By F. J. Jackson

The African elephant (E. Africanus), known to the natives of Zanzibar as Tembo, to the natives of Mombasa and to the north as Ndovu, has, I venture to think, on account of its truly colossal size, majestic bearing, and sagacity, a much better claim to the position of king of beasts than the lion. It has disappeared from many parts of Africa since the introduction of firearms and the advance of civilisation, but in British East Africa, in certain localities, it is still to be found in enormous numbers. It may be hoped that whoever has the making of laws for that country will strenuously endeavour to preserve the elephants and protect them from professional hunters, who shoot everything—bulls, cows, and half-grown calves alike—utterly regardless of the size of the ivory, even though the tusks be little bigger than the lower incisor teeth of a bull hippo.

In the dry weather elephants take up their quarters in the thick forests at high altitudes—from 6,000 to 9,000 feet—such as Kikuyu, Mau, and Lykepia, and in the belts of forest on Kilimanjaro, Kenia, Elgon, and Ruwenzori, rather, perhaps, for the sake of food and water—both plentiful in such places—than for the sake of the shade. In the wet weather they leave the forests and roam out into the open, where food and water have again become abundant, and they are quite as likely as not to be found during the heat of the day standing in long grass with no shade of any kind. It is difficult for a man who has never hunted elephants, or seen places where they have stopped to feed, to realise the tremendous havoc they play in those places which are much frequented by them, and the amount of wilful damage they do for no apparent reason. When hunting them I have often come across places where the herd I was following had stopped and scattered about to feed, and the amount of wreckage created in the short time before they had again moved on was astounding. Trees of various kinds had been broken down and uprooted in all directions for the sake of a few twigs and young shoots which could have been plucked off equally well whilst the trees stood; bushes had been pulled up and thrown on one side with scarcely a leaf off; branches of larger trees had been torn off without a twig or piece of bark having been eaten; wisps of long grass lay all round, pulled up by the roots, but otherwise untouched, whilst the grass where the herd had stood was knocked down and trampled under foot by their huge feet. In fact, the whole place had more the appearance of a playground than of a feeding-place, and I am inclined to think that a good deal of the damage caused by elephants is done simply for amusement. I have come across other places where an equal amount of damage has befallen the same kind of trees and bushes, but with every proof that the elephants really have fed. The trees have been well cropped of their branches and twigs; bushes that have been torn up have been devoid of leaves, and their stems well chewed; the upper part of the wisps of grass have been missing, and the branches of large trees and the trees themselves have been stripped of their bark, which was left lying about in all directions after being chewed, &c. When in Uganda I once had an opportunity of watching a grand old bull elephant amusing himself. He was one of a large herd which I had no difficulty in getting within 150 yards of, but which I could not approach nearer, as they were standing quite out in the open. As I sat on the top of an ant-heap waiting for them to get into a better position, I watched this bull through my binoculars for about twenty minutes trying to destroy another ant-heap for no apparent cause, as he did not pick up the earth to dust himself, but simply dug his tusks into the heap, and with a sideways movement of the head sent the clods of earth flying away on each side of him. Had he thrown the earth upwards on to his back, or picked it up with his trunk to give himself a sand-bath, there would have been nothing strange about his proceedings. When the herd moved off, I went up to the ant-heap and found that the bull had knocked it about in a manner almost incredible even for such a huge and powerful beast. There can be little doubt that a great deal of the uprooted long grass which is found where elephants have stood is torn up simply for the purpose of dusting themselves, as I have twice had an excellent opportunity of watching them. On one occasion I got within 100 yards of five elephants standing in long grass in a hollow, and watched them for some time from the top of a rock whilst they had a dust-bath. This they did by simply twisting their trunks round wisps of grass, which they pulled up by the roots and threw up into the air over their backs. The weight of the earth in the roots caused these wisps of grass to descend roots downwards, and as they landed on the elephants’ backs, a good shower of dry earth, sand, and dust was the result.

