the land of footprints-第45节

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　of　sport；　but　for　the　purposes　of　relaxation。　If　offered　a　gift　he　always　examined　it　seriously　before　finally　accepting　it；　turning　it　over　and　over　in　his　hands；　and　considering　it　with　wrinkled　brow。　If　you　offered　anything　to　Funny　Face；　no　matter　what；　he　dashed　up；　seized　it　on　the　fly；　departed　at　speed　uttering　grateful　low　chatterings；　probably　dropped　and　forgot　it　in　the　excitement　of　something　new　before　he　had　even　looked　to　see　what　it　was。

〃These　people；〃　said　Darwin　to　himself；　〃on　the　whole；　and　as　an　average；　seem　to　give　me　appropriate　and　pleasing　gifts。　To　be　sure；　it　is　always　well　to　see　that　they　don't　try　to　bunco　me　with　olive　stones　or　such　worthless　trash；　but　still　I　believe　they　are　worth　cultivating　and　standing　in　with。〃

〃〃It　strikes　me；〃　observed　Funny　Face　to　himself；　〃that　my　adorable　Memsahib　and　my　beloved　bwana　have　been　very　kind　to　me　to…day；　though　I　don't　remember　precisely　how。　But　I　certainly　do　love　them！〃

We　cut　good　sized　holes　on　each　of　the　four　sides　of　their　chop　box　to　afford　them　ventilation　on　the　march。　The　box　was　always　carried　on　one　of　the　safari　boy's　heads：　and　Funny　Face　and　Darwin　gazed　forth　with　great　interest。　It　was　very　amusing　to　see　the　big　negro　striding　jauntily　along　under　his　light　burden；　the　large　brown　winking　eyes　glued　to　two　of　the　apertures。　When　we　arrived　in　camp　and　threw　the　box　cover　open；　they　hopped　forth；　shook　themselves；　examined　their　immediate　surroundings　and　proceeded　to　take　a　little　exercise。　When　anything　alarmed　them；　such　as　the　shadow　of　a　passing　hawk；　they　skittered　madly　up　the　nearest　thing　in　sight…tent　pole；　tree；　or　human　form…　and　scolded　indignantly　or　chittered　in　a　low　tone　according　to　the　degree　of　their　terror。　When　Funny　Face　was　very　young；　indeed；　the　grass　near　camp　caught　fire。　After　the　excitement　was　over　we　found　him　completely　buried　in　the　straw　of　his　box；　crouched；　and　whimpering　like　a　child。　As　he　could　hardly；　at　his　tender　age；　have　had　any　previous　experience　with　fire；　this　instinctive　fear　was　to　me　very　interesting。

The　monkeys　had　only　one　genuine　enemy。　That　was　an　innocent　plush　lion　named　Little　Simba。　It　had　been　given　us　in　joke　before　we　left　California；　we　had　tucked　it　into　an　odd　corner　of　our　trunk；　had　discovered　it　there；　carried　it　on　safari　out　of　sheer　idleness；　and　lo！　it　had　become　an　important　member　of　the　expedition。　Every　morning　Mahomet　or　Yusuf　packed　it…or　rather　him…carefully　away　in　the　tin　box。　Promptly　at　the　end　of　the　day's　march　Little　Simba　was　haled　forth　and　set　in　a　place　of　honour　in　the　centre　of　the　table；　and　reigned　there…or　sometimes　in　a　little　grass　jungle　constructed　by　his　faithful　servitors…until　the　march　was　again　resumed。　His　job　in　life　was　to　look　after　our　hunting　luck。　When　he　failed　to　get　us　what　we　wanted；　he　was　punished；　when　he　procured　us　what　we　desired　he　was　rewarded　by　having　his　tail　sewed　on　afresh；　or　by　being　presented　with　new　black　thread　whiskers；　or　even　a　tiny　blanket　of　Mericani　against　the　cold。　This　last　was　an　especial　favour　for　finally　getting　us　the　greater　kudu。　Naturally　as　we　did　all　this　in　the　spirit　of　an　idle　joke　our　rewards　and　punishments　were　rather　desultory。　To　our　surprise；　however；　we　soon　found　that　our　boys　took　Little　Simba　quite　seriously。　He　was　a　fetish；　a　little　god；　a　power　of　good　or　bad　luck。　We　did　not　appreciate　this　point　until　one　evening；　after　a　rather　disappointing　day；　Mahomet　came　to　us　bearing　Little　Simba　in　his　hand。

