trees. The pole and the canopy of the hammock tangled inextricably its
occupant.

A ragged volley from the muskets of the _askaris_ merely seemed to add to
the confusion. With great coolness the Nubian discharged first one barrel
then the other of the heavy rifle he carried. The recoil, catching him in
a bad posture, knocked him backward. The bullets kicked up a tremendous
dust part way between himself and the charging beast. He was now without
defence. Nevertheless he stepped in front of the entangled struggling
figure on the ground.

Before the appearance of the rhinoceros into the open Kingozi had
exchanged rifles, and stood at the ready. He was a good hundred yards from
the hammock. Even in the rush of events he, characteristically, found time
for comments, although they did not in the least interfere with his rapid
movements.

"Hope they don't wing one another," he remarked of the _askaris'_ volley.
"Rotten shooting! rotten!" as the Nubian stood his ground. At the same
time he pushed forward the safety catch and threw the heavy rifle to his
shoulder.

A charging rhinoceros--or one rushing near enough a man's direction to be
dangerous--is not a difficult problem. Given nerve enough, and barring
accidents--which might happen in a London flat--a man is in no danger. If
he opens fire too soon, indeed, he is likely to empty his weapon without
inflicting a stopping wound, but if he will wait until the beast is within
twenty yards or so, the affair is certain. For this reason: just before a
rhinoceros closes, he drops his head low in order to bring his long horn
into action. If the hunter fires then, over the horn, he will strike the