Tracking in East Africa is rather an unusual method of finding other kinds of game, excepting in very thick bush, or when the particular game sought after is scarce, as game can generally be found in the open, provided the sportsman is on the feeding grounds early enough in the morning. With elephants the case is different, as they are great wanderers, and tracking is the universal method of finding them, the nature of the country in which they are found (generally forest, bush, or tall cane-like grass) being very unfavourable for seeing them at any distance. It is therefore necessary to make an early start, as much time is often lost before finding spoor sufficiently fresh to follow. Even when found, and though it appears to indicate that the elephants have just passed, the sportsman may have to follow it for several hours before coming up with them. Perhaps few things will try perseverance and endurance more than elephant hunting, as even though the spoor seems not more than a few minutes old, and though there is apparently every hope of approaching the beasts very shortly, delays are often caused by having to pick out the spoor of particular animals from a number of other tracks, and the knowledge that the beasts are in all probability gaining on him during these delays is decidedly trying to a man’s patience. After such delays the sportsman may manage to get on at a good pace, which, together with the rough going, soon tells on him, and after three or four hours (by no means an unusual time) he begins to feel a little down on his luck, and to despair of ever seeing the game again, when possibly he comes across the place where they have stood or stopped to feed. Here he may find fresh dung, into which some of his men will eagerly thrust their toes to try whether it is still warm or not. If it is, he starts off with renewed energy and buoyed up with fresh hope. Further on may be indications that the elephants have again stopped to feed, and the hunter’s spirits go up with a bound at the knowledge that he must have gained on them, only to be damped a little later on when he finds that they have again moved on. Though feeling inclined to throw up the whole thing in despair, he decides to follow a little longer, realising by this time that a stern chase is a long one. At last, as he plods wearily along, he comes across dung that is actually smoking, a sure sign that he is now pretty close to his game. A little further on the welcome sound of a branch being snapped, or the rumbling noise peculiar to the elephant, catches his ear; then he realises that he may see the beasts themselves at any moment, and is therefore thoroughly on the alert. Taking one of his heavy rifles from a gun-bearer and putting two or three spare cartridges into his pocket, if he has not already done so, and telling his gun-bearer to keep close up, while the rest of the men remain behind until they either hear a shot or a signal to come on, he pushes forward with the greatest caution, a curious mixture of coolness and intense excitement.

Should the nature of the ground in which the sportsman finds them be open, so as to prevent his getting nearer than 40 yards, the shoulder shot is the best to take at elephants, and I believe is almost universally recommended by all old elephant hunters. Should the beasts, however, be found standing in dense bush or tall cane-like grass (and they are very partial to these places) where it is impossible to see them until within 20 yards or less, and where even then all but the head and outline of the back is hidden, the temple is the best shot, and a shot anywhere between the eye and a little dark mark which indicates the orifice of the ear would be instantly fatal. When elephants are standing in thick bush and long grass, unless a sportsman has had a good deal of experience with them, the fact of seeing their huge backs towering above the covert is rather apt to deceive him in regard to the position of their heart and lungs. The great depth of their bodies would probably lead him to shoot too high, and a bullet placed too high, although it might eventually prove fatal, would not prevent the beast getting clean away at the time.

The hunt after the first elephant I ever killed is a very fair example of many which I have had, though I regret to say a very large proportion have not been so successful as this was.

In May 1887 I was encamped on one of the numerous streams on the southern slopes of Kilimanjaro, below Kiboso, with my friend Mr. H. C. V. Hunter.

This country, as I have said elsewhere, is very undulating, and the covert on it very varied, brush and grass 10 to 12 ft. high alternating with open forest of table-topped mimosa or dense clumps of bush and large forest trees. It is, however, decidedly an unfavourable country for sport, as the wind is very uncertain and can never be relied upon to keep steady, owing probably to the proximity of the mountain, which causes the cross currents and eddies that constantly betray the sportsman’s presence. Mr. Hunter and I were three weeks in this country, and I think we each came up with elephants nearly every day we were out; but one of these cross currents or eddies in the wind betrayed us before we could see the beasts in the dense covert. When we did see them, they were nearly always in the densest bush or long grass, and we got very few good shots compared with the number of times we were actually within shooting range. On the morning of the 29th I left camp with thirteen men, very early, with the intention of following up the spoor of a grand bull which I had severely wounded the day before. This beast I had followed up until he brought me round in a circle to within a couple of miles of camp, and as it was late in the afternoon and I was pretty well knocked up at the time, I gave up the hunt for the day, intending to take up the spoor again on the following morning. Unfortunately, there was heavy rain during the night, which, however, stopped just about an hour before we started from camp, and when we picked up the spoor we found that all traces of blood, which had been very conspicuous the day before, had been completely washed away. However, there was no mistaking the spoor of this beast on account of its size; we managed to get along at a good pace, and had gone about three miles when we found that a big herd had subsequently got on to the same track, and had completely obliterated the spoor of the wounded bull. As this herd had passed since the rain had stopped, evidently within about two hours, I decided to follow them, but had not gone more than half a mile before we found that they had split up, five big fellows going off to the left, up wind, whilst the rest of the herd kept straight on, across the wind. After a short consultation, we decided to follow these five big ones, and we went off at a killing pace through the long grass, in spite of the ploughed-up condition of the path, and at the end of an hour and a half came to a small deep stream which the elephants had crossed. As I was already wet through from the grass, and as my boots were worn out and full of holes, which prevented them holding water and making a ‘squishing’ noise, I waded across this stream, and ascended the steep bank on the other side, which was covered with dense bush and thick forest trees. Here we came across a small mud-hole where the elephants had rolled, whilst a little further on they had stopped to rub themselves against the trees. They had then left this belt of bush and forest, and gone on across undulating country covered with long cane-like grass and a few small trees, one or two of which they had torn down, and had loitered to feed on the young shoots and twigs. We also found fresh dung which was still warm inside when I kicked off the outer surface and tested it with the back of my hand. This was decidedly encouraging, and we pushed on as fast as we could plod through the heavy ground. A little further on we received a check, as another small herd had got on to the track, but fortunately had turned off in a different direction after going a few hundred yards, and we were once more able to get along and make up for lost time. About eleven o’clock I sat down to have a short rest, but on starting again and arriving at the top of a big rise, from which I had a good view of the surrounding country, I felt inclined to give in, as I could see no covert in which the elephants were likely to take up their quarters for the day.

