Part 19

C. G. Schillings, phot.

A VELT FIRE.]

For once the mist rolls off rapidly; a gust of wind drives away the clouds. The sun breaks through. Look! there is a whole herd of elephants below us in the valley! But in another second the impenetrable forest of trees screens them from my camera. At last they become clearly visible again, and I manage to photograph two cow-elephants in the distance. The sun vanishes again now, and an hour later I have at last the whole herd clearly before me in the hollow. How the little calves cling to their mothers! How quietly the massive beasts move about, now disappearing into the gullies, now reappearing and climbing up the hillside with a sureness of foot that makes them seem more like automatons than animals. Every now and again the ruddy earth-coloured backs emerge from the mass of foliage. A wonderful and moving picture! For I know full well that the gigantic mothers are caring for their children and protecting them from the human fiend who seeks to destroy them with pitfalls, poisoned arrows, or death-dealing guns. How cautiously they all move, scenting the wind with uplifted trunks, and keeping a look-out for pitfalls! Every movement shows careful foresight; the gigantic old leaders have evidently been through some dire experiences.

Suddenly a warning cry rings out. Immediately the whole herd disappears noiselessly into the higher rain-channels of the hill--the “Subugo woods” of the Wandorobo hunters.

* * * * *

Had the elephants not got these places of refuge to fly to they would have died out long ago! This is the only means by which they are still able to exist in Africa. I feel how difficult it is to depict accurately the constant warfare that is going on between man and beast, and can only give others a vague idea of what it is like. Many secrets of the life and fate and the speedy annihilation of the African elephants will sink into the grave with the last commercial elephant-hunters. And once again civilisation will have done away with an entire species in the course of a single century. The question as to how far this was necessary will provide ample material for pamphlets and discussions in times to come.

When one knows the “subugo,” however, one understands how it has been possible for elephants in South Africa to have held out so long in the Knysna and Zitzikama forests until European hunters began to go after them with rifles in expert fashion. Fritsch visited the Knysna forests in 1863. “It is easy,” he says, “to understand how elephants have managed to remain in their forests for weeks together before one of their number has fallen, even when hundreds of men have been after them. There are spots in these forests--regular islands completely surrounded by water--where they take refuge, and where no one can get at them.”

C. G. Schillings, phot.

AN OLD ACACIA TREE.]

Of course, Fritsch speaks of a time when the art of shooting was in its infancy. One must not forget that nowadays ruthless marksmen will reach the mighty beasts even in these islands of refuge--marksmen who shoot at a venture with small-calibre rifles, and who find the dead elephant later somewhere in the neighbourhood, with vultures congregated round the corpse.

* * * * *

Now perhaps I may have to wait in vain for hours, days, and even weeks! Some mornings there is absolutely nothing to be seen--the animals have gone down to the lake to drink, or have taken refuge in one of the little morasses at the foot of the hill. Judging by their nocturnal wanderings it seems as if they must have other accessible drinking-places in the vicinity. A search for these places, however, is not to be thought of. If I were to penetrate to these haunts they would immediately note my footsteps and take to flight for months, perhaps, putting miles between themselves and their would-be photographer.

For to-day, at any rate, all is over. The sun only breaks through the heavy masses of cloud for a few minutes at a time, and great sombre palls of mist hang over the forests, constantly changing from one shape to another.

To obtain a picture by means of the telephoto-lens did not seem at all feasible. But a photo of bull-elephants and giraffes together!--so long as there was the faintest chance of it I would not lose heart. It was not easy, but I must succeed! So, wet through and perishing with cold, I wandered every morning through the tall grass to the top of the hill and waited and waited....

The elephants seemed to have completely disappeared; no matter how far I extended my daily excursions, they were nowhere to be seen. At length I came across a fairly big herd, but they had taken up their stand in such an impenetrable thicket that it was quite impossible to sight them. After much creeping and crawling through the elephant and rhinoceros paths in the undergrowth I managed to get just for a few minutes a faint glimpse of the vague outline of single animals, but so indistinct that it was impossible to determine their age, size, or sex. In East Africa elephants are generally seen under these unfavourable conditions. Very seldom does one come upon a good male tusk-bearing specimen, as well-meaning but inexperienced persons, such as I myself was at one time, would desire.

