The years 1872-1874 were undoubtedly the most strenuous of Selous' life, for after his return to South Africa in 1876 he used the horse in the greater part of his journeys in the interior, except on such trips as he made into the "fly," when he seldom met with elephants. He landed again at Algoa Bay on March 15th, 1876, and at once organized another trip into the interior, taking four months before he reached the Matabele country by bullock waggon. Here he met his old friend Dorehill, Lieutenant Grandy, R.N., and a Mr. Horner, and as it was too late to make an extensive trip after elephants the party spent the remainder of the year in short hunting trips down the Tati, Shashi, and Ramokwebani rivers. Much of this time was spent in hunting giraffes, and he gives many lively accounts of this exhilarating sport, also of hunting buffaloes and the larger antelopes. One day on the Ramokwebani Selous and his friends had a thrilling hunt after an old male lion which gave much trouble. Selous broke the animal's shoulder with the first shot and then followed into thick bush in which the lion kept retreating. For that evening he was lost as night came on, but next day Selous tried his dogs, which seemed disinclined to face the quarry. The lion, however, was soon found, as a wet night had made "spooring" easy, and he kept up a continuous roaring, which is unusual. Grandy and Horner had shots, after which the lion continued his retreat from one thicket to another, but roaring at intervals.[15]

At the Ramokwebani Selous met for the first time George Westbeech, the well-known trader, who had for years traded in the far interior as a pioneer. He principally worked the ivory business on the Zambesi and all its confluents north and south. In 1871 he opened up a lucrative business with Sepopo, king of the Barotsi, and between that year and 1876, when Sepopo was assassinated, he brought out no less than 30,000 lbs. of ivory. He also traded much with the Portuguese on the Zambesi, and his operations extended as far north as the Mashukulumbwe country. Selous, as well as all travellers in the interior at this period, had a great respect for Westbeech, and bears testimony to his high character and integrity in dealings with the natives. He regarded him as a fine type of the best class of English pioneer, and is scathing in his denunciation of "stay-at-home aborigines' protectionists, who, comfortably seated in the depths of their armchairs before a blazing fire, are continually thundering forth denunciations against the rapacious British colonist, and the 'low, immoral trader,' who exerts such a baneful influence upon the chaste and guileless savages of the interior. I speak feelingly, as I am proud to rank myself as one of that little body of English and Scotch men who, as traders and elephant-hunters in Central South Africa, have certainly, whatever may be their failings in other respects, kept up the name of Englishmen amongst the natives for all that is upright and honest. In the words of Buckle, we are neither monks nor saints, but only men."

Late in 1876 Selous went down to the Diamond Fields to fetch some property, and trekked south via Bamangwato. This occupied five months before he returned to Matabeleland. On December 6th he had an adventure with lions at Pelatse. He was awakened at 2.30 by his boy, January, who told him there was something on his horse. It was, however, too dark to see to shoot, but he crept near and saw two lions leave the dead horse. He then crawled close to the carcase and another lion rose and sprang away. Just as daylight came in, however, he saw a lion lying "between me and the horse, its tawny body pressed flat upon the yellow sand and its great head couched upon its outstretched paws." He fired at it at a distance of twelve paces and the lion rolled over, recovered, and made off. When day broke he followed the wounded lion for several miles, but never found it again. A few days later some Bushmen found the lion dead and took the skin, but Selous never recovered it, as he had by this time gone south.

In "A Hunter's Wanderings," "The Lion in South Africa" (Badminton Library), and "The Gun at Home and Abroad," Selous gives the most complete account of the lion and its habits and mode of hunting that has been written by any hunter of wide experience.

