonous colours of the dreary, dull-coloured country in which it lives. Ages ago no doubt the bontebok spread northwards through the karroo into the countries beyond the Orange and the Vaal rivers, but the gradual desiccation of the whole of South-Western Africa, which has been going on for a very long time, must have gradually driven all the bonteboks outside the Cape peninsula northwards to the Orange river, and completely separated them from their relatives still living near Cape Agulhas. These latter have retained all their richness of coloration brought about by the influence of their very striking surroundings, the deep blue of the sea, the snow on the mountains, and the bloom of innumerable wild flowers. The northern herds moved into open plains, in themselves very similar to the plains near Cape Agulhas, but they are never carpeted with wild flowers, nor are they skirted by a deep blue sea, nor ever overlooked by snow-covered mountains. Is it not possible that the differences which exist to-day between the coloration of the bontebok and the blesbok are entirely the result of the absence of any kind of colour but various monotonous shades of brown in the countries in which the latter species has now been living for a long period of time?

Not only has the rich and beautifully variegated body colouring of the bontebok become an almost uniform dark brown in the blesbok, but the snow-white disc on the rump of the former animal has turned to a pale brown in the latter, whilst the area of white on the face and legs of the bontebok has already been considerably contracted in the blesbok.

Personally, I look upon the blesbok as a faded bontebok; faded because it moved northwards out of the richly coloured environment in which it was first evolved into the dull-coloured plains of its present habitat, where it subsequently became isolated owing to the desiccation of the intervening country.

Could the opening up of Africa by the destructive civilised races have been delayed for a few hundred or a few thousand years, the blesbok would no doubt have lost the white blaze down the face as completely as it has lost the white disc over the tail, which is so conspicuous a feature in the coloration of its immediate ancestor, the bontebok. To those who believe that every spot or stripe or patch of colour on every animal is a beautiful illustration of the truth of the theory of protective coloration, this may seem a very fanciful idea. Yet I feel convinced that the influence of environment has played a greater part than is generally believed in the evolution of colour in living organisms. The weak point in the theory of protective coloration when applied to large mammals is the fact that all carnivorous animals are nocturnal and seek their prey habitually by night and by scent, and only occasionally by daylight and by sight.

I submit that the beautiful case in the Central Hall of the Natural History Museum at South Kensington—showing an Arctic fox, in its white winter coat, approaching a Polar hare, also in winter dress, and an ermine (stoat) hunting for ptarmigan (evidently by sight)—gives an entirely false view of the struggle for life as carried on by animals inhabiting the Arctic Regions, for it conveys the idea of the carnivorous animals of those snow-covered wastes hunting for their prey in a bright light and by eyesight alone.

But the truth is that the Arctic winter, during the long continuance of which all living resident creatures, with the exception of the musk ox, become white,[3] is one long night, in the gloom of which the wolves and the foxes and the ermines (stoats) search for and find their prey by scent alone, just as foxes, stoats, and weasels do in this country. As long as a hare gives out any scent at all, a fox will be able to follow and find it. The fact that the hare has turned white in the snow-covered ground in which it is living will not help it as long as it throws out the scent of its species, nor can it be shown that the foxes of the sub-Arctic regions, which never turn white in winter, have any greater difficulty in approaching and killing the white hares on which they live than the white Arctic foxes experience in catching the Polar hares.

[3] I do not admit that the raven is a truly Arctic bird. Nansen, in Farthest North, although he kept careful records of all the birds seen during the three years his expedition lasted, never mentions having seen a raven, which I believe has only penetrated into the Arctic Regions, as an excursionist, in comparatively recent times, following the whaling ships, and living on the carcases of the whales and seals killed.

There is one other point regarding the protection afforded by colour to large mammals against carnivorous foes which I think has not been sufficiently considered by naturalists, and that is, that no matter how well the colour of an animal may harmonise with its surroundings as long as it remains perfectly still, as soon as it moves "it jumps to the eyes," as the French say, no matter what its colour may be. What is called protective coloration to be effective must be motionless. Movement, even very slight movement, at once destroys its efficacy. But no herbivorous animals can remain constantly motionless. They lie down and rest certainly during the heat of the day, which is, however, just the time when all carnivorous animals are sleeping. At night and in the early mornings and late evenings they move about feeding, and it is at such times that carnivorous animals hunt for their prey. In the dark these latter are undoubtedly guided by scent and not by sight, and I cannot see that it matters much to them whether the beasts on which they prey are black or red or grey or spotted or striped; whilst, if they should happen to be still hunting after daylight, any antelopes or other animals feeding and moving about within their range of vision would at once be seen whatever their colour might be. Every old hunter knows how easy it is to overlook any animal, no matter what its colour or surroundings, as long as it is motionless, and how easy it is to see it as soon as ever it moves.

