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Updated: July 3, 2025
It gives every one a chance, so to speak, to shake down well into the saddle. We had gone but a short distance, however, when one thing became strikingly apparent: Gobbet did not know how to ride! He was mounted on a white African pony that we had found it necessary to add to our string. The pony was stolid, lazy, and easy-gaited, but Gobbet's unfamiliar attitude toward his mount was unmistakable.
The chase followed after, and Kearton went into action on the north and Gobbet on the south, near a small thorn tree, with a negro porter beside him. The rhino caught sight of Gobbet's camera and charged. The porter went up the tree like a flash.
"That's what I thought, but I wanted to make sure It's a likely place, this Rugged Rocks," he continued over his shoulder. "We might easily find one to-morrow." Means on his big bay borrowed a drink of water from Gobbet's canteen, and rode on after the others. The march of the safari grew slower and slower.
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