“Before I do so, I will mention what was told me by a Namaqua chief about a lion; I am reminded of it by the Major’s observations as to the means animals have of communicating with each other.  Once when I was traveling in Namaqua-land, I observed a spot which was imprinted with at least twenty spoors or marks of a lion’s paw; and as I pointed them out a Namaqua chief told me that a lion had been practicing his leap.  On demanding an explanation, he said that if a lion sprang at an animal, and missed it by leaping short, he would always go back to where he sprang from, and practice the leap so as to be successful on another occasion; and he then related to me the following anecdote, stating that he was an eye-witness to the incident: 

“’I was passing near the end of a craggy hill from which jutted out a smooth rock of from ten to twelve feet high, when I perceived a number of zebras galloping round it, which they were obliged to do, as the rock beyond was quite steep.  A lion was creeping toward the rock to catch the male zebra, which brought up the rear of the herd.  The lion sprang and missed his mark; he fell short, with only his head over the edge of the rock, and the zebra galloped away, switching his tail in the air.  Although the object of his pursuit was gone, the lion tried the leap on the rock a second and a third time, till he succeeded.  During this two more lions came up and joined the first lion.  They seemed to be talking, for they roared a great deal to each other; and then the first lion led them round the rock again and again.  Then he made another grand leap, to show them what he and they must do another time.’  The chief added, ’They evidently were talking to each other, but I could not understand a word of what they said, although they talked loud enough; but I thought it was as well to be off, or they might have some talk about me.’”

“Well, they certainly do not whisper,” said the Major, laughing.  “Thank you for that story, Swinton, and now for the rhinoceros hunt.”

“I was once out hunting with a Griqua, of the name of Henrick, and two or three other men; we had wounded a springbok, and were following its track, when we came upon the footing of a rhinoceros, and shortly afterward we saw a large black male in the bush.”

“You mention a black rhinoceros.  Is there any other?”

“Yes, there is a white rhinoceros, as it is called, larger than the black, but not so dangerous.  It is, in fact, a stupid sort of animal.  The black rhinoceros, as you are aware, is very fierce.  Well, to continue:  Henrick slipped down behind a bush, fired, and wounded the animal severely in the foreleg.  The rhinoceros charged, we all fled, and the animal, singling out one of our men, closely pursued him; but the man, stopping short, while the horn of the rhinoceros plowed up the ground at his heels, dexterously jumped on one side.  The rhinoceros missed him and passed on in full speed, and before the brute could recover himself and change his course, the whole of us had climbed up into trees.  The rhinoceros, limping with his wound, went round and round, trying to find us out by the scent, but he tried in vain.  At last, one of the men, who had only an assaguay, said, ’Well, how long are we going to stay here?  Why don’t you shoot?’