I have never yet heard any explanation given of the black, and therefore most conspicuous, coloration of the Cape buffalo. If any animals needed protective coloration buffaloes certainly did, for in the interior of South Africa they formed the favourite food of the lion, and enormous numbers of them must have been annually killed by these powerful carnivora, which seemed to live with and follow the larger herds in all their wanderings.

It certainly seems very strange to me that giraffes, which are very seldom killed by lions or other carnivora, should have found it necessary to evolve a colour which harmonises with their surroundings, as a protection against such foes, whilst buffaloes, which in many districts used once to form the principal food for the lions living in the same countries, have retained throughout the ages a coloration which is everywhere except in deep shade singularly conspicuous. Altogether, a very long experience of the larger mammals inhabiting Africa and some other parts of the world has convinced me that neither the need of protection against carnivorous foes nor the theory of recognition marks can satisfactorily explain all the wonderful diversity of colour to be seen in the coats of wild animals.

CHAPTER III

NOTES ON THE LION

The lion—Native names for—Character of—Death of Ponto—Picture in Gordon Cumming's book—Death of Hendrik—Number of natives killed by lions—Usual mode of seizure—A trooper's adventure—Poisonous nature of lion's bite—Story of the Tsavo man-eaters—Death of Mr. Ryall—Story of the tragedy—Precautions by natives against lions—Remains of a lion's victim found—Four women killed—Lion killed—Carcase burned—Story of the Majili man-eater—Man-eating lions usually old animals—Strength of lions—Large ox killed by single lion—Buffaloes killed by lions—Ox slowly killed by family of lions—Lions usually silent when attacking and killing their prey—Camp approached by three lions—Various ways of killing game—Favourite food of lions—Giraffes rarely killed by lions—Evidence as to lions attacking elephants—Michael Engelbreght's story—Mr. Arnot's letter describing the killing of an elephant cow by six lions.

Of all the multifarious forms of life with which the great African Continent has been so bountifully stocked, none, not even excepting the "half-reasoning elephant" or the "armed rhinoceros," has been responsible for such a wealth of anecdote and story, or has stirred the heart and imagination of mankind to such a degree, as the lion—the great and terrible meat-eating cat, the monarch of the African wilderness, by night at least, whose life means constant death to all his fellow-brutes, from the ponderous buffalo to the light-footed gazelle, and fear, and often destruction too, to the human inhabitants of the countries through which he roams.

How often has not the single word "Simba," "Tauw," "Shumba," "Silouān," or any other native African synonym for the lion, sent the blood tingling through the veins of a European traveller or hunter; or when whispered or screamed in the darkness of the night in a native village or encampment, brought terror to the hearts of dark-skinned men and women!

When met in the light of day, a lion may be bold and aggressive, retiring, or even cowardly, according to its individual character and the circumstances under which it is encountered; but no one, I think, who has had anything like a long experience of the nature and habits of these great carnivora can doubt that by night, particularly on a dark rainy night, a hungry lion is a terrible and terrifying beast to deal with.

One day towards the end of the year 1878, my friend Mr. Alfred Cross left our main camp on the Umfuli river in Mashunaland, and taking an empty waggon with him, went off to buy corn at some native villages about twenty miles distant. That same afternoon he outspanned early near a small stream running into the Umfuli, as a heavy thunderstorm was threatening. A kraal was made for the oxen, behind which the Kafir boys arranged a shelter for themselves of boughs and dry grass as a protection from the anticipated downpour of rain. They also collected a lot of dry wood in order to be able to keep up a good fire. The waggon-driver, a native of the Cape Colony, made his bed under the waggon, to the front wheel of which Mr. Cross's horse was fastened. As one of the hind oxen kept breaking out of the kraal, it was tied up by itself to the hind yoke close in front of the waggon. The trek chain, with the other yokes attached to it, was then stretched straight out along the ground in front of the waggon. Soon after dark the thunderstorm, which had been gathering all the afternoon, burst forth with terrific violence. The rain fell in sheets, soon extinguishing the fires that had been lighted by the Kafirs, and the blinding flashes of lightning which continually lit up both heaven and earth with blue-white light were quickly succeeded by crashing peals of thunder.