We went on, however, and shortly afterwards came to a patch of dense bush down in a hollow, which I had been unable to see before, where they had again waited for a time. At 12.30 we came to the top of another rise, and I saw a large bit of forest and dense bush lying in the hollow below us. My spirits began to rise, but before entering it I sat down for another short rest, feeling quite sure that the elephants were inside, as we had just found some dung that was quite warm. As I sat smoking a pipe I heard the crack of a branch being broken ring through the forest. Jumping up and putting two or three cartridges both for the 4-bore and 8-bore into my pockets, we entered the dense bush, which was some 15 to 20 ft. high, and soon afterwards heard the crack of another branch right ahead of us. Thinking the elephants might be scattered about feeding, and not wishing to run the risk of any of them getting our wind, I sent one of my gun-bearers up a tall thin tree to see if he could make out their whereabouts. He soon spotted them, well to windward of us, about 150 yards off, and on coming down from the tree reported that they were all together, moving along slowly and feeding as they went. Taking the 4-bore from the second gun-bearer, I crept forward with my head gun-bearer carrying the 8-bore, and on coming to a place where the covert was rather more open, I saw a large dark bush violently shaken some 70 yards ahead of us, and at the same time heard another branch being torn off a tree more to my right.

I then sent my gun-bearer through a small gap in the bush on my right to see if he could sight the beast that had broken the branch, and in a very few seconds he signalled to me by snapping his fingers (the usual method of attracting attention). As I crept through the gap I saw two elephants about 70 yards off in a small open hollow, one standing stern end on, the other, a grand beast, broadside on, but with only his head showing from behind a big bush. As 70 yards is too far for a head shot, T crept forward to within 40 yards of him; but at that moment he stepped out clear of the bush, giving me a grand chance, of which I immediately availed myself, and before he knew where he was he had received a 4-bore bullet behind the shoulder, but a trifle too high. The dense cloud of smoke hanging in the damp heavy atmosphere prevented me from getting a shot at the other one before he disappeared in the bush. On going up to where the one I shot at had stood there was no difficulty in finding blood, and on following up his spoor we came across him in about 200 yards, standing in dense bush, evidently very sick and unable to move, and another couple of shots killed him. He was a splendid beast, the finest I have ever killed, but as I only had a small steel yard measure with me I was unable to measure him properly. His tusks were 7 ft. and 6 ft. 9 in. long respectively, and weighed about 60 lbs. apiece; his forefeet measured 54 in. in circumference, and the length of his ear was 5 ft. 4 in.

Although the hunting of elephants is as a rule very hard and trying work, there is always the possibility of getting them without much trouble, as happened to myself one day in Turkwel, a district in the Suk country east of Mount Elgon. While the camp was being pitched a porter came up to say that when collecting firewood in the bush he had seen elephants close by, and had left them quietly feeding and standing about. Though it seemed very improbable that I should find them after all the noise that had been and still was going on amongst the men, I went out and found a herd of some twenty-five elephants, standing within 600 yards of camp. The country was undulating and very open, and as the grass had lately been burnt there was no covert excepting table-topped mimosa trees, while to make matters worse the elephants were much scattered and standing on the other side of a swampy hollow, with the exception of one bull, which was standing in it. With great difficulty I managed to crawl up to a fallen tree on the edge of the swamp, and within about 80 yards of where the bull was standing. Resting the 4-bore on the fallen tree, I took a steady shot at him as he was in the act of drinking, and gave him another bullet from the 8-bore far back in the ribs, which, as he turned, raked forward into his vitals. Running forward into the swamp, I gave a fine cow a good shot behind the shoulder with the left barrel, and again getting hold of the 4-bore gave another cow a shot, but too far back and low down, and before I could get through the swamp the herd went off. The bull after going less than 100 yards fell over dead, and another couple of shots finished the first cow; then followed a long chase after the other cow, which I finally got with a shot almost in the ear-hole, after giving her a great number of ineffectual body shots.