Part 1

IN WILDEST AFRICA

IN WILDEST AFRICA

BY C. G. SCHILLINGS AUTHOR OF “WITH FLASHLIGHT AND RIFLE IN EQUATORIAL EAST AFRICA”

TRANSLATED BY FREDERIC WHYTE

=WITH OVER 300 PHOTOGRAPHIC STUDIES DIRECT FROM THE AUTHOR’S NEGATIVES, TAKEN BY DAY AND NIGHT; AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS=

VOL. II

LONDON HUTCHINSON & CO. PATERNOSTER ROW 1907

Contents of Vol. II

CHAP PAGE

VIII. IN A PRIMEVAL FOREST 319

IX. AFTER ELEPHANTS WITH WANDOROBO 370

X. RHINOCEROS-HUNTING 431

XI. THE CAPTURING OF A LION 470

XII. A DYING RACE OF GIANTS 511

XIII. A VANISHING FEATURE OF THE VELT 550

XIV. CAMPING OUT ON THE VELT 578

XV. NIGHT PHOTOGRAPHY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 637

XVI. PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAY AND BY NIGHT 657

List of Illustrations in Vol. II

PAGE

Young Dwarf Antelope v

Cormorants vii

Spurred Geese 319

Views of Kilimanjaro 322, 323, 327

River-bed Vegetation on the Velt 331

A Fisherman’s Bag 335

Clatter-bills 340, 341

A Marsh-land View 346

Snow-white Herons 347

A Pair of Crested Cranes 349

A Snake-vulture 349

Preparing to Skin a Hippopotamus 352

Hippopotami Swimming 353

Head of a Hippopotamus 357

A Wandorobo Chief 359

Egyptian Geese 364

A Wounded Buffalo 365

Hunting Record-card 367

A Sea-gull 369

A Masai throwing his Spear 370

A Hippopotamus on his way to the Swamp _facing_ 370

Oryx Antelopes 374

Waterbuck 375

Wandorobo Guides on the March 380

A Party of Wandorobo Hunters 381

A Feast of Honey 386

Acacia-tree denuded by Elephants 387

An Oryx Antelope’s Methods of Defence 389

A Dwarf Kudu 390

Zebras 392

Giraffe Studies 392

Zebras on the open Velt 393

Laden Masai Donkeys 397

Pearl-hens on an Acacia-tree 393

A pair of Grant’s Gazelles taking to Flight _facing_ 398

Grant’s Gazelles 402

A Good Instance of Protective Colouring 402

Grant’s Gazelles 403, 408, 409

Young Masai Hartebeest 411

A Herd of Hartebeests 414

Hartebeests with Young 415

Waterbuck 415

The Skinning of an Elephant 420, 421

A Missionary’s Dwelling 424

Elephants killed by the Author 426, 427

Some African Trophies 429

Black-headed Herons 431

Rhinoceros Heads 434, 435

An Eland Bull _facing_ 438

An Eland, just before the Finishing Shot 441

An Eland Bull 445

Rhinoceroses, with and without Horns 450, 451

Snapshot of a Rhinoceros at twenty paces 455

Shelter from a Rhinoceros 459

An Emaciated Rhinoceros 461

Specimen of Stone against which Rhinoceroses whet their Horns 463

A “Rhino” in sitting posture _facing_ 464

A Rock-pool on Kilimanjaro 467

Masai Killing a Hyena with Clubs 470

The Moods of a Lion Cub 472, 473

Record of a Lion-hunt 479

A Lion at Bay 483

Studies of a Trapped Lion 485

The Lion ... had dragged the Trap some distance _facing_ 488

Carrying a Live Lion to Camp 489

A Captured Lioness 492

A Trapped Lion roaring 493

Flashlight Photograph of a Lion 495

Photograph of a Lion at five paces 499

Hauling a Live Hyena into Camp 501

Hyena Chained up in Camp 505

Masai making game of a Trapped Hyena 507

Specimens of Elephant-tusks 511