The storm had lasted some time and the rain had almost ceased, when the ox which was tied up all alone to the after yoke of the waggon began to jump backwards and forwards over the disselboom—the waggon pole.

Cross, who was then lying down inside the waggon, raised himself to a sitting position, and whilst calling to the ox to quiet it, crawled forward, and raising the fore sheet, looked out. Just then a vivid flash of lightning lit up the inky blackness of the night just for one brief moment. But the brilliant light revealed to my friend every detail of the surrounding landscape, and showed him with startling distinctness the form of a big male lion lying flat on the ground not ten yards in front of the frightened ox, which it would probably already have seized, had it not been for Cross's loud shouting. The lion had been no doubt creeping silently towards its would-be prey, which had already become aware of its proximity, when my friend's voice caused it to halt and lie flat on the ground watching. By this time Cross's dog, a well-bred pointer, which had been lying on the driver's blankets under the waggon, had become aware that something was wrong—though the lion was no doubt making its approach against the wind—and was standing just behind the ox, growling.

Directly the position of the lion was revealed to him by the lightning, Cross seized his rifle, and calling to the waggon-driver to jump up and hold his horse, took aim in the direction of the crouching brute, waiting for another flash of lightning. This was not long delayed, and showed the lion still lying flat on the ground close in front of the waggon. Cross fired at once. Encouraged by the report of the rifle, poor Ponto rushed boldly forward, past the terrified ox, into the black night, barking loudly. A yelp of fright or pain suddenly succeeded the bold barking of the dog, and poor Ponto's voice was stilled for ever. He had rushed right into the lion's jaws, and had been instantly killed and carried off. Fires were then made up again, but the lion, apparently satisfied with a somewhat light repast, did not give any further trouble. On the following morning Cross could find no part of Ponto but the head. All the rest of him had apparently been eaten.

I remember even to-day, and with perfect distinctness, though I have not seen it for many years, a certain picture in Gordon Cumming's well-known book on African hunting, and the fearful fascination it always had for me when I was a small boy. That picture represented a great gaunt lion in the act of seizing one of the hunter's Hottentot servants—poor Hendrik—as he lay asleep by the camp fire; but it left to the imagination all the horror and agony of mind suffered by the poor wretch, when so rudely awakened at dead of night and swiftly dragged away into the darkness to a cruel death, in spite of the gallant attempts of his comrades to save him.

During the sixty odd years that have elapsed since this tragedy was enacted on the banks of the Limpopo, many a similar incident has taken place. Some of these occurrences have come within the knowledge of, and been described by, European travellers and hunters, yet these have been but isolated cases, and can only represent a very small percentage of the number of natives that have been dragged away from their camp fires, or even killed in their huts, by hungry lions within recent times.

As a rule, I think, a lion seizes a sleeping man by the head, and in that case, unless it is a very old and weakly animal, death must be usually instantaneous, as its great fang teeth will be driven into the brain through the thickest negro skull.

I have known of two instances of men having been seized at night by the shoulder. This, I think, is likely to happen to a sleeping man lying on his side with one shoulder raised, especially if his recumbent form should happen to be covered with a blanket, in which case the most prominent part of him would very likely be mistaken by a lion for his head.

In the early 'nineties of the last century, two troopers of the British South Africa Company's Police started one afternoon from the neighbourhood of Lo Magondi's kraal to ride into Salisbury, the capital of Mashunaland, a distance of about seventy miles. They rode until dark, and then off-saddling their horses, tied them to a tree, and after having had something to eat and cooked a pot of tea, lay down by the side of the camp fire they had kindled, intending to sleep until the moon rose and then continue their journey by its light. About midnight, however, and when it was very dark, for the moon had not yet risen, a prowling lion came up to their lonely bivouac, and, disregarding their horses, seized one of them by the shoulder and at once dragged him away into the darkness. His companion, awakened by his cries, quickly realised what had happened, and snatching up his rifle, ran to his friend's assistance and fired two or three shots into the air in quick succession. This so startled the lion that it dropped its prospective supper and made off. The wounded man, it was found, had received a severe bite in the shoulder when the lion first seized him, but fortunately had not suffered any further injuries, and was able to proceed with his friend to Salisbury as soon as the moon had risen. He had to be sent to the Hospital on his arrival there, as, although his hurts were not very serious, any wound indicted by the teeth of a lion is, as a rule, very difficult to heal unless carefully attended to at once and cauterised with a strong lotion of carbolic acid. Dr. Livingstone has described how he suffered for years from the bite of a lion; and I have myself seen wounds from the teeth of one of these animals in a horse's neck, which had never been properly attended to, still suppurating thirteen months after they had been inflicted; whilst, on the other hand, I have seen wounds from the bite of a lion, which were cauterised at once, heal up very quickly and never reopen.

