ELEPHANT SAFARI SIXTY YEARS AGO.
By HARRY SELBY
edited draft.by HS
I had just returned from a short safari with African Guides the company with whom I had started my hunting career with Philip Percival.
The year was 1948 and my future looked somewhat bleak. I had been extremely fortunate to become associated with Philip Percival and many of the ‘old timers’ around him in 1945, giving me an invaluable grounding in ethical behaviour and ‘safari-lore’ in general. That was my first ‘Big Break’…. but now Philip was gracefully withdrawing from the safari business.
J.F. Manley, who owned ‘African Guides’ a safari outfitter used by many of the leading White Hunters prior to the outbreak of the second world war, such as Philip Percival, Bror Blixen, Denys Finch-Hatten, Tom Murray-Smith and other notables was no longer aggressively promoting safaris. There appeared nothing for me in the immediate future
Unexpectedly I got a call from Jack Block Managing Director of Block Hotels and CEO of Ker & Downey Safaris , enquiring whether I would be available for a one month safari commencing immediately.
The reason was that two American clients who had booked a month’s safari with one hunter, on arrival had decided that their chances of a good bag would be enhanced if each had his own hunter and hunting car.
I jumped at the opportunity.
The hunter assigned to the safari was Tony Henley, and it would be Tony’s first ‘solo’ safari after serving his apprenticeship with Syd Downey.
Our two middle aged American clients were easy going and Tony and I had got along well. The safari went without a hitch.
We returned to Nairobi each client having bagged a very good selection of trophies…they were also very positive as regards Tony and myself and recommended us both highly to the company management.
Consequently I was approached by Jack Block who offered me a permanent position as one of the K&D hunters. The company also offered to purchase a new International hunting car for me… I would repay the outlay as I earned on future safaris, a couple of which were already confirmed, one with Syd Downey and another with Donald Ker This was my second ‘Big Break’ I was walking on air.
I would have to wait a couple of weeks for the custom wooden safari body to be built on the hunting car and Tony had some time to kill before his next trip..
We decided to go off on a recce. The cost of which we hoped to defray with the proceeds from the sale of the ivory we expected to collect.
We decided on Kenya’s Northern Frontier district for our hunt as the best ivory came from that region. I already knew the NFD fairly well but Tony had not as yet been there and was anxious to do so.
We assembled the very basic in camp equipment … a couple of folding stretchers, bedrolls, a few cooking utensils, plates, knives and forks and a ‘chop box’ containing canned food tea and coffee etc.
We planned to take along two gun bearers and a cook cum factotum who would also look after things whilst we were out hunting… food needed to be carried for them also, we relied on shooting guinea fowl and antelope for meat.
These items were carefully loaded into Tony’s Chevrolet hunting car as we would need to carry a drum each of fuel and water as we would be hunting in an isolated and arid area which could prove very unforgiving if one ran short of either one of these essentials.
Our armoury was as follows… Tony took his double .470, I do not remember the makers name and also a double black powder hammer gun in .577 caliber belonging to his father to have some fun with.
I took my neat short barreled Krupp .470, a sweet little Jeffrey in .318 WR caliber and my Brno .22..
We traveled via Nanyuki my home town situated on the shoulder of Mount Kenya then dropped down several thousand feet into the arid and very hot Northern Frontier District, camping the first night beside the small Isiolo river well after dark.
Early next morning we were on our way heading for an area where my cousin Ken Randall and I had previously had success having collected a bull carrying tusks in excess of one hundred and thirty pounds each. We passed through the little village of Garba –Tulla and eventually reached our destination the huge sand river (lugga) known to the Boran tribe who inhabited the area as Bisanade (white water). At intervals along this lugga water rises nearer to the surface, and at these spots elephants dig holes in the sand using their tusks, feet and trunks to expose the precious fluid. The local nomadic Boran tribesmen clear out the sand and deepen the pits each morning in order to haul up water in wooden vessels pouring it into long wooden troughs for their live stock. It was at such places we hoped to find the tracks of large bull elephants having slaked their thirst during the night.
We were very pleased to note that no vehicle tracks were visible… meaning that there had been no hunting there for some months. This and the news that bull elephant were frequenting the wells about a mile off was confirmed by some locals with a camel carrying water gourds who happened by as we were preparing our small camp. Our chances looked good!!!
When we awoke at dawn next morning what should greet us within a few yards of our camp was a large pile of fresh elephant droppings… they were no longer warm so they had been deposited during the night. We discovered that a small group of bulls had passed without any of us hearing a sound… merely leaving us a calling card.
