01

Hunting Elephants With a Camera

Martin Johnson

Perhaps you have thought that the only way to hunt animals is with a gun, but Martin Johnson and his wife, Osa, have spent many years hunting them with a camera. In this story he tells you why camera-hunting is far more dangerous and thrilling than hunting to kill. He also tells some most surprising things about elephants.

A CLOSE CALL

My wife, Osa, and I were "camera-hunting" in Africa. Boculy, the native whom we had engaged to find elephants for us, came running into camp greatly excited. He was out of breath and raised and lowered his hands exclaiming jerkily in Swahili, his native language: "Big elephants—big elephants—all together—very quiet—come quickly! "

In a few moments we had our gun bearers and camera boys with their heavy loads under way. Shortly after, we came up with the herd. There were seven animals quietly feeding on the edge of the forest. Three were cows and two were bulls—big fellows. Two "totos," or babies, wandered about in the tall grass.

The elephant herd was ideally placed for still pictures, but we wanted action; so leaving Osa at the camera, I walked forward to stir things up a bit. As I approached, the big bull, sensing danger, goose-stepped forward a few paces. Then he saw me. Instantly his trunk went up and his ears spread. For the space of five seconds we gazed at each other silently. Then his feet stamped angrily, and he snorted with rage. I knew what was coming and prepared myself as, with a furious grunt, the big tusker lowered his trunk and charged. I turned and ran for my life while Osa cranked away with a will.

It was by the use of such methods that we sometimes obtained our best pictures, but this time I had gone too close, and this old bull seemed particularly revengeful. The other six elephants came tearing after him, and then to my surprise and dismaya dozen more burst out from the woods behind and joined the stampede. The world seemed suddenly filled with elephants, and they were all headed in my direction.

I ran toward the camera, while Osa continued turning the crank. Not that she was enjoying it, but she knew she was getting a wonderful bit of film, and there was nothing she could do for me yet. As I tore up to the camera, she snatched her rifle from her gun boy and fired. The big bull stumbled, nearly knocking over the camera as he crashed by, and fell with a mighty thud. Fortunately for us, the balance of the herd split and passed on.

When it was all over, Osa sat down. And I must confess that my own knees felt a trifle wobbly. It had been a close call, and I would probably not have taken such foolish chances had it not been for my confidence in Osa's marksmanship. She is a better shot than I am and seldom misses her mark even under conditions that would shake the nerves of an experienced hunter. She shoots only when the need is desperate, or when we collect an unusual specimen for the museum; and of course for food when necessary.

ELEPHANT CITIZENS OF THE JUNGLE

I like elephants. They are fine citizens of the jungle. They mind their own business, fight little among themselves, are intelligent in bringing up their young, and have a real sense of loyalty to the tribe. They lead a quiet family life, and never prey on other animals.

Years of work in Africa have given me a close understanding of elephant character. As a rule, I don't think they live much longer than a century. Age and size give them a great dignity. I think the old legend that elephants are blind must come from the fact that they plod along much of the time as though half asleep, paying little attention to other animals. They are so powerful that they are secure from attack and have grown careless through the years.

One day Osa asked Boculy how long elephants live. He could only say, "Many years." He couldn't count far enough. And of course he did not know. I think one hundred years is a very old age for them.

With most game, the larger the herd the less chance there is of getting a good picture, for they stampede too easily. But with elephants the opposite is true; a single elephant is always on the alert, but a herd is usually more careless.

I once had to shoot a charging elephant to save my life. He was mortally wounded, and I prepared to shoot again to save him from suffering; but before I could raise my gun, two of his companions came on either side of him as if to support him, and he tottered away into the forest. This incident shows how loyal elephants are to members of their tribe. I have seen a mother elephant punish her toto with her trunk, push it into line when it was staggering with weariness, and squirt mud over it when it was crying from the heat. Generally they are very patient with their totos, but when punishment is needed, it is given.

BOCULY, THE ELEPHANT GUIDE

We were fortunate to have employed Boculy for our elephant guide. I believe he knows more about elephants than anyone in the world.

Boculy is a very important person in his own land. Some-where in the wilds he has a thousand cattle and two hundred fifty camels which some of his wandering tribe tend for him when he is on safari with the white men. He knows all the languages of the plains and the desert, and in some curious way he can get aid from any of these people when we need it. There is a mystery in his wise old face, and his knowledge of wild animals is indeed remarkable. Elephants are his strong point. We call Boculy "little half-brother of the elephants. " If he told me I'd find elephants in front of the New York Public Library, I'd believe him, for Boculy knows. He could find "tembo," the elephant, when every other hunter, white or native, would say that no beast could be found. He could see things that are invisible to the rest of us. A bit of mud dropped from a passing hoof was full of meaning to him. He could tell what animal had dropped it. The bending of grass told him the kind of game that had passed, what direction it had taken, and even, at times, how long ago it had left its mark.

Many of the plainer signs can be learned by anyone who spends much time in the wilds. But the slight differences in the ways trodden grass falls to the ground, the different kinds of mud, and other seemingly unimportant traces left by passing jungle folk were full of meaning to Boculy, when to us they were almost invisible. It fascinated me to keep up with him in the field whenever I could, for his knowledge was so amazing and interesting. And the way the old boy had of telling me things made it even more so. He would point out to me the different footprints—the sharp cut of the buffalo's hoof, which kills the grass it touches; the huge, soft print of tembo, the elephant, which simply bruises the blades; the four-leafed clover print of the hyena; the water-lily mark of the leopard. As for "simba,"the lion, he leaves little trace of his weight. One rarely finds his footprints. Swiftly and silently he slips through the grass, and it rises again, concealing his passage.