Record Elephant-tusks 513

A Store of Elephant-tusks 517

Auk and Auk’s Egg 521

Thicket frequented by Elephants 525

Velt Fires 532, 533

An old Acacia-tree 537

Studies of Elephants in Dense Forest Growth _facing_ 540

Elephants and Giraffe--a Quaint Companionship 544, 545

A Young Lion 549

Study in Protective “Mimicry” 550

Giraffe Studies 552, 553; 558, 559; 564, 565

Giraffes in Characteristic Surroundings _facing_ 568

Head of a Giraffe 569

Giraffe Studies 574, 575

_Giraffa schillingsi_, Mtsch. _facing_ 576

Crested Cranes on the Wing 577

Hungry Vultures 578

Pitching Camp 579

My Taxidermist at Work 581

Termite Ant-hills 583

An unusually large Ant-hill 587

Prince Löwenstein 589

Destroying an Ant-hill with Pick and Shovel 590

Serving out Provisions 592

Bearer’s Wife preparing a Meal 592

Young Baboons in front of my Tent 593

Young Ostriches 593

Marabou Nests 595, 598

Feathered members of my Camp 599

A rather Mixed-up Photograph 601

My Rhinoceros: in the Berlin “Zoo” and on the Velt 606, 607

How my captive “Rhino” was Carried to Camp 612

Carrying a Dead Leopard 612

My “Rhino” and her Two Companions 613

A Young Hyena extracted from its Lair 613

Vultures: On the Wing 618 Hovering over a Carcase 619 Moving away from a Carcase 621

My Pelicans 623

A Siesta in Camp 625

A Strange Friendship 628

“Fatima” Prowling Round 629

Carrying a fine Leopard 631

Killing Game in accordance with Mohammedan rites 633

Cutting up the Carcase 633

A Trapped Leopard 635

The Baboon and the Little Black Lady 636

Moonlight on the Velt _facing_ 636

A Fowl of the Velt 637

A River-horse Resort 639

One of the Peaks of Donje-Erok 641

Drawing Water for the March 643

Vultures 645

Flashlight Photographs 648, 649

My Night-apparatus in position 653

A Pet of the Caravan 654

A Baobab-tree 655

Flashlight Photograph of a Mongoose 657

Apparatus for Night Photography 660, 661

Vultures contesting the Possession of Carrion 665

First Dry-plate Photograph, probably, ever taken in the African Desert 667

Photographic Mishaps: Cracked Glass Plate 669 Plate Exposed Twice 673

Telephotograph of Ostriches 677

Photographs of Birds taken at distances varying from 20 to 200 paces 681

Telephotographs of Birds on the Wing 683

Dwarf Gazelle, photographed at sixty paces 684

Jackal taking to Flight, startled by the Flashlight 685

Lioness frightened away from Carcase by the Flashlight _facing_ 688

Aiming at a Pigeon and Hitting a Crow! _facing_ 688

Hand-camera Photograph of a Jackal 689

Photograph of a Jackal taken with my first Night-apparatus 689

Flashlight Photography: my Native Models 691

Flashlight Failures 694, 695; 697, 698

Photographic Studies of Antelopes shot by the Author 699

Jackals _facing_ 702

East-African Antelopes shot by the Author 703

More Antelopes 707

Spotted and Striped Hyenas and Jackal 711

A Jackal in full Flight 713

Guinea-fowl 715

Farewell to Africa 716

VIII

In a Primeval Forest

Scenes of marvellous beauty open out before the wanderer who follows the windings of some great river through the unknown regions of Equatorial East Africa.