It appeared that they were headed in the direction of the wells… so we immediately set out to investigate and also to check the wells before the local people arrived with all their stock.
This group had used the wells to slake their thirst and had then wandered off across the lugga into the dense palm thicket which bordered it. Two of the tracks were large so we took up the trail immediately hoping to catch up with them before they set out for their distant feeding grounds. This hope was quickly dashed as the tracks showed no sign of the bulls stopping to feed or loiter… it seemed we had a long hard day ahead of us. They had obviously got scent of our camp as they passed during the night and were not in a mind to hang about.
After about four hours of tracking in the broiling sun we heard a rumble in the distance and realized we were about to come up on the group. However they had settled down to spend the heat of the day in a particularly thick patch of palm and it was impossible to get a look at them, eventually we were able to creep right up to the drowsing group by squeezing our way through the palm fronds getting painfully scratched by the hook like thorns whilst doing so.
We could only see the tusks of three of them, the fourth was obscured by their bodies… so we waited… after a while there was a movement and my heart missed a beat as I caught the flash of a long thick tusk…. however we could not see if he had a tusk on the other side…. so again we waited uncomfortably close to the group.
I watched the constantly moving trunk tip of the nearest one…and wondered whether it would reach if its owner tried to grab one of us.
Finally they all moved positions a little and we were able to see that the previously invisible tusk was only a short stump. What a let down!!!! as the long tusk was in the hundred pound class. We crept out of there without them knowing we had been so close and began that long haul back after a disappointing stalk… the distance appearing much further than whilst tracking with visions of a huge tusker ahead.
We arrived back late in the afternoon tired with water bags empty....but hopeful that we would have better luck on the morrow.
The next day was a washout… we picked up the tracks of two bulls at the wells and came up to the owners about four hours later..,. but they had insignificant tusks… and on the way back we were chased up on to some rocks to escape an old rhino cow with calf who did not like the look of us. We arrived back in camp tired and thirsty only to find a small group of Boran who pleaded with us to take one of them who had been mauled by a lion on his rear to Garba Tulla for treatment
We were very sorry for the injured man and did what we could to help him, but it was most inconvenient as it meant a sixty mile drive over an almost non existent track during the night. They offered us a sheep of which they had hundreds in return for the assistance but what really got our attention was when they said they could show us where a group of elephant bulls were drinking… one with very big tusks. That settled it… we arrived back in camp in the early hours of the next morning.
Just after sunrise our Boran visitors of the previous evening were back… with the promised sheep. We told them that we did not want to take their sheep from them if they could as promised show us an elephant with big tusks… in addition we would reward them generously with shillings if they did so.
They replied that truly there was a group of bulls drinking at some wells a very long way down the lugga and one had very long tusks. However it was far and it would be impossible to go there and return in one day… furthermore the country was so rocky away from the lugga that it would be impossible for the vehicle to go further than where we were.
I then suggested that the two men who would guide us provide a camel which could carry some very basic supplies such as food and water. We would live rough for a couple of days if necessary. They demurred about the camel, saying they did not own one, knowing this was rubbish I sweetened the deal by offering a one pound packet of tea… that did it… they found one I a hurry.
We also arranged that we would pack our small camp into Tony’s car and leave it in the charge of their encampment. We did however plan to take all the guns with us as they could have been very tempting to these wild nomads.
We packed up, loaded everything into the car and as arranged left it in the charge of the headman at the nearby cluster of makeshift huts covered with palm matting surrounded by a thorn fence to keep the stock in and the lions out.
We set off at about nine o’clock in single file as is the custom when traveling in Africa, the Boran guide setting a cracking pace, the camel and its leader bringing up the rear.
We skirted the lugga where possible to avoid the soft sand but due to dense palm thickets or rocky outcrops, we were at times forced to walk along it’s soft sandy bed. I was amazed at how easily the slender Boran glided along, they appeared to walk flat footed not digging in with the toe whereas we did the opposite and made heavy going of it…… scolded incessantly as we plodded along by a troop of protesting baboons from their lofty perches in the tall palm trees which border both sides of the lugga.
When we felt it safe to fire a rifle and not disturb any elephants which might be within earshot, I shot a gerenuk, and we collected some vulturine guinea fowl as well…. food for our group, Africans will cheerfully endure any hardship if they have ‘nyama’.
We arrived at our destination, the wells where the bulls were reputed to drinking after three o’clock and found that there were still numerous animals calmly waiting their turn to drink… cattle, goats, fat tailed sheep and one camel….who looked down his long nose in haughty disapproval at our intrusion on the tranquil scene. There ensued a babble of excited conversation between our guides and the people at he wells with much pointing in a certain direction…. Finally our guides informed us that the group of bulls had been seen very recently grouped together in a dense palm thicket not far off.
