nced there was no chance
of seeing sport with these cock-tail gentry, who, it is almost needless
to add, saw nothing of the wild animal, and returned soon to their
nerve-steadying specific. The leopard had been seen retreating by two
Kaffirs, who happened to be passing on the opposite side, immediately we
entered the bush: we could not have been within 300 yards of the
monster, therefore, at any time.
With most South-African sportsmen the elephant is one of the last of the
wild animals which he is fortunate enough to see: it was my first. The
view was not a long one, still it is well impressed on my memory.
I received a note one morning before breakfast from a true sportsman,
informing me that he knew of a large herd of elephants in the Berea,
and, if I would join him, he hoped that we might get a shot at them.
This proposition, from our ignorance of all the artifices necessary in
the bush, was rather rash, as elephant-shooting is always dangerous
sport, and when attempted by novices on foot in a dense bush against a
very savage herd, it becomes still more so.
Elephants are generally hunted in Africa on horseback. The Dutchmen,
who frequently obtain their living by this sport only, are amongst the
most accomplished hands; they make periodical trips into the uninhabited
districts, or where elephants are numerous, and the country open or
park-like. When a herd of elephants is discovered, these Boers make a
plan of attack, either to drive the herd of game to a better and more
open country, or to prevent them from retreating to the dense bushes
near. As soon as everything suits, they mark out the leader of the
troop, generally the biggest bull-elephant. They then ride up as near
as they dare, and give him a volley; if he falls, they can manage the
remainder more easily, as, missing their chief, some confusion takes
place. Should he, however, be only wounded, turn savage, and charge, as
is most frequently the case, they close together, and gallop away for a
hundred yards or so, when, at a given signal, they separate, and ride
round in different directions. This diversion generally puzzles the
elephant, and, before he has made up his mind what to do, another
broadside is poured into him. Two or three volleys are generally
sufficient to quiet the big bull. I have been assured by many old
elephant-hunters that they have frequently seen a herd of elephants
stand with their heads together, after the leader has been
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