nto "his sunshine," and
flinging its dark shadow over the vley, was distinct enough, and caused
the kobaoba to get to his feet with an agility quite surprising for a
creature of his build.

At the same time a noise, something between a grunt and a whistle
escaped him, as the water was ejected from his nostrils.

The elephant also uttered his peculiar salute in a trumpet note, that
echoed from the cliffs and halted in his tracks as soon as he saw the
rhinoceros.

No doubt both were surprised at the rencontre as both stood for some
seconds eyeing each other with apparent astonishment.

This, however, soon gave place to a different feeling. Symptoms of
anger began to show themselves. It was evident that bad blood was
brewing between them.

There was, in fact, a little dilemma. The elephant could not get
comfortably at the water unless the rhinoceros left the cove; and the
rhinoceros could not well get out of the cove, so long as the elephant
blocked up the gorge with his immense thick limbs.

It is true, the kobaoba might have sneaked through among the other's
legs, or he might have swum off and landed at some other point, and in
either way have left the coast clear.

But of all animals in the world a rhinoceros is, perhaps, the most
unaccommodating. He is, also, one of the most fearless, dreading
neither man nor beast--not even the boasted lion, whom he often chases
like a cat. Hence the old kobaoba had no intention of yielding ground
to the elephant; and from his attitude, it was plain that he neither
intended to sneak off under the other's belly, nor swim a single stroke
for him. No--not a stroke.

It remained to be seen how the point of honour was to be decided. The
attitude of affairs had become so interesting, that every one by the
camp was gazing with fixed eyes upon the two great bulls--for the
rhinoceros was also a "bull" and of the largest size known of his kind.

For several minutes they stood eyeing each other. The elephant,
although much the larger, knew his antagonist well. He had met his
"sort" before, and knew better than to despise his powers. Perhaps, ere
now, he had had a touch of that long spit-like excrescence that stood
out from the kobaoba's snout.

At all events, he did not rush upon his adversary at once--as he would
have done on some poor antelope that might have crossed him in the same
way.

His patience, however, became exhausted. His ancient dignity was
insulted--his r