For weapons, I took from America an 8- and a 9-millimeter Mannlicher and a 12-bore, double-barreled shotgun; and in London procured a double-barreled .450 cordite express, and an 8-millimeter Mannlicher as an extra gun.

The ammunition consisted of 250 cartridges for the .450, of which 125 had solid steel and 125 had soft-nose bullets; 500 soft-nose bullets for each of the 8- and 9-millimeter Mannlichers, and 500 No. 6 shotgun cartridges, all in brass shells, to prevent swelling from dampness. This supply I found more than I needed, and I disposed of the surplus in Nairobi when I left.

I tried very hard to get Mrs. Madeira to shoot either birds or some of the small antelope, and for that purpose had taken a shotgun and a light rifle. She, however, resolutely declined, saying that she hated to see animals killed, except the dangerous ones, and throughout the entire trip she neither fired a shot nor carried a weapon of any kind, not even a small revolver.

She made the entire journey armed with nothing but a riding whip, and as she almost invariably accompanied us on our hunting expeditions, hardly ever remaining in camp, she saw all the animals we encountered, and was in at the death of at least one of each variety, except the buffalo. Her experience the night she was lost gave her all the acquaintance with these that was desirable. She had no fear of any of them, and accompanied us in every one of our stalks until the last short distance, when she would sit quietly and watch the proceedings.

Her experience in this way was most unique and interesting. At the present time outfitting firms in Africa will arrange to supply sportsmen with camp equipment, porters, food, etc., for. one hundred pounds per month per man, the outfit comprising everything needful except ammunition, clothes, riding animals, and luxuries, such as champagne, etc. Our safari was directed by a Somali headman, with a native head porter under him. The wages of the headman were seventy-five rupees per month, a rupee being about thirty-three cents in American currency. We started with two gun-bearers, a Somali at seventy-five and a second gun-bearer—a Swahili—at forty rupees per month; two tent boys, or personal attendants, one for Mrs. Madeira and one for me, at fifty rupees; a Somali cook at fifty rupees; and two syces for our riding animals at twenty rupees.

All the Somalis spoke English more or less, some of them quite well. The wages of a good Swahili porter, who carries sixty pounds, are ten rupees per month, while men of inferior tribes, such as the Kikuyu, who are not so strong and can carry but forty pounds, receive but four rupees. To these wages is added their food, which in the case of a Somali consists of rice, tea, sugar, and "ghee," the latter a sort of butter of which he is very fond, while the Swahili and other tribes receive as rations native beans or flour, whichever may be available in the country through which you are passing. The ordinary ration, or "posho," is two pounds of rice daily for a Somali, and one and a half pounds of flour for a Swahili, all of which is measured out in a "kibaba," or cup, holding about this quantity. This "posho" is usually issued every other day or so, under the direction of the headman, assisted by the askaris to keep order.

We had three of these latter, their duties being practically those of policemen and soldiers of the caravan. On the march one is usually at the front, one at the middle, and one at the rear of the safari, their duty here being to help the porters lift the loads on their heads, to take care of stragglers, and to see that none of the men desert. The askaris are armed with rifles of ancient model and are supposed to protect the porters from attacks by wild beasts or other enemies, but I cannot believe that either as marksmen or in any other way they would be dangerous to anything or any one outside the caravan. Personally, I should rather be in front of their guns than behind them. In camp they keep order and administer to unruly porters any punishment that may be necessary; and also keep watch at night and tend the fires, taking turn-about from dark until daylight. They are usually Swahilis or Sudanese, and often have seen service in the King's African Rifles. As they are supposedly more intelligent than the porters, they receive a few rupees per month higher wages.

Hey, no mention of tips!

No Mark Sullivan, Saeed? I kid, I kid.

Heck he didn't mention Trump either....

Therapy maybe???

quote:

Originally posted by Opus1:
Heck he didn't mention Trump either....

Therapy maybe???

Or Blasers.....

If we are talking 1910-ish, that comes to about $15-20,000 per month in present day US dollars.

Such a deal!

I might never come back home at those prices.

quote:

Originally posted by dogcat:

quote:

Originally posted by Opus1:
Heck he didn't mention Trump either....

Therapy maybe???

Or Blasers.....

So sorry to say "those were the days"

The world had real men, and real rifles then.

Think Churchill and Mausers.

Things like talking to buffalo to ask their choice of death, straight pull and bone spurs were not invented yet!

His wife did not like to hunt, but she went along with her husband.