No other African I have ever known approached Boculy in knowledge and skill. Boculy, with his naked eye, would pick out an animal that I could barely find with field glasses. The "little-brother of the elephants," like the tembo for whom we named him, would shuffle along muttering to himself. Then when you thought he was half asleep, he would stoop, pick up a bit of mud or a leaf, sniff the trail, and say, "Over by the Old Lady Waterhole you find five bull tembo, four cows, and three totos."And we would. That was the amazing part of it. Boculy was always right.

Once when I had finished a lot of good elephant film, I gave a picture show for Boculy and the boys. With Boculy on a box next to us, we ran off several thousand feet of film. It was a joy to watch his wrinkled old face. He had never seen a movie, and I doubt if he had understood what we had been doing with our camera in all our crazy wanderings through the jungle. All he could say when he saw the pictures—in many of which he appeared—was "Ah-h-h, Ah-h-h!" He was overcome with feeling.

I enjoyed myself greatly that night. At last I was even with Boculy, for my magic of the camera was even more of a mystery to him than his magic knowledge of the jungle and its ways was to me.

CAMERA-HUNTING

Hunting with the camera has become more important to the study of wild life than hunting with the rifle. Osa and I seldom shoot except for food or to save ourselves or our workers in times of great danger. Osa usually holds the gun, and it is my faith in her nerve that has made possible most of our best pictures. Twice she has dropped elephants at my feet. Once a lion charged me in the open. I kept cranking because she held the gun. At fifteen feet she fired. It didn't stop him. She fired again, and the lion dropped so close that I could touch his mane with my toe.

I usually become so interested in the pictures I am getting that I don't realize the danger. Osa looks out for that.

Photographing wild life is a very dangerous business for the person who hasn't had wide experience and who does not know just what chances he can take with safety. After spending years in the jungle, one comes to know how a particular animal is likely to act. But we take every care, because there is always some uncertainty as to what wild animals will do.

Camera hunting is a life work that I would not advise for many people. It is thrilling if you like it; but for every thrill there may be days, perhaps weeks, of dull, tiresome preparation. Often after endless labor of tracking animals, planning with care, lugging cameras and other things, and coming right up on the beasts you are looking for, you do not get a good film. Then again, you secure a picture that makes you want to stand out in the middle of the desert and shout the tidings to the world.

Boculy found so many elephants for us that we gradually became accustomed to the big beasts and set our cameras many times for them without fear. On one such occasion, when we were in our blind at night, a long file of elephants came down for water. As they approached our flashlight apparatus, they stopped. For several minutes they hesitated, their trunks waving in the air. Then one elephant left the herd. As he moved away, he would stop every fifteen or twenty feet to wave his trunk. He seemed greatly puzzled and finally went back to the herd. The elephants held a conference at which there was not a sound. Finally they went to the water by another route. We got no pictures that night.

One old female got the habit of breaking into our vegetable garden. She particularly liked sweet potatoes and was quite orderly about securing them. Every night she would pick over a space about ten square feet, eating everything in that area and going away without damaging anything else.

We found that this old lady was entering the garden at a hole which she had made in the hedge beside a great yellow-wood tree. Here we rigged up our wires and camera with everything so set that the elephant would spring the flash-light herself. We had scarcely gone to bed when we heard a boom. We dashed out only to find that she had disappeared. We were too excited to wait till morning to develop the plates; so we rushed to do this task at once. The pictures were wonderfully clear. What a thrill we camera-hunters got from every good picture—a greater thrill than any mere game-hunter can know.

Although we doubted that she would return, we set up the apparatus again the following night. Again we heard the flashlight boom and again we rushed to develop the film.

The third night we heard the crashing of branches on the edge of the forest. There was the old lady contentedly feeding. When she had finished her meal, she strolled slowly down the line of houses where my gun bearers and camera boys slept, quietly ripping off the thatched roofs as she went. In a moment the natives came tumbling out of their huts, greatly frightened. The old tembo disappeared.

One astonishing thing about elephants is the way they can vanish so noiselessly into the forest, in spite of their great size. I have seen them melt out of sight with little or no movement that could be noticed. I say again that I like elephants. The majority of them are kind; they know their place in life and are content to keep it.

NOTES AND QUESTIONS

1. Give at least one reason of your own to explain—

(a) why taking motion pictures of savage animals is dangerous.

(b) why motion pictures of animals are valuable.

perhaps you can give more than one reason for each.

2. (a) What dangerous thing that Martin Johnson did is told about in the first part of this story?

(b) Why did he do it?

(c) What two things saved his life and the lives of the others?

3. For what three reasons do the Johnsons kill animals?

4. Give four facts about elephant character that make Martin Johnson like them.

5. (a) About how old do elephants grow?

(b) Why do they seem so careless, and even sleepy?

6. (a) To what African tribe did Boculy belong?

(b) What two things are told about Boculy that would lead you to believe that his home was not in the dense, tropical jungle forests?

7. What were the two main things about Boculy that made him so valuable to Martin Johnson?

8. What signs of wild life can you read and understand, such as animal tracks, different bird songs, etc.? Make a list of them.

9. How are elephants valuable to men? You may have learned this in your geography. If not, look up the answer.

10. Find and be ready to read—

(a) a paragraph that shows the intelligence and loyalty of elephants.

(b) a paragraph that tells what a skillful tracker Boculy was.

(c) a paragraph that tells of some of the problems and rewards of camera hunting.

11. In some reference book, look up facts about Boculy's tribe. Be ready to tell where they live, what they do, etc.