We were thrilled by this news and after giving instructions to the cook and the Boran who was leading the camel to remain at the wells and allow the camel to drink and possibly get some browse along the edge of the lugga, Tony and I shouldered our double 470s with one of the gunbearers carrying my .318WR we followed the man who claimed to have seen the elephants.
In less than a mile we arrived at the palm thicket and could clearly see the backs of five or six bulls some distance within it. One of us scrambled up a tree but even from that elevation the ivory was hidden by the palm scrub. We sat down and had a cigarette as it was getting late and the group should start moving ere too long.
We did not have long to wait, they started by milling about and feeding…then gradually appeared to be heading towards the open country beyond the thicket……the wind was from them to us and we moved along the outer edge of the thicket keeping abreast of the group.
Finally the lead animal reached the open country and hesitated, we hoped they would not turn back into the thick stuff… but our luck held and one after another the bulls began to emerge.
The fist three carried very poor ivory, but when number four emerged there was a collective drawing in of breath from our group. He had long reasonably thick unbroken tusks…. certainly in the hundred pound class. The ivory of the last two bulls to emerge was also poor.
We waited for the group to move some distance from the thicket and then made our approach. The bulls were strung out in line and moving slowly as Tony and I hurried up to the big one, but just as we got to within forty yards and preparing to shoot the bull behind him moved forward covering him. Then slowly the big bull moved forward and as soon as his shoulder was well clear Tony and I both fired… he faltered but then regained himself as we both gave him our second barrel. There was a great deal of dust and screaming as the group took off… our bull ran only about forty yards before toppling over.
We cut off his tail which is customary and examined the tusks…. no doubt he was in the hundred pound class… Tony and I were jubilant… as were the usually taciturn Boran guides who now saw the shillings we had promised dancing before their eyes.
After all the hand shaking and congratulations were over it was time to get back to the lugga and prepare for the night… we would not want to spend it close to the wells as there would be many nocturnal visitors there.. such as the group of agitated elephants, rhino, hyena and possibly lions which have a very bad reputation in this general area as man eaters…Some years later George Adamson shot a man eating lioness not far from where we now were and captured her four small cubs… one of which became ‘Elsa of ‘Born Free’ fame.
We decided on a spot well away from the wells where there was plenty of dry wood for a large camp fire and made ourselves as comfortable as possible, dining on gerenuk liver and heart grilled on a forked stick washed down with tea.
The men including the two locals talked long into the night whilst enjoying the meat feast.
I scooped a depression in the sand for my hip and placing my hat over a large well dried elephant dropping used it as a pillow.
I lay musing at the incongruity of our little group that…. two young white aspiring professional hunters, two tough ex poacher Wakamba trackers, one elderly Kikuyu cook, two wild and wooly desert nomads, and one camel should all be happily settled down together on the bare sand in the middle of nowhere under a brilliant African moon…. united in one purpose…. the locating and bagging of a bull elephant with a fine pair of tusks.
Next morning saw us bright and early back at our fine bull… nothing had fed on his carcass during the night and we busied ourselves with the lengthy chore of removing the two handsome tusks. All went well until we got to the stage of using the axe on the heavy bone which attaches the tusk socket to the skull… …new heavy steel axes were not available anywhere in Kenya until some years after the war….. those we had were just not up to it.
We hit on the idea that we would use the old .577 to smash the heavy bone allowing us to free the tusks from the skull….. it worked but all of us anywhere near got pretty well splashed with gore as those big slugs smashed into the heavy bone.
With tusks removed we were ready to pack up and trudge back to the car, but when the Boran tried to secure to tusks to the saddle, our previously placid camel protested vigourously and it was with difficulty that they eventually accomplished it. All went well on the return march and we arrived back late that afternoon at the car which was as we had left it.
Next morning we cleaned the tusks took a few pictures and rewarded our now very enthusiastic guides handsomely with shillings and also gave the small clan all the sugar, tea, coffee and maize meal we had left.
Our men complained that we should have accepted that sheep… they dearly loved fat mutton.
We would return to Isiolo to replenish are food supplies and refuel for the next part of our hunt which was approximately one hundred miles north in the vicinity of a network of extensive luggas which flow eastward and form the drainage of the Mathews range. The area is occupied by the colourful and friendly Samburu tribe…. akin to the Maasai in appearance but unlike the Maasai were never a warlike people. They live a harsh nomadic existence centred entirely around the wellbeing their livestock…. on which they are totally dependant
Arriving in the Isiolo area late, we camped near Buffalo Springs, ,a hole in the rock blasted out by the South African Air Force during the war to serve as an excellent swimming pool. We enjoyed a lengthy swim and badly needed general clean up.