It is somewhat curious to notice that three first-class authorities, namely Selous, Finaughty, and Neumann, who all had a wide experience with lions, buffaloes, and elephants, all differ entirely as to the respective danger in dealing with these formidable animals. Selous considered that the lion was much the worst when cornered, Finaughty is emphatic that the buffalo is by far the most dangerous opponent, whilst Neumann gives the elephant first place. Each hunter had ample opportunities for gauging the fighting qualities of these animals, and all agree that they are very dangerous, and give numerous examples from their own experience, so that we are still left in doubt as to the real issue. The experience of men who have only seen and shot a few lions, buffaloes, and elephants is not of much value, because these beasts are judged according to their behaviour in special cases, but Selous shot many of all kinds when rifles were clumsy and inefficient, and even when armed with the most accurate and powerful weapons, and yet adheres to his point, that the lion never refuses battle when once he is stopped, whilst buffaloes and elephants almost invariably try to get away unless severely wounded. It is possible, however, that in past times lions in South Africa were more savage than they are to-day in East Africa and Somaliland, just as probably they were more prone to attack without provocation in the days when Jules Gerard hunted lions in French Algeria. At any rate this is the opinion of Sir Frederick Jackson, an experienced hunter in East Africa, who, although admitting he had not had a wide experience with lions, seems to think they always try to sneak off whenever they can—even when wounded. William Judd, perhaps the most experienced hunter of all game in East Africa, and a man who has also killed many lions in South Africa, places the buffalo first as the most dangerous animal, and his opinion is worthy of the highest consideration.

Selous bases his argument on the following:—

All of which is perfectly true.

Whilst on the subject of the comparative danger of various wild beasts it may be interesting briefly to summarize the views of other experienced hunters. Cuninghame and Tarlton place the elephant and the lion equal first, with the buffalo third. Sir Frederick Jackson and William Judd say the buffalo is easily first as a dangerous foe; whilst Captain Stigand assigns the danger in the following order, viz.: lion, elephant, rhinoceros, leopard, buffalo. Sir Samuel Baker makes a more curious order—elephant, rhinoceros, buffalo, and lion the last. Oddly enough, only one hunter, namely Drummond, places the rhinoceros as the worst, but it must be remembered that when he hunted in South Africa heavy rifles were scarce and somewhat inadequate.

Nevertheless, despite all these very divided opinions, it is generally agreed amongst all professional hunters, both Boers and British, with whom I have discussed the question, both in East and South Africa, that the buffalo is perhaps the most dangerous animal, because he is so hard to stop and offers generally so sudden, so determined, and so unfavourable a target when actually charging.

When actually wounded and charging there is little doubt that the buffalo is the toughest of all, because he bursts out suddenly from a concealed spot and presents no vulnerable target, and I know from actual experience how helpless a man feels when one of these brutes comes grunting fiercely at his heels. Of course no man of sense does go poking about in dense bush after a wounded buffalo, but then all hunters are foolhardy sometimes and trouble ensues. We hate to leave a wounded animal, especially if it carries a good head. Thus have nearly all the numerous fatal accidents happened. A charging elephant is nearly always turned by a frontal shot, whereas a buffalo is never stopped unless it is mortally hit, but the chief danger in elephant-hunting seems to be (so Neumann thought) from outside sources—that is from vicious cows in the same herd which may be encountered suddenly. Neumann was an exceedingly brave man, and in his first trips was only armed with an ordinary ·256 Mannlicher throwing a solid bullet. His method was to creep right in amongst a herd and shoot the best bull through the heart. This often did not kill it at once, and rendered him liable to be charged suddenly by other members of the herd. Wherefore he rightly estimates that his own form of hunting was the most dangerous of all African hunting. When he got a double ·450 high-velocity Rigby he killed elephants much more easily and did not have nearly so many narrow escapes. It therefore seems to be the case that, armed with modern weapons, the hunter of elephants runs no especial risk if he does not try in the first instance to get too close to his quarry and gives it a side shot in the right place, whilst in the case of a charging animal the lion is the easiest to stop and the elephant the easiest to turn and the buffalo the hardest to kill. Yet if a quiet shot can be got at a buffalo bull before he has seen the hunter there seems to be little if any danger to the hunter.

Men who have encountered thousands of buffalo have told us that they have never seen an unwounded buffalo charge and that this only occurs when the hunter suddenly meets one face to face in the bush. But even this is not quite correct.

