IN CUEST OF IVORY.

Otago Daily Times, Issue 20452, 5 July 1928, Page 5

IN CUEST OF IVORY.

STALKING THE ELEPHANT. THE SPORT FOR THRILLS. RISKING LIFE AND FORTUNE. It is romantic to believe, says an Eng* glish writer, that hundreds of huge elephant tusks which formed the greater part cf 50 tons of ivory sold not long ago in London —to be manufactured into such unromantic articles as umbrella handles, billiard balls, and hairbrush backs—were unearthed by savages in ancient elephant graveyards, secret haunts in the depths of Africa’s primeval jungles where old bull elephants, knowing their last trek is near, wander lone, and shrilly trumpeting, from the tusker herd, to die. In cold, truth, no such elephant graveyard has ever been discovered. Nor do the old bull tuskers all go to a certain secret place when they die. More often they haunt the dense forest near native plantations, furiously attacking anyone they scent or sec, raiding the black man’s grain fields by night until some white hunter is appealed to by the village headman to shoot the nzogu, as the natives call the tusker, arid so put an end to the hullaballoo he makes. Even were an elephant graveyard found, the hoard of tusks which one might find would be practically valueless to ivory dealers. The huge tusks, some measuring £> feet long and weighing lewt apiece, which dealers from all over the world bought in London at an average price of f 110 per hundredweight, OT per ib. were new “ green ” tusks from elephants aiiot within the past year or so. USELESS "GRAVEYARD" TUSKS. Tusks left on the ground, as they would would be in a '' graveyard,” exposed to the dew, rain, mould, white ante, hyenas, and festering heat of the tropic jungle, are found split and cracked from hull to tip, and such tusks, when picked ,up, often crumble to bits. Some ivory, it is true, is brought in by natives who find a dead elephant in the bush thickets or who, in defiance of the game laws, trap a raider elephant in a pitfall, shoot him with poisoned arrows, or knock him senseless with a spiked log set with a tripline in the forest trees so that it comes crashing down on bis head as he blunders by. Under the ivory laws all such tusks belong to' the Government, and must _be taken to the Game Department, which, if the tusks are honestly come by, pays the native hunters a reward, the ivory being sold by auction, usually to Hindu traders who consign it to the Indian and European markets.

But the world’s best ivory comes from elephants shot by white men—professional elephant hunters—who, risking life, health, and fortune, hunt the great tuskers in the forest depths of Africa’s back o’ beyond. DECREASE AND AN INCREASE. It is often said that elephants are becoming extinct. In Abyssinia, where, the tribes hunt elephants with veld-ponies, galloping the herds to a weary 'standstill and then slaughtering bull, cow, and calf elephants indiscriminately, the elephant is disappearing. In British Africa, where strict game laws rigidly preserve the elephants, herds are on the increase in such numbers that that are even a menace to planters, and in East Africa alone it is estimated that over 50,000 elephants still roam the bush. To track down one of these big tusker herds is not difficult, since news of their whereabouts can always be gained. from native villages. If the herd be on the move they may be heard a mile or more away crashing in the forest, the cows trumpeting and the calves squealing. ■ But to shoot a payable elephant when one has found the herd is not a simple matter. Cow elephants with tusks weighing less than 301 b must not be shot, under the hunting laws, and, since a license to shoot two bull elephants costs £3O, bulls with good big tusks must be picked out to get back that fee and the heavy expenses of the trip, and still leave a profit for the hunter.

TRAMPLING SAPLINGS LIKE ' GRASS. This usually means crawling into the forest right among the herd, which, should they scent the hunter, may give a few warning snorts, then throw nigh their trunks, stick out their tails, trumpet shrill defiance, and stampede like gigantic railway engines all over the place, uprooting trees and bushes, trampling big saplings like grass, ready to gore the hunter, kneel on him, and crush him into pulp and then heave him over the tree-tops with their great trunks, should they sight him with their angry, piggy eyes. Even if he does not rush about, a big old bull carrying large ivory is a puzzler to shoot, for his ears, flapping unceasingly to keep the nzogu-flies from his eyes and lips, are usually so torn and tattered that a fringe of ragged lobe goes flickflack about his head, hiding the only two spots in his huge skull where the hunter can put in a fatal shot. Some cunning old bulls will stand stock still, so motionless and silent that you can stare them in the face at a distance of six feet and hot see them at all. so perfectly do their sap-stained tusks and corrugated mud-splashed hide 44 fade ” into the tangle of leaves and tree trunks. With so big an animal as an elephant it would seem impossible for a hunter to shoot at him and miss him. But to hit an elephant with a bullet does not mean that he will fall dead. GOING NIGHT AND DAY, There are only two certain fatal head shots which will drop an elephant in its tracks. Put a bullet into the third wrinkle down his trunk, or midway between his eyes and the base of his huge ear, and he should stop, with the impact, then sway and go crashing to the ground. ' ■ Fumble the shot, and the mil will either charge with a fiendish fury, unbelievable until experienced, or he will trumpet to his herd, and the whole lot will stampede. Then, if the hunter gets away alive he is faced with a heartbreaking trek. Startled elephants plunging into the forest depths will go night and. day, covering 40 miles and more in 24 hours. Unless the hunter wants to lose them for good, he must keep pace, giving up all thought of camp, meals, and sleep until he comes up with them. Turning on his trail, the hunter sets out 100 or more miles on foot back to the nearest town, where he will trade his ivory for about half the pircs it fetches in the London markets. There are his native porters who have humped his tent, chop-boxes, camp kit, guns, and ammunition, to be paid off at the rate of Is a day, and, since at least 15 to 20 porters are needed for a trip, their wages make a big hole in the ivory hunter’s profits.