He repeatedly backed, and then charged forward upon it with
all his might; and, to say the truth, it looked for some time as though
he would succeed.

"Several of the lesser cones were knocked over by his powerful blows;
and the hard tough clay yielded before his sharp horns, used by him as
inverted pickaxes. In several places I could see that he had laid open
the chambers of the insects, or rather the ways and galleries that are
placed in the outer crust of the hill.

"With all this I felt no fear. I was under the belief that he would
soon exhaust his rage and go away; and then I could descend without
danger. But after watching him a good long spell, I was not a little
astonished to observe that, instead of cooling down, he seemed to grow
more furious than ever. I had taken out my handkerchief to wipe the
perspiration off my face. It was as hot as an oven where I sat. Not a
breath of air was stirring, and the rays of the sun, glaring right down
and then reflecting up again from the white clay, brought the
perspiration out of me in streams. Every minute I was obliged to rub my
eyes clear of it with the handkerchief.

"Now, before passing the kerchief over my face, I always shook it open;
and each time I did so, I noticed that the rage of the wildebeest seemed
to be redoubled! In fact, at such times he would leave off goring the
heap, and make a fresh attempt to rush up at me, roaring his loudest as
he charged against the steep wall!

"I was puzzled at this, as well as astonished. What could there be in
my wiping my face to provoke the wildebeest anew? And yet such was
clearly the case. Every time I did so, he appeared to swell with a
fresh burst of passion!

"The explanation came at length. I saw that it was not the wiping off
the perspiration that provoked him. It was the shaking out of my
handkerchief. This was, as you know, of a bright scarlet colour. I
thought of this, and then, for the first time, remembered having heard
that anything scarlet has a most powerful effect upon the wildebeest,
and excites him to a rage resembling madness.

"I did not wish to keep up his fury. I crumpled up the handkerchief and
buried it in my pocket--preferring to endure the perspiration rather
than remain there any longer. By hiding the scarlet, I conceived a hope
he would the sooner cool down, and go away.

"But I had raised a devil in him too fierce to be so easily laid. He
showed no signs of cooling down