his quarry has been
secured. The ivory has still to be disposed of, and it is not always
safe to attempt to sell in the territory where the game has been shot.
The area of no man's land in Africa has long since been a diminishing
quantity, and the promiscuous shooting of elephants is not encouraged.
It becomes necessary, therefore, to study the question of markets, and
the successful hunter finds it convenient to vary the spheres of his
activities continually.

Not the least of the assets of these men is the knowledge they have of
the native and the hold they have obtained over them. That man will go
farthest who relies on the respect rather than on the fear he inspires.
The latter may go a long way, but unless it has the former to support
it, the chances are against it sooner or later. One man I know of owed
his life more than once to his devotion to a small stick that walking,
sitting or lying he never allowed out of his hand. The native mind came
to attach magical powers to the stick, and consequently to the man
himself. On one eventful journey when he had gone farther afield than
his wont, and farther than his native porters cared to accompany him,
symptoms of mutiny made their appearance. A council was held as to
whether he should be murdered or not; he was fortunate enough to
overhear it. The only possible deterrent seemed to be a dread of the
magical stick, but the two ringleaders affected to make light of it.
Realising that the time had come for decisive action, the white man
summoned the company, told them that his stick had revealed the plot to
him and warned them of the danger they ran. To clinch his argument he
offered to allow the ringleaders to return home, taking the stick with
them; but told them that they would be dead within twenty-four hours,
and the stick would come back to him. To his dismay they accepted the
challenge, and for him there could be no retreat. In desperation he
poisoned the food they were to take with them, and awaited developments.
The two natives set off early in the morning. By the afternoon they were
back again, and with them the stick. In the solitude of their homeward
trek their courage had oozed out; they feared the magic, and fortunately
had not touched the poisoned provisions. In the feasting that had to
celebrate this satisfactory denouement it was possible to substitute
other food for that which had been taken on the abortive journey. Magic
or the fear of it had saved the