Speaking of buffaloes and their aggressiveness, Selous says: "Although many accidents happen in the pursuit of these animals, yet, in my opinion, the danger incurred in hunting them is marvellously exaggerated. Having shot nearly two hundred buffaloes to my own rifle, and followed very many of them when wounded into very thick bush, I think I have had sufficient experience to express an opinion on the subject." He suggests that, in the majority of cases when disasters occurred from a sudden attack, apparently without provocation, the buffalo which charged had probably been wounded by another hunter, and cites many instances to confirm this. Moreover, it may be added that buffaloes in old age often become deaf and lie in the bush until suddenly encountered by a man. Then a charge generally ensues because the meeting was unexpected.

Although Selous held that lions are the most dangerous of all opponents, by his own accounts his escapes from infuriated buffaloes were quite as numerous as those from the great cats.

Whilst hunting on the Chobe in 1877 he knocked down a young bull from a herd which gave him a very bad five minutes. As he was standing close to the bull, which he saw was only stunned, it suddenly rose to its feet and seemingly took no notice of a bullet fired point-blank into its chest. Selous ran past the bull, which catching sight of some of the Kafirs at once charged them, grunting furiously.[16]

Again on the Chobe in 1879 he wounded an old bull, which he followed through open bush. The buffalo was, however, concealed as usual, and charged suddenly at ten yards' distance.

"I had no time to raise the rifle to my shoulder," he says, "but swinging it round to my hips, just pulled the trigger, and at the same time sprang to one side. At the same moment I was covered with a shower of sand, and some part of the buffalo, nose or horn or shoulder, touched my thigh with sufficient force to overthrow me, but without hurting me in the least. I was on my feet again in a moment, ready to run for it, but saw that my adversary was on the ground bellowing, with a hind-leg, evidently broken, dragging out behind him. Before he recovered himself I despatched him with a bullet through the lungs."

In April, 1877, Selous again reached Tati and, after a visit to Lobengula, at once trekked north to the Zambesi in the hope of securing elephants. This time he was accompanied by Mr. Kingsley, an Englishman, and Mr. Miller, a young colonist who was a first-rate shot. He had also several native hunters in his service. However, the whole trip resulted, as far as elephants were concerned, in a complete failure, only Miller killing two male animals. At Gerva he met his old friends Dorehill and Horner, who had both been seriously ill with fever, while his good friend Lieutenant Grandy had died from the same cause.

When Selous reached the Chobe he found that the elephants had all disappeared, but does not state the cause, which I have since ascertained was probably due to the great drives organized by Sepopo, Chief of the Barotsi, in the triangle of the Chobe-Zambesi delta. Apropos of this, my friend McLeod of McLeod gave me the following account. In 1875 he, with Dorehill and W. Fairlie, trekked up from the south and left their waggons at Pandamatenka on the Zambesi. Here they crossed the river and went in on foot, intending to hunt in the Barotsi country. After good sport with game, Sepopo received the party kindly and invited them to a great elephant drive which annually took place in September in the junction formed by the meeting of the Chobe and Zambesi rivers. Many thousands of natives took part in this great hunt. A line of fire enclosed the base of the triangle, into which several hundred elephants had been driven, whilst some thousands of natives in canoes lay in the rivers on each flank to cut off elephants and shoot and spear them in the water as they broke out. When all was in readiness the lines from the base fires advanced and the elephants began to break back and the shooting began. "Such a fusillade," remarked McLeod, "more resembled a battle than a hunt; the firing was of the wildest description, and so inaccurate that we were in constant danger of losing our lives. At the end of the day only nine elephants were killed by our party and the natives round us, whilst the majority broke through our cordon and that of the fire behind and escaped. A considerable number, however, were speared and shot on the rivers on each flank. Several men were killed and wounded in the attack."

The following year (1876) another great hunt of similar character took place, and late in the season Sepopo was assassinated and the whole country thrown into a state of anarchy.

These great hunts, scaring the elephants out of the whole district, would account for Selous' bad luck in 1877, but he seemed to have enjoyed himself hunting buffalo, of which he killed no fewer than forty-five in four months on the Chobe. He states that he experienced a few dangers and one rather narrow escape.

