seemed as though nearly all of the eight
hundred varieties of East African birds gave us a morning serenade. A
five-minutes' walk from camp would show you a rhino, while from the top
of any knoll one could look across a vast sweep of hills upon which
almost countless numbers of zebras, kongoni, and other animals might be
seen.

But never a lion. It certainly looked discouraging.

As a form of pleasant excitement, we began to photograph rhinos, Mr.
Akeley took out his moving-picture machine, advanced it cautiously to
within a few yards of the unsuspecting rhino, and then we tried to
provoke a charge. We took a dozen or more rhinos in this way, often
approaching to within a few yards, and if there is any more exciting
diversion I don't know what it is. I've looped the loop and there is no
comparison. It is more like being ambushed by Filipino insurgents--that
is, it's the same kind of excitement, with more danger.

One day it was necessary to shoot a big bull rhino. He staggered and
fell, but at once got up and trotted over a hill. Having wounded him, it
was then necessary for me to follow him, which I did for three blazing
hours. From nine o'clock till twelve I followed, with the sun beating
down on the dry, grass-covered hills as though it meant to burn up
everything beneath it. If any one had asked me, "Is it hot enough for
you?" I should have answered "Yes" without a moment's hesitation. The
horizon shimmered in waves of heat. From the top of one hill I could see
my rhino half a mile away on the slope of another. When I reached the
slope he was a mile farther on. I began to think he was a mirage. For a
wounded animal, with two five-hundred-grain shells in his shoulder, he
was the most astonishing example of vitality I have ever seen. He would
have been safe against a Gatling gun. There were more low trees a mile
farther on, and I plodded doggedly on in the hope of getting a little
relief from the sun. As I drew near I noticed a rhino standing under the
trees, but he was not the wounded one. I decided that the shade was
insufficient for both of us and moved swiftly on. Across the valley on
the slope of another blistered hill stood the one I was looking for. He
didn't seem to be in the chastened mood of one who is about to die. He
seemed vexed about something, probably the two cordite shells he was
carrying. I at last came up within a hundred yards of him. He had got my
wind and was facing me with tail nervously erect