No spineless Harry and Hollywood Bimbo Meghan in those days either!

Yes.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS

Definitely a better time for men like us.

quote:

Originally posted by ledvm:
Definitely a better time for men like us.

Exactly!

Hollywood bimbos did not exist to turn spineless husbands into wimps.

And I don’t think BONE SPURS existed as an excuse in the military either!

And Kenya was a hunting paradise.

Now we glorify everything that we used to stand against!

quote:

Originally posted by Saeed:
Now we glorify everything that we used to stand against!

Almost, though not quite everything, but sadly too close to true.
In a few more years it may be true here, the way things are going with the U.S. Dimwitcratic Party.

quote:

Originally posted by ledvm:
Definitely a better time for men like us.

+1

I was surprised to find that bathing in the middle of the day in some of the delightful rivers that we saw was absolutely tabooed by all authorities on African travel, and our baths were taken late in the evening, and always with hot and not cold water. We were warned about this by everybody, and followed the custom with remarkable success, so far as our health was concerned.


While traveling on the Athi Plains we were driven nearly crazy by ticks, which covered every blade of grass and made life a burden until we applied a preparation of cosmoline and a drug which I had procured at Nairobi, by means of which we subsequently avoided any discomfort.

The country was very hilly and rolling, and covered with high grass, making it difficult to hunt in. Shortly before noon I encountered a rhinoceros coming my way, and hit him with both barrels of my .450, but did not stop him. He went off at a great pace, charging across just in front of me and not far away, leaving a trail of blood which we followed through the grass, here three to four feet high. We tracked him for a quarter of a mile or more, but finally some thick bush and then absence of grass helped lose the trail, and we never saw him again. While pursuing the rhino I saw some reedbuck and waterbuck. After stalking them within gunshot, I found that they were all does, and therefore did not shoot. While we were hunting for the rhino's track one of my porters saw a leopard dash by within twenty yards of him, but I was on the other side of a slight rise, and did not see it. We beat up all the bush country around where he had been seen to enter, but without success.

We placed Mrs. Madeira on top of a high anthill, so that she could see the proceedings, and after a long, hard chase the lioness took to the bushes, which were extremely dense and almost impenetrable. Williams took a flying shot at her just as she jumped in, and the bullet came very close to her. He then very recklessly proceeded into the bush after her, and while crawling around just inside, so as to look underneath the bushes, made use of a rhino-path. I was on the outside, waiting for the lioness to come out if she would, and heard him call to look out for a rhino which at that moment charged down the path, barely giving him time to throw himself into the bushes on one side to escape. The rhino came out some distance away from him, but near me, giving me a shot at it on the run, which, however, failed to do anything but hurry it along.

Wounding and losing 2 rhino in the same day,
using a ".450 cordite express" double rifle after 1900,
before the term Nitro Express was in vogue.
Might have been a Nitro for BP Express ?
But it had "solid steel" and "soft-nose" bullets, suggesting the 70-grain Cordite charge with 480-gr bullets of full Nitro Express loadings.
Mr. Madeira likely shot about as well as Teddy Roosevelt.

quote:

Originally posted by ledvm:
Definitely a better time for men like us.

True words indeed, for men like us, privileged to still be a part of a lifestyle we deem great, sadly eroding by the minute.

Not sure who of you is familiar with the Rhodesiana books based loosely on the Pioneers and early settlers of southern Africa. Many a fine tale of the early hunting was to be had in the day. Men of free spirit. Men of adventure. Men of their time.

I happened upon a YouTube video last night, not of hunting but of my other passion; sailing. It's a story of a young man who worked the stock exchanges, but wanted more. He sailed around the world. What makes this story more incredible is that he was filled with free spirit and adventure and wanted more than what life was throwing at him. He was seemingly reckless, yet calculating, for he knew what he wanted and went out to find it. He was 28 when he died of typhoid in India, having circumnavigated the world - his dream. He was born in 1985.

In this day and age of millenials and ridiculous regulations, I find his story heartwarming - here was a guy, younger than my own kids, who said "Screw the world and her rules; Im outta here!!"

Not hunting related but inspiring in that a kid of his time had the boldness and willpower to seek adventure, and finding it.

For those interested in the story, it's called Chasing Bubbles.

quote:

Originally posted by Saeed:

quote:

Originally posted by dogcat:

quote:

Originally posted by Opus1:
Heck he didn't mention Trump either....

Therapy maybe???

Or Blasers.....

So sorry to say "those were the days"

The world had real men, and real rifles then.