The dark, turbid stream is to find its way, after a thousand twists and turns, into the Indian Ocean. Filterings from the distant glaciers of Kilimanjaro come down into the arid velt, there to form pools and rivulets that traverse in part the basin of the Djipe Lake and at last are merged in the Rufu River. As is so often the case with African rivers, the banks of the Rufu are densely wooded throughout its long course, the monotony of which is broken by a number of rapids and one big waterfall. Save in those rare spots where the formation of the soil is favourable to their growth, the woods do not extend into the velt. Trees and shrubs alike become parched a few steps away from the sustaining river. The abundance of fish in the river is tremendous in its wilder reaches--inexhaustible, it would seem, despite the thousands of animal enemies. The river continually overflows its banks, and the resulting swamps give such endless opportunities for spawning that at times every channel is alive with fry and inconceivable multitudes of small fishes.

It is only here and there and for short stretches that the river is lost in impenetrable thickets. Marvellous are those serried ranks of trees! marvellous, too, the sylvan galleries through which more usually it shapes its way! They take the eye captive and seem to withhold some unsuspected secret, some strange riddle, behind their solid mass of succulent foliage. It is strange that these primeval trees should still survive in all their strength with all the parasitic plants and creepers that cling to them, strangling them in their embrace. You would almost say that they lived on but as a prop to support the plants and creepers in their fight for life. Convolvuli, white and violet, stoop forward over the water, and the golden yellow acacia blossoms brighten the picture.

In the more open reaches dragonflies and butterflies glisten all around us in the moist atmosphere. A grass-green tree-snake glides swiftly through the branches of a shrub close by. A Waran (_Waranus niloticus_) runs to the water with a strange sudden rustle through the parched foliage. Everywhere are myriads of insects. Wherever you look, the woods teem with life. These woods screen the river from the neighbouring velt, the uniformity of which is but seldom broken in upon by patches of vegetation. The character of the flora has something northern about it to the unlearned eye, as is the case so often in East Africa. It is only when you come suddenly upon the Dutch palms (_Borassus æthiopicus_, Mart., or the beautiful _Hyphæne thebaica_, Mart.) that you feel once again that you are in the tropics.

The river now makes a great curve round to the right. A different kind of scene opens out to the gaze--a great stretch of open country. In the foreground the mud-banks of the stream are astir with huge crocodiles gliding into the water and moving about this way and that, like tree-trunks come suddenly to life. Now they vanish from sight, but only to take up their position in ambush, ready to snap at any breathing thing that comes unexpectedly within their reach. Doubtless they find it the more easy to sink beneath the surface of the river by reason of the great number of sometimes quite heavy stones they have swallowed, and have inside them. I have sometimes found as much as seven pounds of stones and pebbles in the stomach of a crocodile.

The deep reaches of the river are their special domain. Multitudes of birds frequent the shallows, knowing from experience that they are safe from their enemy. One of the most interesting things that have come under my observation is the way these birds keep aloof from the deep waters which the crocodiles infest. I have mentioned it elsewhere, but am tempted to allude to it once again.

Our attention is caught by the wonderful wealth of bird-life now spread out before us in every direction. Here comes a flock of the curious clatter-bills (_Anastomus lamelligerus_, Tem.) in their simple but attractive plumage. They have come in quest of food. Hundreds of other marsh-birds of all kinds have settled on the outspread branches of the trees, and enable us to distinguish between their widely differing notes.

Among these old trees that overhang the river, covered with creepers and laden with fruit of quaint shape, are Kigelia, tamarinds, and acacias. In amongst the dense branches a family of Angolan guereza apes (_Colobus palliatus_, Ptrs.) and a number of long-tailed monkeys are moving to and fro. Now a flock of snowy-feathered herons (_Herodias garzetta_, L., and _Bubulcus ibis_, L.) flash past, dazzlingly white--two hundred of them, at least--alighting for a moment on the brittle branches and pausing in their search for food. Gravely moving their heads about from side to side, they impart a peculiar charm to the trees. Now another flock of herons (_Herodias alba_, L.), also dazzlingly white, but birds of a larger growth, speed past, flying for their lives. Why is it that even here, in this remote sanctuary of animal life, within which I am the first European trespasser, these beautiful birds are so timorous? Who can answer that question with any certainty? All we know is, that it has come to be their nature to scour about from place to place in perpetual flight. Perhaps in other lands they have made acquaintance with man’s destructiveness. Perhaps they are endowed with keener senses than their smaller snow-white kinsfolk, which suffer us to approach so near, and which, like the curious clatter-bill (which have never yet been seen in captivity), evince no sign of shyness--nothing but a certain mild surprise--at the sight of man.