〃Bwana；〃　said　he　respectfully；　〃is　it　enough　that　I　shut　Simba　in　the　tin　box；　or　do　you　wish　to　flog　him？〃

On　one　very　disgraceful　occasion；　when　everything　went　wrong；　we　plucked　Little　Simba　from　his　high　throne　and　with　him　made　a　beautiful　drop…kick　out　into　the　tall　grass。　There；　in　a　loud　tone　of　voice；　we　sternly　bade　him　lie　until　the　morrow。　The　camp　was　bung…eyed。　It　is　not　given　to　every　people　to　treat　its　gods　in　such　fashion：　indeed；　in　very　deed；　great　is　the　white　man！　To　be　fair；　having　published　Little　Simba's　disgrace；　we　should　publish　also　Little　Simba's　triumph：　to　tell　how；　at　the　end　of　a　certain　very　lucky　three　months'　safari　he　was　perched　atop　a　pole　and　carried　into　town　triumphantly　at　the　head　of　a　howling；　singing　procession　of　a　hundred　men。　He　returned　to　America；　and　now；　having　retired　from　active　professional　life；　is　leading　an　honoured　old　age　among　the　trophies　he　helped　to　procure。

Funny　Face　first　met　Little　Simba　when　on　an　early　investigating　tour。　With　considerable　difficulty　he　had　shinnied　up　the　table　leg；　and　had　hoisted　himself　over　the　awkwardly　projecting　table　edge。　When　almost　within　reach　of　the　fascinating　affairs　displayed　atop；　he　looked　straight　up　into　the　face　of　Little　Simba！　Funny　Face　shrieked　aloud；　let　go　all　holds　and　fell　off　flat　on　his　back。　Recovering　immediately；　he　climbed　just　as　high　as　he　could；　and　proceeded；　during　the　next　hour；　to　relieve　his　feelings　by　the　most　insulting　chatterings　and　grimaces。　He　never　recovered　from　this　initial　experience。　All　that　was　necessary　to　evoke　all　sorts　of　monkey　talk　was　to　produce　Little　Simba。　Against　his　benign　plush　front　then　broke　a　storm　of　remonstrance。　He　became　the　object　of　slow　advances　and　sudden　scurrying；　shrieking　retreats；　that　lasted　just　as　long　as　he　stayed　there；　and　never　got　any　farther　than　a　certain　quite　conservative　point。　Little　Simba　did　not　mind。　He　was　too　busy　being　a　god。



XXIV。　BUFFALO

The　Cape　Buffalo　is　one　of　the　four　dangerous　kinds　of　African　big　game；　of　which　the　other　three　are　the　lion；　the　rhinoceros；　and　the　elephant。　These　latter　are　familiar　to　us　in　zoological　gardens；　although　the　African　and　larger　form　of　the　rhinoceros　and　elephant　are　seldom　or　never　seen　in　captivity。　But　buffaloes　are　as　yet　unrepresented　in　our　living　collections。　They　are　huge　beasts；　tremendous　from　any　point　of　view；　whether　considered　in　height；　in　mass；　or　in　power。　At　the　shoulder　they　stand　from　just　under　five　feet　to　just　under　six　feet　in　height；　they　are　short　legged；　heavy　bodied　bull　necked；　thick　in　every　dimension。　In　colour　they　are　black　as　to　hair；　and　slate　gray　as　to　skin；　so　that　the　individual　impression　depends　on　the　thickness　of　the　coat。　They　wear　their　horns　parted　in　the　middle；　sweeping　smoothly　away　in　the　curves　of　two　great　bosses　either　side　the　head。　A　good　trophy　will　measure　in　spread　from　forty　inches　to　four　feet。　Four　men　will　be　required　to　carry　in　the　head　alone。　As　buffaloes　when　disturbed　or　suspicious　have　a　habit　of　thrusting　their　noses　up　and　forward；　that　position　will　cling　to　one's　memory　as　the　most　typical　of　the　species。