Of all the lion stories that I have ever heard or read, I think none equals in dramatic interest the thrilling narrative of Mr. J. H. Patterson's[4] experiences with two man-eaters during the construction of the Uganda Railway in 1898. This very remarkable story, a brief account of which I first read some years ago with the most absorbing interest in the Field newspaper, has now, I am glad to say, been incorporated in the record of his experiences in East Africa which Colonel Patterson has recently published under the title of The Man-Eaters of Tsavo. Mr. Patterson (as he then was) at last succeeded in ridding the country of both of these dread beasts, but not before they had killed and eaten twenty-eight Indian coolies employed upon the construction of the Uganda Railway, and caused such a panic through the country-side, that at one time it looked as if the building of the railway would have to be abandoned altogether for the time being.

[4] This gentleman greatly distinguished himself in the late South African War, and is now Lieut. Col. Patterson, D.S.O.

The death of Mr. C. H. Ryall, the Assistant Superintendent of the East African Police Force, who was killed by a man-eating lion inside a railway carriage on the Uganda Railway, is also a most interesting episode, as it shows how extraordinarily bold a hungry lion may become, when in search of prey during the hours of darkness.

When in East Africa a few years ago, I met both the other two Europeans (Mr. Huebner, a German, and Mr. Parenti, an Italian) who were in the carriage with Mr. Ryall when he was killed, and I heard the story of the tragedy from their lips.

The railway carriage in question, which contained a small saloon and an adjoining servants' compartment, had been pulled on to a siding, close to a small station on the Uganda Railway, in order to give its occupants the chance of getting a shot at a man-eating lion which had lately been giving trouble in the neighbourhood—either as it came prowling about during the night or by hunting it up the next morning. There was a small window on each side of the little saloon, and a sliding door at the end of the carriage. Both the windows and the door were wide open. Mr. Ryall took the first watch, and seems to have taken up a position on one of the seats of the carriage, with his back to the open window. His head and shoulders would therefore probably have been visible to the eyes of a nocturnal animal from outside.

Mr. Huebner turned in and went to sleep on one of the top berths in the carriage, and Mr. Parenti made his bed on the floor. It is probable, I think, that Mr. Ryall also went to sleep after a time. What happened afterwards I will now relate as it was told to me by Mr. Parenti. "I was awakened from a sound sleep by the sensation of a weight holding me down on the floor, and for a moment was unable to move. Then the weight was taken off me, and I raised my head with a jerk. My face immediately came in contact with a soft hairy body, and I became conscious of a disagreeable smell. In an instant I realised that there was a lion in the railway carriage, and that at that moment it was killing poor Mr. Ryall, as I heard a sort of gurgling noise, the only sound he ever made."

Mr. Huebner seems to have awakened at the same time, and to have at once jumped down on to the floor of the carriage, where he and Mr. Parenti and the lion were all mixed up together. At this time the weight of the lion and the struggling men combined slightly tipped the carriage to one side, causing the sliding door to close automatically, and thus materially increasing the horror of the situation. Mr. Parenti, as soon as he could collect his thoughts, made his escape from the carriage through the open window opposite to the one against which poor Mr. Ryall had been sitting when the lion seized him, and Mr. Huebner burst open the door communicating with the smaller compartment occupied by Mr. Ryall's two Indian servants, who, having become aware that there was a lion in the other room with the "Sahibs," were holding the door against the crowd with all their strength. Mr. Huebner, however, who is a heavy, powerful man, soon overcame their resistance.