Selous, although he did not consider the buffalo so dangerous an antagonist as the lion, had his full share of adventures with them. His escape from an old bull which killed his horse under him, on the Nata river in May, 1874, was almost miraculous, for a buffalo seldom leaves his victim once he has got him down.

He found two old buffalo bulls and galloped within three yards of them, and the rifle missed fire. After another chase one of the bulls, getting annoyed, stood and offered a good shot, and the cap again played the hunter false.[17]

Curiously enough, McLeod met with an almost identical accident on the Nata in 1875. The buffalo struck the horse behind in his charge, and horse, rifle, and rider were all thrown to the ground. Although McLeod was lying helpless, the buffalo confined its fury to the horse and struck it with his horns till life was extinct. Then, without looking at McLeod, who had been thrown into a thorn-bush, it galloped away.

Selous gives several instances of the tenacity of life and viciousness retained to the last moment of the buffalo.[18]

Buffaloes wounded by man or lions are always dangerous.

Buffaloes, if the ground is hard, can go at a great pace and can outrun a horse for some distance. It once took me a chase of five miles before I got up with a big bull on whose head I had set my desires. "In 1873," writes Selous, "a buffalo cow, although severely wounded, ran down in the open a horse Lobengula had lent me, and on which my Hottentot driver was mounted; she struck the horse as it was going at full speed between the thighs with her nose, and, luckily striking short, knocked it over on one side and sent its rider flying, but before she could do further damage a bullet through her shoulders from George Wood incapacitated her for further mischief."

He seems to have been much depressed at this time as to his prospects of making a living—at any rate as an elephant-hunter and trader. "Nothing[20] has gone right with me since I left England, nor do I think it ever will again. I was born under an unlucky star, for even if I do not suffer from personal and particular bad fortune, I seem just to hit off the particular year and the particular part of the country for my speculation when and where everything has gone to rack and ruin. Had I left England in October, 1875, instead of February, 1876, I should in all human probability have done fairly well, and been able to return to England at the beginning of the next year (1878), for last year 40,000 lbs. of ivory were traded at the Zambesi alone, and every hunter did well. This year, owing principally to Sepopo's assassination, only 2500 lbs. have been traded, and not a hunter has earned his salt. But, mind you, I do not yet despair; I am still well to the good, and, if I can only get to a country which is not worked out, I will soon get a few pounds together." Later the same year he writes to his father (October 17th, 1877): "On this side of the river elephant-hunting is at an end, all the elephants being either killed or driven away. I am now going to try and go down the Zambesi to Tete—a Portuguese settlement, and from there to the new missionary settlement at Lake Nyassa."

After returning to Pandamatenka in 1877, Selous went down the Zambesi with a Mr. Owen and with donkeys, bent on trading and hunting in the "fly" north of the river. Eight days later he crossed at Wankie's Town and reached Mwemba's kraal—that chief being an important local chief of the Batongas. Mwemba was much pleased to see the travellers, as he stated they were the first white men he had ever met. The donkeys, too, were new beasts to him.

We need scarcely follow Selous' wanderings in the pestilential climate of the Zambesi valley during the next few months. He was completely disappointed in finding elephants, and both he and his companion suffered severely from fever in the deadly climate. All down the river he had daily evidence of the evil doings of the Portuguese, who employed the Shakundas to capture and enslave Batongan girls for their use and subsequent trade in human flesh. The price paid for a girl was usually an old musket or about twenty rupees. Near the mouth of the Kafukwe the travellers met Canyemba and Mendonca, head chiefs of the Shakundas, who appeared to be a proper pair of scoundrels, but small-pox was raging here, so Selous and Owen did not stay for long, but went north into the Manica country on December 13th. Hence they got up to the high country and shot a little game, including some konze (Liechtenstein's hartebeest), the first Selous had seen.

On January 6th they reached the kraal of Sitanda, head chief of the Manica country. "We found the old fellow a slight-built old Kafir, with an astute thin-featured face, sitting outside his hut with about a dozen cronies. When his people first come up to him to report any news, they roll on their backs in the dust before him, and subsequently, when talking to him, lie down on their sides and rub one shoulder in the dust at the conclusion of every sentence."

