"Faro! faro!" he cried excitedly, and on John asking where the rhinoceros was, he pointed a few yards ahead, where, almost hidden by the grass, lay a huge bull animal right across the path, and apparently asleep. The white men had brought only their double-barrelled rifles, which were not the best of weapons for shooting rhinoceros, and John, having no licence for such big game, though Ferrier had, ordered the natives to shout, hoping that this would scare the beast away. When it remained unmoved he went to the river-bank on the right, and breaking off some clods of earth, flung them at the slumberous creature, which completely blocked the way. But this proving ineffectual ("It’s like shooting peas at a Dreadnought" said John) there was nothing for it but to try a rifle shot. Ferrier went forward, cocked his rifle and fired, aiming at the brain; but though he was ordinarily a dead shot, his right arm had not yet fully recovered, and he missed. The rhinoceros was now thoroughly awake; snorting angrily, he sprang to his feet with extraordinary nimbleness for so unwieldy a brute, and after a glance round came charging full at Ferrier. He fired his second barrel, and this time hit; but the shot had no effect except to make the beast more furious, and Ferrier turned and bolted for his life. All the other members of the party except John had turned tail and fled away shrieking at the first moment of the animal’s rising. John, licence or no licence, let fly with both barrels in rapid succession; whether he hit or not he could not tell; certainly he failed to check the charging beast, which made with lowered head straight for Ferrier. All this had happened in a few seconds. Ferrier was running hard, but it was clear that the rhinoceros must soon overtake him, and John knew that one blow from those terrible horns would inflict a fatal gash. His hand shaking with nervous anxiety, he reloaded, but when he lifted the rifle to his shoulder he saw that he could not strike a fatal spot, the animal being directly between him and his friend. He ran after them, hoping for some chance to give him a shot. At this moment Ferrier became aware that the rhinoceros was almost within tossing distance, and leaving the path made a sudden swerve to the right, plunging into the long grass. The animal immediately turned to pursue him, for the first time presenting his flank to John. It was a ticklish moment. John knew that his friend’s life probably depended on his coolness. He steadied himself, took aim at a spot behind the beast’s shoulder, and fired. He heard the thud of the bullet, but for a moment feared it had not penetrated the tough hide. The rhinoceros made a half-turn as if to charge his new assailant, and John, glad that he had at least diverted the pursuit from Ferrier, was preparing to fire his second barrel when the great form staggered, recovered itself, made two tottering strides, and then fell over on its side.