THIS rhino plot thickens! We are getting warm, if such a phrase may be accepted in the tropics. Today I saw fresh rhino tracks down at the river. A big fellow had taken a bath at night and passed within half a mile of our camp.

So far our experience with rhinos has been scant. They are around here, but in small numbers. In fact they are not as numerous anywhere in British East Africa as they used to be. They are destructive bo fences and farms and are such fools that they invite extermination. And yet they are dangerous.

The latest story current in Nairobi, as we passed through, was to the effect that some woman sportsman wounded a rhino with a small bore gun. It charged her and her companion, wounding them both, I believe, then disappeared in the brush. The next day a man and his wife were passing through this district in their car, when it stalled in a ditch. As the man got out to crank the car, the rhino, who happened to be standing behind a bush, where of all places in Africa the car happened to stall, charged him, killed him, charged the car, wrecked it, saw the wife, charged and fatally wounded her.

And just after we left Nairobi word came that Captain Ritchie, the game warden, went out to dispatch a troublesome rhino. They met in the bush, the Captain fired; the bullet deflected by a limb only wounded the beast; the rhino charged, bowled Captain Ritchie over, and as he fell caught him with its horn; pushed him along the ground, rolled him up into a heap and ran over him without doing further damage. The Captain gathered himself together, shot the rhino again and killed it.

It seems that it is perfectly possible to dodge a rhino charge if one keeps his presence of mind and is active. The animal has poor vision and lowers his head when near his victim. He governs his attack more by the sense of smell than by sight. Natives say that one can step aside and let a rhino pass.

In olden days when gangs of slaves were taken out of this very country, chained by the neck, one to another, a rhino charging through this line of walking blacks, used to produce untold havoc and death. Imagine such a catastrophe being added to the misery of these unfortunate men. Probably in America today are descendants of slaves taken from Ikoma, our neighboring village, sold by Portuguese traders at prices as low as fifteen dollars apiece, or ten cents a pound for human flesh.

The Masai are said to kill rhino with their spears. As the creature rushes upon them, they side-step his attack, grasp the animal by its erect tail, and, holding to this support, they run and drive their long heavy spears into its flank.

The Wassukuma, or natives of this district, either catch them in pits dug in the pathway, covered with light brush, or shoot them with poisoned arrows. Round about here they have been pretty well exterminated by this method of hunting. It is also reported that they were slaughtered by the Germans at Kili-mafeza, a nearby mine, where their hides were used to make buckets for the hoist.

The body of a dead rhino will attract more lions than any known carcass. It seems to have a long distance penetrating odor that no lion can resist. I think Simson said he once counted twelve lions feeding on one dead rhinoceros.

My brother and his hunting companions who had experience with an active member of the species in Kenya, are willing to make an affidavit to the effect that with all this bulk and general appearance of awkwardness, a charging rhino is as quick as a cat and can turn on a twenty-five cent piece. One of this expedition can also attest to it that a rhino can whip about a tree just as fast as a man can circle it. In fact, dodging around a tree seems to be the favorite sport of this particular pachyderm.

In brush country they are considered more dangerous than in fairly open country, for here they bear down upon one and catch him in the clinging thorns and unyielding undergrowth; which of course is no impediment to a healthy rhinoceros.

Well, in spite of all this we have been after them and expect to go again. It may be that we shall only tickle their short ribs with our arrows, perhaps more than that. It may be that we have to climb a tree post haste and whistle for a rescue party.

You never can tell in Africa.

Our first encounter, you recall, came early in our experience here, and after an attempted stalk in more or less open country, the rhino got a hazy idea that something was wrong and left for parts unknown.