Now, with a noisy clattering of wings, those less comely creatures, the Hagedasch ibises, rise in front of us, filling the air with their extraordinary cry: “Heiha! Ha heiha!”

Now we have a strange spectacle before our eyes--a number of wild geese, perched upon the trees. The great, heavy birds make several false starts before they make up their minds to escape to safety. They present a beautiful sight as they make off on their powerful wings. They are rightly styled “spurred geese,” by reason of the sharp spurs they have on their wings. Hammerheads (_Scopus umbretta_, Gm.) move about in all directions. A colony of darters now comes into sight, and monopolises my attention. A few of their flat-shaped nests are visible among the pendent branches of some huge acacias, rising from an island in mid-stream. While several of the long-necked fishing-birds seek safety in flight, others--clearly the females--remain seated awhile on the eggs in their nests, but at last, with a sudden dart, take also to their wings and disappear. Beneath the nesting-places of these birds I found great hidden shaded cavities, the resorts for ages past of hippopotami, which find a safe and comfortable haven in these small islands.

The dark forms of these fishing-birds present a strange appearance in full flight. They speed past you swiftly, looking more like survivals from some earlier age than like birds of our own day. There is a suggestion of flying lizards about them. Here they come, describing a great curve along the river’s course, at a fair height. They are returning to their nests, and as they draw near I get a better chance of observing the varying phases of their flight.

But look where I may, I see all around me a wealth of tropical bird-life. Snow-white herons balance themselves on the topmost branches of the acacias. Barely visible against the deep-blue sky, a brood-colony of wood ibis pelicans (_Tantalus ibis_, L.) fly hither and thither, seeking food for their young. Other species of herons, notably the black-headed heron, so like our own common heron (_Ardea melanocephala_, Vig., Childr.), and further away a great flock of cow-herons (_Bubulcus ibis_, L.), brooding on the acacias upon the island, attract my attention. Egyptian Kingfishers (_Ceryle rudis_, L.) dart down to the water’s edge, and return holding tiny fishes in their beaks to their perch above.

The numbers and varieties of birds are in truth almost bewildering to the spectator. Here is a marabou which has had its midday drink and is keeping company for the moment with a pair of fine-looking saddled storks (_Ephippiorhynchus senegalensis_, Shaw); there great regiments of crested cranes; single specimens of giant heron (_Ardea goliath_, Cretzschm.) keep on the look-out for fish in a quiet creek; on the sandbanks, and in among the thickets alongside, a tern (_Œdicnemus vermiculatus_, Cab.) is enjoying a sense of security. Near it are gobbling Egyptian geese and small plovers. A great number of cormorants now fly past, some of them settling on the branches of a tree which has fallen into the water. They are followed by Tree-geese (_Dendrocygna viduata_, L.), some plovers and night-herons, numerous sea-swallows as well as seagulls; snipe (_Gallinago media_, Frisch.), and the strange painted snipe (_Rostratula bengalensis_, L.), the _Actophylus africanus_, and marsh-fowl (_Ortygometra pusilla obscura_, Neum.), spurred lapwing (_Hoplopterus speciosus_, Lcht.), and many other species. Now there rings out, distinguishable from all the others, the clear cry--to me already so familiar and so dear--of the screeching sea-eagle, that most typical frequenter of these riverside regions of Africa and so well meriting its name. A chorus of voices, a very Babel of sound, breaks continually upon the ear, for the varieties of small birds are also well represented in this region. The most beautiful of all are the cries of the organ-shrike and of the sea-eagle. The veritable concerts of song, however, that you hear from time to time are beyond the powers of description, and can only be cherished in the memory.