Think Churchill and Mausers.

Things like talking to buffalo to ask their choice of death, straight pull and bone spurs were not invented yet!

His wife did not like to hunt, but she went along with her husband.

No spineless Harry and Hollywood Bimbo Meghan in those days either!

Yes.

THOSE WERE THE DAYS

I have to agree with this post above.
….........…........ ..... It seems Saeed had a pair of fine safari rifles for Africa! MacD37

By this time I was discouraged with my shooting, for I had shot nothing since the 22d of December. Explanations for this may be many, but one of them, I am satisfied, partially answers the question. The intense light, coupled with heat vibration, renders judgment as to distance extremely uncertain in the middle of the day. There is always the strong radiation of heat from the earth's surface, just as from a railroad track in hot weather, which may extend up from the ground a couple of feet.

An animal seen through this when you are lying down, as you generally are on the plains, becomes magnified and looks much nearer than it really is. When a breath of wind blows the heat-waves away, it stands out clear, appearing in its actual size, and much farther off. These alternate conditions are extremely trying, and probably most hunters never get wholly used to them, though they have less effect after a while than at first.

I was in such a worried condition over my shooting at this time that the next morning Williams came out with me to see what the trouble was. His long experience in Africa, extending extending over five or six years, apparently rendered him immune from such troubles. We finally saw a waterbuck, and, getting into a good position, I succeeded in bagging him at about one hundred and fifty yards with my own rifle, which somewhat restored my confidence.

On our way back to camp we encountered another. Williams made a splendid shot of two hundred and fifty yards and dropped it stone dead. In the afternoon I started for a buffalo swamp, a few miles off, but on the way encountered a herd of twenty-nine impala, one with a beautiful head. They were on the open plain, rendering stalking most difficult, and I crawled around on all fours for an hour or two, before I got a long shot, which missed.

Shortly after I saw a great many waterbuck, which I could not get near, so in despair tried a shot at three hundred paces, and with good luck landed a big one; in fact, the best ellipsiprymnus that I got on the trip, measuring twenty-seven and three-quarter inches. My confidence was now returning, so on the way to camp I tried a Coke's hartebeest with a very fine set of horns and succeeded in dropping him at the first shot. By this time, after such a good day, I felt more encouraged, and had no return of bad marksmanship during the balance of the trip.

Williams also had a good day, bagging a rhino about three miles from camp, an impala and a warthog. He left some of the men to watch the rhino, and they stayed up all night to keep off the hyenas and birds, at the same time skinning the head. The next morning they brought the head and all the meat in, the first of this species that we had secured.

I recommend President Theodore Roosevelt's book "African Games Trails," first published in 1910. When TR left the White House, he and his son Kermit went on a two-year safari to Kenya, collecting specimens for the NY Museum of Natural History and the Smithsonian. Wonderful stories. Note: TR said his favorite wild game dish was antelope tongue. Don't remember which species of antelope or how it was prepared.

It’s remarkable to read such an honest account of shooting troubles in the field.

Those who don’t shoot competitively with iron sights often forget or simply don’t know how hard it can be to hit a long range target with them.

Not to mention at an unknown and only rudely estimated distance, and with open, rather than aperture, sights!

The 8 and 9mm Mannlicher-Schoenauer rounds were by no means as good as our more modern, high velocity or "magnum" cartridges, either.

Thanks for posting these interesting excerpts, Saeed. Much appreciated.

Can you tell us the title of this book?

The book is called HUNTING IN BRITISH EAST AFRICA. BY PERCY C. MADEIRA.

A question which is asked by almost everybody is, "Which is considered the most dangerous animal in Africa?" This is a disputed point, opinion being divided between the elephant, the lion and the buffalo. Still, the rhino is far from being out of consideration, and to some, it is extremely terrifying. In discussing this subject with hunters of great experience I found them far from unanimous. My own opinion is valueless for I never saw wild elephants, and failed to get closer than to follow their freshly made tracks.

It would seem that the most dangerous animal is, first of all, that one from which the person in question has had the narrowest escape, be it elephant, lion, or buffalo. Each is dangerous, the degree of danger being dependent upon the character of the country in which the animal is located at the moment. A lion in long grass, an elephant in the jungle, or a buffalo in bush and swamps, is each in its own sphere more dangerous than either of the others would be were they in country that was not adapted to their activity and ferocity. Most men are of the opinion that a lion is the most dangerous, but many who have lived in Africa for years, tell me that they consider the buffalo the most vindictive and ferocious, and some who have shot all three, consider the elephant as ranking first.