Next morning we visited the main shop in Isiolo managed by an old Indian we all called Ghandi due to his likeness to the Mahatma.
We refueled, and restocked with provisions to replace those given to the Boran…. Ghandi even lent us a substantial axe
.
We set off heading for the Merille-Laisames lugga area traveling along a good gravel road in the shadow of the brooding Mathews range in high hopes of bagging another hundred pounder.
We turned off the road just before reaching the bridge over the Merille lugga and began picking our way over a lava strewn scrub plain planning to reach some wells downstream where I had camped previously. Darkness was rapidly closing in so we decided to bivouac and carry on early next morning… best not to run afoul of a large lava rock in the fading light.
Next morning as it was getting light there was an urgent warning “Faro” from one of our staff. Both Tony and I grabbed rifles which we kept loaded beside our stretchers, and were astonished to see a large rhino bull not fifty yards away advancing slowly in our direction… he appeared to be intent on a closer look. He was carrying an excellent horn and as Tony had taken out a rhino license he decided to take him.
Tony fired his .470 and the rhino spun round a couple of times then stood facing in our direction probably about to collapse, but for good measure. I gave him a .318 solid in the middle of chest... he finally keeled over. We were amazed to discover that the solid 250 grain.318 bullet had traveled the length of this big rhino’s body exiting close to the root of the tail… a testimonial to the phenomenal penetration of this renowned cartridge.
If ever a trophy was delivered on a plate…. this was it…. collected right from the camp.
We took a few pictures then removed the horns and the two front feet.. We packed up and went on the wells where we hoped to make our base camp.
We were disappointed to find very little fresh elephant sign at the wells…. gone were all the bulls which regularly drank there when I last hunted the area. The Samburu herders told us that most of the elephants had moved back to the foothills of the Mathews range within the Northern Game reserve as the bush on which they feed had become very scarce and dry along the luggas.
During the next few days we walked many miles, and were obliged to hurriedly distance ourselves from several cantankerous rhinos…..we were unable to find a bull elephant track worth following.
We began to think that old East African adage ‘that one hundred miles on average is walked for every really good elephant taken’ was about to prove itself true, we were seriously considering moving to another area.
We did enjoy seeing several beautiful lesser kudu males, goodly numbers of oryx beisa, grevy’s zebra and grants gazelle, a few reticulated giraffe and many gerenuk and dik dik.
Hundreds of thousands of sand grouse arrived like a blizzard at precisely the same time each morning to drink. I had never seen such numbers, they formed a swirling cloud of beating wings above the exposed water… whilst the entire area resounded with their calls . On later safaris, fantastic bird shooting was experienced on these luggas..
On the fourth morning we came across a good elephant bull track, and it was fresh… we followed hot foot and eventually got a good look at him as he crossed the lugga ahead of us … what we saw was enough .. he was a good bull….at least a seventy five pounder with both tusks unbroken
We crossed the lugga hoping to intercept him , but the wind was treacherous and he must have got our scent.
Head and tail held high he took off through a patch of scrubby bush in front of us . Both Tony and I gave him a bullet before he reached another very thick patch. We waited to hear the anticipated crash of him falling… but that did not come
We maneuvered around the bush into which he had disappeared, and found that he had not passed through … he was still in there.
Most unusual behaviour for a wounded elephant, either they run until they collapse or keep going right out of the area.
We cautiously crept into the thick stuff following his tracks, and finally were able to make out a front leg, but his body was completely hidden.
We had a problem, we both felt reasonably good about our shots…. if we waited he might collapse, however if our shots were not right he might take off and never be seen again. The density of the foliage made it impossible to get in a coup de grace,
Both of us had heard that an elephant shot in the knee is incapable of moving, so we decided to try it. One of use put a .470 bullet into his front knee and he stumbled but regained himself…. however he appeared to be anchored to the spot.
Finally, we crept very close and were able to put in a brain shot. He probably would have collapsed had we waited.
Clearing the bush away to get the tusks out was almost as arduous a job as removing the tusks, but with a good axe we had them out in good time.
Our very enjoyable and profitable little recce. safari was now over and we returned to Nairobi,… Tony to start another safari in a few days….and I to collect my new hunting car from the body builder which would be finished by then and ready for my next, and its first safari.