To do it justice, this lion does not seem to have had any wish to make itself unnecessarily disagreeable. It wanted something to eat, but, having got hold of Mr. Ryall, seems never to have paid the smallest attention to any one else. In all probability, I think, it had seen its victim's back and head from outside against the open window, and, coming round to the open door, had entered the carriage and made straight for him, treading on Mr. Parenti's sleeping form as it crossed the floor. It seized Mr. Ryall by the throat just under the jaw, and must have reared itself up, probably resting its fore-paws on the seat of the carriage, to have done so. Mr. Ryall must have been killed by the first bite almost instantaneously, as he never seems to have struggled or made any noise but a low gurgling sound.

The windows of the carriages on the Uganda Railway are small, but after having killed Mr. Ryall, this lion—a big male—succeeded in carrying off his body through the comparatively small opening. It probably never relaxed its hold on his throat until it had got his dead body safely out of the carriage and pulled it away to some distance.

The half-eaten remains of the unfortunate man were recovered the next day nearly a mile away from the railway carriage in which he had met his death; but the lion was nowhere to be found, and in spite of a large reward offered for its destruction, it was some time before this bold and dangerous beast was disposed of. At last, however, it was caught alive in a big cage-trap made by a Mr. Costello, who at that time was the station-master at Makindu, on the Uganda Railway. After having been photographed, this lion was shot. This photograph was shown me by Mr. Costello himself, who told me that the captured animal was old and mangy, with very worn teeth and claws, and a short, scrubby mane. He thought that there could be no reasonable doubt that it was the lion that had killed poor Mr. Ryall, but of course nobody can be absolutely certain on this point.

Natives living in very small communities, in wild districts where game being still abundant, lions also are consequently fairly numerous, are often troubled at night by these animals. In such cases a man-eating lion usually proves to be an old and almost worn-out beast, which having grown too weak to catch and kill its usual prey, has been driven by hunger to approach the haunts of men. Urged on by its desperate need, such a lion knows no fear, and will not hesitate to enter a small native village or even to force its way into a hut in search of food.

In 1879, whilst hunting elephants in the country to the east of the Chobi or Quito river, I met with a very primitive tribe of natives living in families or very small communities in isolated villages along the bank of the river. Their huts were of the flimsiest description, being formed of a light framework of poles, over which a few grass mats had been stretched; but the two or three, up to half a dozen, ill-made huts which formed each village were always surrounded and protected by a carefully made stockade, the poles forming which were all sharpened at the end and hardened by having been charred in the fire, and so placed that they slanted outwards and would have been very difficult to surmount from the outside. The natives informed me that they had taken this trouble as a defence against lions.

"HE HAD EVIDENTLY BEEN SITTING OR LYING BY A FIRE WHEN CAUGHT."

One morning, in this same district, I came upon most of the skeleton of a man who had been killed and eaten by a lion a few days before. He had evidently been sitting or lying by a fire when caught, and had probably been overtaken by darkness when on his way from one village to another. This man's spears lay close to his bones, so that he must have been holding them in his hand when he was seized. None of my Kafirs would touch them. Apparently it was not etiquette to meddle with the belongings of a dead man, though I think that most of the members of my retinue would not have been above stealing anything they might have found lying about, belonging to a live one.

In April 1878 a lion entered a small Banyai village near the river Umay, in Northern Matabeleland, a short time after I had left it, and, not being able to make its way into any of the huts through the small doorways, all of which had been very carefully barricaded, climbed on the roof of one of them, and tearing away the grass thatching, forced its way in from the top. There were three or four women inside the hut, and it killed them all; but, having gorged itself, was apparently unable to make its escape through the roof again, and was speared to death by the men of the village the next morning through the framework of the hut, after the mud plaster had been removed in places.

A native servant of my own, whom I had left behind in this village, was present when this lion was killed, and he told me that, as soon as it was dead, a huge bonfire was built, on which the carcase of the man-eater was thrown, and the fire kept up until it was quite consumed.

The most cunning and destructive man-eating lion—probably because it was not an old and weakly animal, but in the prime of life—that I ever heard of in South Africa was one which once haunted the neighbourhood of the Majili river, a tributary of the central Zambesi from the north. I gave some account of the doings of this bold and ferocious beast in the course of an article which I contributed to the pages of the Fortnightly Review some twenty years ago, and as I have the kind permission of the editor and proprietor of that publication to do so, I will now retell the story as I originally heard it from one of my own native servants shortly after the occurrences related took place.

