brick red in colour. When I had collected myself I saw it was a wild
dog. It had been asleep in a warm hollow of red clay, and had not
awakened until I was fairly upon it. We had heard these beasts nearly
every night, but this was the first we had seen. Some days later we came
upon the entire pack drinking at the river. They leapt suddenly across
our front eighty yards away, their heads all turned towards us
truculently, barking at us like so many watch dogs. They made off, but
not as though particularly alarmed.

* * * * *

One afternoon I had wounded a good wart-hog across the river, and had
gone downstream to find a dry way over. F., more enthusiastic, had
plunged in and promptly attacked the wart-hog. He was armed with the
English service revolver shooting the.455 Ely cartridge. It is a very
short, stubby bit of ammunition. I had often cast doubt on its driving
power as compared to the.45 Colt, for example. F., as a loyal
Englishman, had, of course, defended his army's weapon. When I reached
the centre of disturbance I found that F. had emptied his revolver three
times--eighteen shots--into the head and forequarters of that wart-hog
without much effect. Incidentally the wart-hog had given him a good
lively time, charging again and again. The weapon has not nearly the
shock power of even our.38 service--a cartridge classified as too light
for serious business.

* * * * *

One afternoon I gave my shotgun to one of the porters to carry afield,
remarking facetiously to all and sundry that he looked like a gunbearer.
After twenty minutes we ran across a rhinoceros. I spent some time