In Somaliland, one of the favourite amusements of his party was riding out, mounted on light Somali ponies, to bait wild elephants. Their _shikaries_ would perhaps locate a couple of the animals in a small clump of trees, where they were resting during the heat of the day. One of the party would then ride up and fire a pistol at one of them. The result, of course, would be a scream of rage, and a furious charge by the insulted animal. Horse and rider would at once make themselves scarce. The elephant would seldom charge more than 100 yards or so away from cover, but at that distance, or under, would halt and then slowly return, thus giving another member of the party a chance. With a wild shout another horse and rider would gallop at full speed across the elephant’s path, just out of reach. Round would come the huge beast in another attempt to put an end to what it justly considered a nuisance—an attempt foredoomed to failure. One after another the horsemen would gallop up to the now thoroughly infuriated beast, shouting and firing pistols, provoking ugly rushes first at one and then another of them—for all the world like a lot of schoolboys playing touch. Sometimes one or other of them had a narrow escape, but somebody would nip in at the critical moment and divert the elephant’s attention. A slip or a fall would have meant a horrible death from the feet and tusks of the enraged pachyderm; but the ponies were as agile as their riders, and enjoyed the fun every whit as much. We had no ponies, and playing with elephants in that manner would not have been sufficiently amusing when mounted on a mule, which had a habit of violently shying whenever it was urged faster than a moderate trot. El Hakim once had a very unpleasant experience through this mule’s aggravating peculiarity. He was riding ahead of the safari, when he noticed a herd of elephants feeding a mile or so in front. Taking his rifle from the bearer, he trotted after them. The elephants moved slowly on, and disappeared over a ridge some distance ahead. El Hakim urged the mule faster, but, in spite of his efforts, on gaining the top of the ridge, he had the mortification of seeing his quarry moving off at an ever-increasing speed. Fearing that he would lose them after all, he jammed his spurs into the mule, and raced away down the slope for all he was worth.