A　great　many　hunters　rank　the　buffalo　first　among　the　dangerous　beasts。　This　is　not　my　own　opinion；　but　he　is　certainly　dangerous　enough。　He　possesses　the　size；　power；　and　truculence　of　the　rhinoceros；　together　with　all　that　animal's　keenness　of　scent　and　hearing　but　with　a　sharpness　of　vision　the　rhinoceros　has　not。　While　not　as　clever　as　either　the　lion　or　the　elephant；　he　is　tricky　enough　when　angered　to　circle　back　for　the　purpose　of　attacking　his　pursuers　in　the　rear　or　flank；　and　to　arrange　rather　ingenious　ambushes　for　the　same　purpose。　He　is　rather　more　tenacious　of　life　than　the　rhinoceros；　and　will　carry　away　an　extraordinary　quantity　of　big　bullets。　Add　to　these　considerations　the　facts　that　buffaloes　go　in　herds；　and　that；　barring　luck；　chances　are　about　even　they　will　have　to　be　followed　into　the　thickest　cover；　it　can　readily　be　seen　that　their　pursuit　is　exciting。

The　problem　would　be　simplified　were　one　able　or　willing　to　slip　into　the　thicket　or　up　to　the　grazing　herd　and　kill　the　nearest　beast　that　offers。　As　a　matter　of　fact　an　ordinary　herd　will　contain　only　two　or　three　bulls　worth　shooting；　and　it　is　the　hunter's　delicate　task　to　glide　and　crawl　here　and　there；　with　due　regard　for　sight；　scent　and　sound；　until　he　has　picked　one　of　these　from　the　scores　of　undesirables。　Many　times　will　he　worm　his　way　by　inches　toward　the　great　black　bodies　half　defined　in　the　screen　of　thick　undergrowth　only　to　find　that　he　has　stalked　cows　or　small　bulls。　Then　inch　by　inch　he　must　back　out　again；　unable　to　see　twenty　yards　to　either　side；　guiding　himself　by　the　probabilities　of　the　faint　chance　breezes　in　the　thicket。　To　right　and　left　he　hears　the　quiet　continued　crop；　crop；　crop；　sound　of　animals　grazing。　The　sweat　runs　down　his　face　in　streams；　and　blinds　his　eyes；　but　only　occasionally　and　with　the　utmost　caution　can　he　raise　his　hand…or；　better；　lower　his　head…to　clear　his　vision。　When　at　last　he　has　withdrawn　from　the　danger　zone；　he　wipes　his　face；　takes　a　drink　from　the　canteen；　and　tries　again。　Sooner　or　later　his　presence　comes　to　the　notice　of　some　old　cow。　Behind　the　leafy　screen　where　unsuspected　she　has　been　standing　comes　the　most　unexpected　and　heart…jumping　crash！　Instantly　the　jungle　all　about　roars　into　life。　The　great　bodies　of　the　alarmed　beasts　hurl　themselves　through　the　thicket；　smash！　bang！　crash！　smash！　as　though　a　tornado　were　uprooting　the　forest。　Then　abruptly　a　complete　silence！　This　lasts　but　ten　seconds　or　so；　then　off　rushes　the　wild　stampede　in　another　direction；　only　again　to　come　to　a　listening