In the early part of 1886 two half-caste elephant-hunters, Henry Wall and Black Jantje—the latter for several years both before and after this time a trusted servant of my own—crossed the Zambesi at its junction with the Quito or Chobi, in order to hunt elephants in the country to the north between the Majili and Ungwesi rivers.

They soon heard from the natives that there was a man-eating lion in the district which had already killed several people, and they were therefore careful to see that a strong fence was made every night behind their camp, and sufficient dry wood collected to keep up good fires during the hours of darkness. The two half-civilised hunters were accustomed to sleep by themselves within a strong semicircular fence, the open end of which was protected by a large fire. All but one of their native boys—wild Batongas and Masubias—slept together, lying in a row with a strong fence behind them and a succession of fires near their feet. The boy who would not sleep with the others, always lay by one or other of the fires by himself.

One night, Henry Wall, who was a very light sleeper, and had perhaps been dreaming of lions, was awakened, as he afterwards declared, by the sound of a low growl or purr close to him. Springing to his feet, he shouted out, "De leeuw is hier!" ("The lion's here!"); "wake up, Jantje!" But Jantje and all the Kafirs were fast asleep, and it was not until they had been awakened and questioned that it was discovered that the man who had been lying by one of the fires all alone was gone. Where he had gone and why was not left long in doubt, for almost immediately a lion was heard eating his remains close behind the encampment. Henry Wall and Jantje at once fired in the direction of the sound, on which the lion retired to a safer distance with its prey.

As soon as it was broad daylight, the hunters took up the spoor of the lion, which was, they told me, quite easy to follow through the dewy grass. It was not long before they saw it walking slowly along with its head half-turned, holding the dead man by one shoulder, so that his legs dragged at its side. As soon as it became aware that it was being followed, it dropped its prey, and wheeling round, stood looking at its pursuers, twitching its tail and growling angrily.

Henry Wall, who was a very good shot and a cool and courageous man, now tried to fire, but the old, clumsy, muzzle-loading elephant gun he was using only snapped the cap. At this juncture Jantje, who was a little to one side, was unable to fire because there was a bush in his way, and before Henry Wall could get another cap on the nipple of his gun, the Kafir who carried his second weapon fired at and missed the lion, which instantly turned and, running into a patch of bush, made good its escape.

On examination, it was found that the dead man had been seized by the head. He must have been killed instantaneously, as the two upper canine teeth had been driven through the top of the skull, whilst one of the lower ones had entered beneath the jaw and broken the bone. During the night the corpse had been disembowelled and all the flesh eaten off the thighs and buttocks.

A few days later, a native family was attacked not far from the scene of the episode I have just recounted, and almost certainly by the same lion.

All over Africa, wherever game is plentiful, it is customary for the natives, at the season when their crops are ripening, to build huts in their fields, in which they spend the night and endeavour to keep buffaloes, elephants, and all kinds of antelopes out of their corn by shouting and beating tom-toms. The huts are often built on the top of platforms raised ten or twelve feet above the ground and reached by a ladder. The native family in question occupied two huts—a large one built on the ground and a small one on the top of a platform. The large hut was occupied by a woman and her two children, whilst her husband kept watch alone in the little open hut above.

One night the dread man-eater of the Majili came prowling round, and scenting the native on the platform, either sprang up and seized him with its teeth, or more probably, I think, half clambered up by the help of the ladder, and dragged him from his shelter with its claws. At any rate, it bore him to the ground and speedily killed him, but not before he had made a good deal of noise, as reported afterwards by his children. His wife, awakened by the cries of her husband, opened the door of her hut and rushed out, leaving the two children inside. The lion at once left the man, who was then dead, and seizing the woman, quickly killed her. It never returned to the body of the man at all, but ate all the fleshy parts of the woman, retiring into the bush before daylight, and never revisiting the corpses.

All through the dry season this lion kept the natives in the neighbourhood of the Majili river in a constant state of alarm, and whilst adding steadily to the number of its victims, baffled every attempt made to hunt it down and destroy it. After having been away for some months, hunting elephants in the country farther north, Henry Wall and Black Jantje once again camped on the Majili river on their way back to the Zambesi, and for the second time the man-eater paid them a visit. This time Jantje was awake, and hearing, as he told me, a low purring growl, jumped up, calling out, "Daat's de leeuw wieder!" ("That's the lion again!").

At the same time one of the Kafirs stood up holding his hand to his head.

"What's the matter with you?" asked Jantje, going up to him.