The Kafukwe country looking unpromising for elephants, Selous then resolved to go north to the Mashukulumbwe country, but this was prevented by the breakdown of Owen, who became seriously ill with fever. A few days later, after hunting lechwes in a swamp, Selous himself became ill, and for a fortnight both the travellers experienced all the trials of malarial fever. Sitanda was of course delighted, and hoped they would soon die and he could annex all their trade goods. He, in fact, refused them all help in the way of food and porters in the manner usual to a savage who thinks he has white men in his power. The chief had given orders to all his people not to help the unfortunate invalids, no matter what payment was offered. Finally, poor Selous was reduced to "buying," for 320 loaded cartridges, one Kafir boy from a Portuguese. "The Portuguese told me I must watch him well in the daytime, and tie him up at night; however, I explained to him, through one of my boys, that, although I had bought him, I did not want to keep him for a slave, and that if he would carry for me as far as the Zambesi, he might go where he liked afterwards, or continue working with me for wages."

On January 24th Selous and Owen left this "accursed spot where we had spent eighteen miserable days." Ill and weak they staggered south, and five days later "the slave" ran away with a valuable breechloading elephant-gun. This, however, was recovered, but not the whole stock of Martini-Henry cartridges and corn which was essential to existence.

Thoroughly worn out, they reached the Zambesi at last on February 18th. No game had fallen to their rifles, as both were too ill to hunt.

After getting more provisions and carriers from Mendonca the party struck south, but after April 1st Owen was so weak that he had to be carried. Selous, however, improved a little when he reached the healthier country, but was still weak and unsuccessful in what little hunting he did. Moreover, the Banyais carrying Owen struck work, so Selous decided to leave him in charge of his faithful Basuto servant Franz and himself to push on to the waggons at Inyati and to send back help to his friend. On April 17th, he bade good-bye to Owen, and reached Inyati on May 4th, sending seven men to the Gweo, where Owen rested, and they eventually brought him out safely to the Matabele country.

After this unfortunate trip Selous was much depressed in mind, feeling that the whole country south of the Zambesi was played out for the trader and the hunter. Writing to his mother from Tati (May 28th, 1878), he expresses all his gloomy anticipations—doubtless the after effects of fever from which he had not yet recovered. "I am afraid that if I ever get home again you will find me much changed for the worse in temper and disposition. Continual never-ending misfortune in small matters and the failure of every speculation has changed me from a tolerably light-hearted fellow into a morose sad-tempered man. It is all very well to say that one can but do his best and that sort of thing, but in this world a man's merit and worth are measured solely according to his success and by no other standard. During the last year almost everybody has been ruined, and all the smaller traders sold up. Next year I am going to try a new country to the north of Ovampoland in Southwestern Africa. Things cannot be worse there than they are here, and from all I can learn probably much better. If there is nothing to be done there, I am sure I don't know what I shall do, but think of trying the Western States of North America. To try farming in this country with the luck against one would never do, for there is not one but twenty diseases to which all sorts of live stock are subject; all of them unknown in America and Australia."

Selous was far from well after this trying trip, and it took him two months to recover from its effects, so it was not till August that he set off again, after getting permission from Lobengula, to hunt in the Mashuna country, where he hoped to join his friends Clarkson, Cross, and Wood, who had gone north in the previous June.

On August 20th he left Inyati, in company with Mr. Goulden (Clarkson's partner), and trekked north. On the 30th he reached the Gwenia, where he found the old Boer hunter Jan Viljoen and his family. Here he had some sport with sable antelopes, and moved on the next day and reached the Umniati on September 6th, and on September 8th the Gwazan, where he shot a bull sable. After crossing the Sweswe, where he found the Neros, well-known Griqua elephant-hunters, he heard that his friends were on the Umfule river, two days north. Here he learnt that Clarkson and Wood had killed eight bull elephants in one day, September 8th; so was anxious to join them as soon as possible after this exciting piece of news.

