HUNTING ELEPHANTS

Greymouth Evening Star, 13 January 1928, Page 8

HUNTING ELEPHANTS

“BEASTS THAT NEVER FORGET.”

All men who have associated with the elephant folk agree that these great animals record all injuries and [take often a long, but a certain revenge. In this article, Mr W. S. Chadwick relates the Kaffir certainties about the wild elephants of the vast African forests. No less sure in their reprisals are the elephants of Ceylon, for instance, working peaceful and industrious comradeship with man. An injustice is remembered until the moment arrives, as when in the streets of Kandy an elephant suddenly threw down the mahout whom sit was following, set its great foot upon his hips, and, seizing his shoulders in its trunk, killed him. The other drives gravely said: “He did the elephant a wrong.” Their trumpeting awakened us from slee'p, and my friend Ben —a long, lean Australian—looked at his' watch and said: “Half-past two! They will have two hours and a half on us; but we must be after them at dawn.” We had camped about a mile from the pool where the 'elephants were now drinking, for three days past, awaiting their advent, after a week’s unsuccessful pursuit of this herd. During that week we had walked two hundred miles, but had always arrived at the water —weary and ex-hausted-after the elephants had left. The grey giants often cover sixty to eighty miles from water to water; travelling at about six miles an hour, and drinking always by night. If one picks .up spoor which is only a few hours old one may hope to come up with them on their feeding grounds at mid-day; when they usually sleep under the trees for several hours. But their scent is keen, and any suspicion that they are followed, sends them off at once at a pace no dismounted ■ man can maintain. At dawn we started along the broad elephant path, with “two boys” carrying water-bags, and some dried meat, while ten others followed a mile behind with their own food and our blankets. For an hour ,we marched in silence; for. there is something in tlie hush of the forest at dawn which forbids speech. An atmosphere like that of a great cathedral. For a mile we had been travelling through forest which looked as though a cyclone had passed that way. Trees broken down in all directions, with withered tops lying in the dust, and long, bare patches on the trunks from which sun-dried bark still hung in strips, were interspersed with others whose green foliage and glistening wet trunks showed where the forest kings had stripped the bark within the hour. For the elephant is a destructive feeder; with little idea of economy! So I was not surprised, as I followed my\ comrade’s pointing finger, to discern -a mighty, grey bulk, motionless under a large tree about a hundred yards ahead. With infinite care we ‘covered another 50. yards, for patience, as well as nerve and endurance, is demanded of the elephant hunter. Then we halted, and from where we stood we could count five grey shadows. Immediately in front was a large bull; while 50 yards to the left stood another. Turning to the native, Ben whispered: “Go to the right and count all you can see!” When the native returned, he reported twi only ahead of those we could see, which left two unaccounted for.- But Ben decided that we must “chance it,” and said to me: “Get over to the left and take the bull! Signal me when you’re ready. Turn him round first!” I nodded and moved over to the left with one native, and 30 yards before I came abreast of the bull, I halted him. Then I crept to with 30 paces of the great bulk which stood facing me, and signalled to the native. At the signal he moved softly to the right in a semi-circle, halted, and snapped a dry twig in his fingers. Instantly, two huge ears swung forward, and the keen-eared monarch stood listening. Again the “boy” moved onwards, and again a twig snapped. Slowly the great shape pivoted, and stood looking in the direction of the sound; while the native ‘froze’ to stillness. This brought him sidewise on to me, and gave me the long shot I desired. When one hunts for a living, a shot at an imaginary line between the eye and ear, to find a brain no larger than a Rugby football, and set in a huge, impenetrable mass of bone, is best avoided.

Raising my rifle, I gave Ben the signal; then sighted rapidly a foot behind the colossal shoulder, which

partly covered the heart. As Ben’s express rang out, my ,450 echoed the shot, and immediately the silent forest awoke to crashing, pulsating, furious life. A screaming pandemonium of trumpetings filled the air; trees and saplings crashed and shattered before the impact of mighty rushing forms, and the earth beneath seemed to shake and tremble under the living avalanche which swept upwind and away from us.

But the day was already past when I had stood, white and shaking, and bewildered, amidst the up: oar of the panic-stricken herds. I placed a second bullet in the bull I had fired at, and then concentrated anxious attention on mv rear. It was ’lucky that I did so, for as one of the missing animals —a cow — broke cover 30 yards away on my left, and followed the herd, the other —a young bull —charged directly down upon me from a clump of bush 50 yards in my rear. Hastily I sent two bullets through the chest exposed by the uncurled trunk, while the roar of Ben’s express came from my left hand as the bull swerved to the diagonal heart shot he had sent in. Then I heard his voice crying: “Run, lad! To my left!” And run I did. Five minutes later, we took up the trail of the herd. We had gone about two miles when a dry stick cracked like a pistol shot under my foot, and at the sound every grey form whirled into line, facing us. For a moment .they hesitated, thehn every trunk whirled skyward, and with shrill, vengeful trumpetings, they charged down upon us. As the native called “Look out, master:. They’re going to fight!” Ben said: “Aim at the centre bull and shoot fast; there is no other chance.”

Feeling like a beetle in the shadow of a> great boot, I worked my bolt frantically, aiming at the chest of the centre animal; which proved later, to be the bull I had originally fired at. Ben’s express crashed beside me, and at 20 paces our target stumbled and leant heavily towards the animals on his right. They gave ground, and the two on his left closed in; so that they wheeled like soldiers on parade and the flank animal passed within 11 yards of where I stood sweating in the cold shadow of death.

An hour later we found my bull dead, and it then appeared that my two bullets had failed to penetrate the hide owing to the scamping of the nickel by the ammunition manufacturers.

That night Ben heard “Mutaka” describing the charge to the [carriers, and expressing the conviction that we should one day be killed. Calling him over, he, said: “Why do you think I shall be killed, “Mutaka’?” “Master,” replied the native, “you kill often, and you are not afraid! The elephant people are wise. For him who kills seldom they do not seek, but when a man is known, the word goes forth in council. The strongest and bravest seek him. One day they snare him, and he dies!” And remembering the long list of expert hunters surprised and overwhelmed at last by the mad charge, for once my reckless friend forbore to laugh.