Their deductions are based upon several conditions. A wounded lion is undoubtedly a terrible antagonist, but he is more easily killed than a buffalo or an elephant, partly because of his thin skin. I should judge that a bullet will range through a lion and do more damage than it would in the case of either of the other two animals. A lion or a buffalo can be escaped from by climbing a tree, but an elephant cannot, for he is able to break down almost any tree that a man can climb. I am told that a lion will sometimes leave his victim before he has killed him, but a buffalo will not.

The latter will track his victim, stalk him, and stand for hours at a time motionless, waiting for the hunter to follow him. Should the latter do so, the animal leaves his trail, turns off to one side and faces his back track, so that the unwary hunter who keeps the trail may be in turn stalked from the side or rear without a moment's warning. After the buffalo gets his man, he horns him again and again, finally stamping him into a shapeless pulp.

I should judge that a buffalo is more difficult to kill than a lion, for the smaller the target the more chance there is of a bullet finding a fatal spot or else missing entirely. The elephant, when wounded, must also be the incarnation of fury, his tremendous strength and intelligence possibly enabling him to do more damage than either of the others. The lion apparently has wonderful eyesight, the buffalo has good eyes and an uncommonly good nose, and the elephant is sensitive to smell, but apparently has not quite such good sight.

All three of them, when wounded, are dangerous to a degree. The rhino is more feared by the natives than the lion, for their weapons are harmless against him, and his terrific rush has a speed that is well nigh incredible. His sight, however, is so bad that he is more easily dodged than the others, and yet one has only to read Mr. William Astor Chanler's story of his difficulties on the Guaso Nyiro, and of Lieutenant Von Haenel's almost fatal encounter with a rhinoceros, to realize that the huge beast is no mean antagonist.

There are many experiences that one hears of in Africa about rhinos that are replete with fatalities, and the brute, himself, is such an uncanny and awe inspiring animal, that he is not to be slighted in the list of the dangerous animals.


A few sportsmen get buffalo, while a still smaller number get elephants, and therefore in looking over the list of fatalities it becomes a question of percentage. I suppose a greater number of men who get buffalo and elephants are killed or hurt than the percentage of men who hunt lions. Somewhere I have seen—but I cannot quote it with authority—that the ninth lion killed generally gets his man. There is one other beast which is not often considered in the discussion of the most dangerous animals, and yet men who have had experience look upon him, when he is wounded, with a degree of respect that places him not even second to the lion.

I mean a wounded leopard. He is the sneakiest, meanest hunter, and the most cruel, ferocious, and wicked fighter of possibly any of the cat tribe. His tremendous agility and speed exceed the lion's. He springs upon a man, biting the neck and tearing with his hind claws, which are nearly as large as a lion's, and before it can be guarded against he has almost disemboweled his victim. I have been told by men who have shot both tigers and leopards in India, that they would rather follow a wounded tiger into the jungle than they would a wounded leopard, and the number of victims claimed by the leopard would make a large total.

In Africa the leopard is rarely seen, being a night hunter, but when he commences to get in his fine work among the flocks, the destruction he causes is almost beyond calculation. A lion will go among a herd of cattle and kill one and be satisfied. But when a leopard gets inside a kraal he will frequently kill every animal within sight, from the pure love of killing. A cheetah has been known to kill men when wounded, and as his size is but little less than a leopard's, I should say he was quite formidable, yet nothing like the leopard, as his claws are not so sharp, and he is a running animal, not a tree-climber. He hunts entirely by eyesight, and can even catch an Indian black buck in the open, therefore he is used in India for this purpose, where he is tamed and used for coursing antelopes, and is known as the "hunting leopard."

Saeed,

Thanks for posting. I just picked it up off of Amazon kindle for $1.99. I will certainly enjoy reading it.

If you look on Amazon, you will find plenty of old books on Kindle.

After passing through this thicket we saw fresh signs of buffalo, and finally reached an old, abandoned hippo-pool, where buffalo signs were thick. A large herd of them had apparently been down to the pool the preceding night. We pushed on past this place for about a mile, and camped near quick water, keeping the men very quiet and allowing none of the talking and the customary shouting that always accompanies a safari on its march. So far as we could see from the route which we had been following, near the bank of the river, the country around here was all thick bush.