There is something very exciting and stimulating in coming face to face with these gigantic creatures in the thick undergrowth. All one’s nerves are strained to see or hear the faintest indication of the whereabouts of the herd; the sultry air, the dense tangle through which we have to move, and which hinders every step, combine to excite us. We can only see a few paces around. The strong scent of elephant stimulates us. The snapping and creaking of branches and twigs, the noises made by the beasts themselves, especially the shrill cry of warning given out from time to time by one of the herd--all add to the tension. The clanging, pealing sound of this cry has something particularly weird in it in the stillness of the great forest. At such a signal the whole herd moves forward, to-day quietly without noise, and to-morrow in wild blustering flight. It is very seldom that one can catch them up on the same day, and then only after long hours of pursuit.... These forest sanctuaries, together with their own caution, have done more to stave off the extermination of the species than have all the sporting restrictions that have been introduced.

C. G. Schillings, phot.

THE TWO ELEPHANTS.]

C. G. Schillings, phot.

THE TUSKS OF THE ELEPHANTS SEEMED EVEN LARGER THAN THEY REALLY WERE, AND OUT OF All PROPORTION TO THE SIZE OF THE ELEPHANTS, THOUGH THESE WERE EXCEPTIONALLY BIG BEASTS, NEARLY 12 FEET IN HEIGHT. THE GIRAFFE COMES OUT CURIOUSLY IN THIS PICTURE, RIGHT AT THE BOTTOM.]

Every morning I returned to my post of observation on the hill. I could easily have killed one or other of the herd. But I did not wish to disturb the elephants, and I had also good reason for believing that there were no very large tusks among them. Morning after morning I returned disappointed to my camp, only to find my way back on the next day to my sentry-box at the edge of the forest on the hill. Days went by and nothing was seen save the back or head of an elephant emerging from the “subugo.” This “subugo” knows well how to protect its inmates.

Every morning the same performance. At my feet the mist-mantled forest, and near me my three or four blacks, to whom my reluctance to shoot the elephants and my preoccupation with my camera were alike inexplicable. Whenever the clouds rolled away over the woods and valley it was necessary to keep the strictest watch. Then I discovered smaller herds of giraffes with one or two elephants accompanying them. But this would be for a few seconds only. The heavy banks of cloud closed to again. A beautiful large dove (Columba aquatrix) flew about noisily, and like our ringdove, made its love-flights round about the hill, and cooed its deep notes close by. Down below in the valley echoed the beautiful, resonant, melancholy cry of the great grey shrike; cock and hen birds answered one another in such fashion that the call seemed to come from only one bird. There was no other living thing to see or hear.

But now! At last! I shall never forget how suddenly in one of the brilliant bursts of sunshine the mighty white tusks of two bull-elephants shone out in the hollow so dazzlingly white that one must have beheld them to understand their extraordinary effect, seen thus against that impressive background. Close by was a bull-giraffe. Vividly standing out from the landscape, they would have baffled any artist trying to put them on the canvas. I understood then why A. H. Neumann, one of the most skilful English elephant-hunters, so often remarked on the overwhelming impression he received from these snow-white, shining elephant-tusks. So white do they come out in the photographs that the prints look as though they had been touched up. But these astonishing pictures are as free from any such tampering as are all the rest of my studies of animal life.

Before I succeeded in getting my first picture of the elephants and giraffes consorting together, I was much tempted to kill the two huge bull-elephants. They came so often close to the foot of my hill that I had plenty of opportunities of killing them without over-much danger to myself or my men. As I caught sight of that rare trio I must honestly confess I had a strong desire to shoot. This desire gave way, however, before my still keener wish to photograph them. The temptation to use my rifle came from the thought of the satisfaction with which I should see them placed in some museum. It might be possible to prepare their skins here on this very spot. In short, I had a hard struggle with myself.

C. G. Shillings, phot.

THE TWO ELEPHANTS.]

C. G. Schillings, phot.

A QUAINT COMPANIONSHIP--ELEPHANT AND GIRAFFE. THE GIRAFFE MAY BE JUST MADE OUT IN THE FOREGROUND, AT THE BOTTOM OF THE PHOTOGRAPH.]