On reaching the encampment of his friends he heard they were away on the Hanyane river, so he at once decided to follow them. Next day Selous killed a sable bull and met his friends close to the scene of the elephant slaughter of the previous Sunday. Clarkson and Wood had already killed forty elephants, and had to record the death of Quabeet, Wood's head Kafir, by a tuskless bull elephant. Selous gives some particulars of this unhappy event in a letter to his mother (December 25th, 1878): "Mr. Clarkson came across a troop of elephants and commenced shooting at them. Whilst killing one he heard another screaming terrifically, and galloped in that direction but saw nothing. In the evening Quabeet was missing, but no one thought anything could have happened to him except that he had lost himself. On the second day, however, as he did not turn up, Clarkson bethought him of the continuous screaming he had heard, and remembered to have seen a gigantic tuskless bull turn out by himself, whose spoor he resolved to follow the next morning. This he did, and soon found the place where the elephant had chased a man; there he found Quabeet's gun, and near it the odds and ends of skin he had worn round his waist and finally what remained of Quabeet. The poor fellow had been torn into three pieces. The elephant must have held him down with his foot and then torn him asunder with his trunk."

On September 14th the party found a herd of cow elephants and shot six, and on September 17th they all went north-east to the mahobo-hobo forests which lie between the Umsengasi and Hanyane rivers to look for elephants. The same evening they found two old bulls near the Umbila river. Selous quickly killed three bulls and a cow. "The fourth I tackled," he says, "cost me six bullets and gave me a smart chase, for my horse was now dead beat. I only got away at all by the skin of my teeth as, although the infuriated animal whilst charging trumpeted all the time like a railway engine, I could not get my tired horse out of a canter until he was close upon me, and I firmly believe that had he not been so badly wounded he would have caught me. I know the shrill screaming sounded unpleasantly near."

Immediately after this episode the herd of elephants showed signs of exhaustion. "The poor animals were now completely knocked up, throwing water (taken from their stomachs) over their heated bodies as they walked slowly along." But the hunters stuck to them until their cartridges were exhausted; all, that is to say, except Selous, who had still thirteen left.

Selous then selected a big cow for his next victim, and experienced one of the narrowest escapes of his whole adventurous life.[21]

"Having picked out a good cow for my fifth victim, I gave her a shot behind the shoulder, on which she turned from the herd and walked slowly away by herself. As I cantered up behind her, she wheeled round and stood facing me, with her ears spread and her head raised. My horse was now so tired that he stood well, so, reining in, I gave her a shot from his back between the neck and the shoulder, which I believe just stopped her from charging. On receiving this wound she backed a few paces, gave her ears a flap against her sides, and then stood facing me again. I had just taken out the empty cartridge and was about to put a fresh one in, when, seeing that she looked very vicious, and as I was not thirty yards from her, I caught the bridle and turned the horse's head away, so as to be ready for a fair start in case of a charge. I was still holding my rifle with the breech open when I saw that she was coming. Digging the spurs into my horse's ribs, I did my best to get him away, but he was so thoroughly done that, instead of springing forwards, which was what the emergency required, he only started at a walk and was just breaking into a canter when the elephant was upon us. I heard two short sharp screams above my head, and had just time to think it was all over with me, when, horse and all, I was dashed to the ground. For a few seconds I was half-stunned by the violence of the shock, and the first thing I became aware of was a very strong smell of elephant. At the same instant I felt that I was still unhurt and that, although in an unpleasant predicament, I had still a chance for life. I was, however, pressed down on the ground in such a way that I could not extricate my head. At last with a violent effort I wrenched myself loose, and threw my body over sideways, so that I rested on my hands. As I did so I saw the hind legs of the elephant standing like two pillars before me, and at once grasped the situation. She was on her knees, with her head and tusks in the ground, and I had been pressed down under her chest, but luckily behind her forelegs. Dragging myself from under her, I regained my feet and made a hasty retreat, having had rather more than enough of elephants for the time being. I retained, however, sufficient presence of mind to run slowly, watching her movements over my shoulder and directing mine accordingly. Almost immediately I had made my escape she got up and stood looking for me, with her ears up and head raised, turning first to one side and then to the other, but never quite wheeling round. As she made these turns, I ran obliquely to the right or left, as the case might be, always endeavouring to keep her stern towards me. At length I gained the shelter of a small bush and breathed freely once more."