While camp was being made we heard rifle shots, and shortly after noon Williams came in and, to the delight of all of us, announced that he had secured his buffalo, and that there were plenty more left for me. He had found a lone bull a mile or two away from the river, had wounded him, and, following him up, had finally killed him. The buffalo was shot back of the shoulder, and apparently the bullet had gone straight through the heart, and yet it had required two more bullets to finish him. In spite of his wounds the animal had endeavored to cross a deep nulla and had fallen all the way down from the top and was lying at the bottom. Williams had followed him down there and administered the final shot.

While he was examining his prize he was promptly charged by another buffalo, which dashed down the steep side of the nulla, barely giving him time to get out of the way, and then continued on up the opposite side. When I saw the banks where this charge had been made, it seemed almost incredible that such a bulky brute could have climbed up the sides, at full speed, which it had undoubtedly done. One of the gun-bearers had been left to watch the head and see that it was not ruined by hyenas and vultures. The entire camp was now greatly excited, for there was a whole herd in the neighborhood of the dead bull, only a march of an hour or so from camp.

After a light lunch we started for the spot, taking with us three gun-bearers and some porters. When we got near the place where the dead buffalo lay we saw Esau, the gun-bearer, walking up and down and gesticulating frantically. He told us that while he was on the watch more buffalo had come to smell the dead one, and that he, perched in a tree, had driven them off by firing shotgun cartridges at them. They had all gone off in the direction of a large patch of bush in which, earlier in the day, he had seen others enter.

Giving instructions to one of the Somalis about skinning the head of the dead buffalo, Esau piloted us in the direction of the herd. As we got a little closer, we found the bush opened up into glades here and there, the extent of them being from twenty yards in diameter to half an acre, and in some places it was so dense that we had to crawl through on our hands and knees. The ground was like a red-hot stove, and the burning of the grass some time back had left a sharp stubble which cut hands and knees most painfully.

After creeping around through the bush, we finally saw a number of buffalo, but I found it impossible at first to distinguish the bulls from the cows. A bunch of them were standing in the dark shadows, looking like big, indefinite masses. Soon I picked out one that I thought was a bull, about a hundred yards away, and, taking a good sight, fired. With the sound of the shot all the neighboring bush appeared to become alive with swarming beasts. They dashed out to the right and to the left in bunches of five and ten, passing us on both sides, and one lone bull came charging over the open space and crossed about twenty yards from where 1 stood.

I gave him both barrels in the shoulder as he went by, but they did not stop him, so Williams gave him two more. I raced after the bull, and, finding him badly wounded, put two more bullets into him, and he fell. Although I should not ordinarily have thought there was a ghost of a chance of his recovery, I did not wish to take even that small risk, so to make assurance doubly sure, I put two more bullets into his heart. I then heard Williams firing where I had left him, and rushed back to find that the balance of the herd were still charging in every direction.

About sixty yards away a lot of them had lined up like a troop of cavalry, at the edge of the bush, and were snorting and bellowing. Things looked most unpleasant, for there must have been originally at least two hundred and fifty buffalo in that clump of bush. As soon as I reached Williams he called to me that the buffalo were about to charge and that we had better run for a tree. This we did, and awaited developments, but the threatened charge failed to materialize.

First British Edition, 1909, signed by author, $1395.00.
Forward by Selous.
Percy's safari was 2 years before Teddy's.

Non Illegitimi Carborundum

Great stories!

I mourn the passing of the rhino.

To this day, the debates continue. Which is the most dangerous?

I would say, nowadays, elephant, followed closely by lion, then buffalo, and then leopard.

But I have never faced rhino. There was a time when they were so numerous that they were perhaps the first or second most dangerous.

But sadly, they were so belligerent and so commonly encountered, and so fatally effective, and so undervalued and unprotected, that they were hunted down like vermin, and nearly extinguished.

And then, finally, these days, the value of their horns on the Asian black market has almost certainly assured their ultimate extinction.

I think, when I read these things, that I should’ve been born 150 years ago.

But this runaway train we are riding seems to have no brakes. Much to the worse for us all.

Sometimes, we all need to look back at the past, and and only then think about the future.

I just ordered a copy of HUNTING IN BRITISH EAST AFRICA. BY PERCY C. MADEIRA.

You will enjoy it.

quote:

I think, when I read these things, that I should’ve been born 150 years ago.

You're certainly not alone in that sentiment.

quote:

Originally posted by Will:

quote:

I think, when I read these things, that I should’ve been born 150 years ago.

You're certainly not alone in that sentiment.

If I had a dollar for every client of mine who told me something similar just before they boarded their Citation to fly home, I’d be a happy man. The modern world does have its attractions.