Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little HandHaggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
General
Maiwa's Revenge; Or, The War of the Little Hand
Haggard, H. Rider (Henry Rider)
Africa -- Fiction; Hunting guides -- Fiction; Quatermain, Allan (Fictitious character) -- Fiction; Revenge -- Fiction
“Well, the point was, how on earth should I get within shot of this
rhinoceros? After much deliberation I determined to try a side
approach, thinking that in this way I might get a shoulder shot.
Accordingly we started in a crouching attitude, I first, Gobo holding
on to my coat tails, and the other boy on to Gobo’s moocha. I always
adopt this plan when stalking big game, for if you follow any other
system the bearers will get out of line. We arrived within three
hundred yards safely enough, and then the real difficulties began. The
grass had been so closely eaten off by game that there was scarcely any
cover. Consequently it was necessary to go on to our hands and knees,
which in my case involved laying down the eight-bore at every step and
then lifting it up again. However, I wriggled along somehow, and if it
had not been for Gobo and his friend no doubt everything would have
gone well. But as you have, I dare say, observed, a native out stalking
is always of that mind which is supposed to actuate an ostrich—so long
as his head is hidden he seems to think that nothing else can be seen.
So it was in this instance, Gobo and the other boy crept along on their
hands and toes with their heads well down, but, though unfortunately I
did not notice it till too late, bearing the fundamental portions of
their frames high in the air. Now all animals are quite as suspicious
of this end of mankind as they are of his face, and of that fact I soon
had a proof. Just when we had got within about two hundred yards, and I
was congratulating myself that I had not had this long crawl with the
sun beating on the back of my neck like a furnace for nothing, I heard
the hissing note of the rhinoceros birds, and up flew four or five of
them from the brute’s back, where they had been comfortably employed in
catching tics. Now this performance on the part of the birds is to a
rhinoceros what the word ‘cave’ is to a schoolboy—it puts him on the
_qui vive_ at once. Before the birds were well in the air I saw the
grass stir.
“‘Down you go,’ I whispered to the boys, and as I did so the rhinoceros
got up and glared suspiciously around. But he could see nothing, indeed
if we had been standing up I doubt if he would have seen us at that
distance; so he merely gave two or three sniffs and then lay down, his
head still down wind, the birds once more settling on his back.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account