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Updated: June 23, 2025
For a mile or more the road lifted and dipped with monotonous regularity, and the burnt land was still on either hand, without a sign of life anywhere to be seen. So when the sun really began to decline toward the west, Gobbet, who had once been assistant manager of the Alhambra Music Hall in Brighton, told the story of Harry Lauder and the liquid air biscuits, and it seemed to do Kearton good.
He had off-saddled his horse and had turned him loose to graze a bit before the coming work, and a few minutes were occupied while Loveless saddled up again and Kearton and Gobbet adjusted their cameras and took them on their horses. Finally every one was ready, and we set forth once more on a wide detour to the north to approach the beast from down the wind.
At eight o'clock coaches and horses were ready, and the King, having chosen about a dozen of his most confidential servants to accompany him, and taken a farewell of the rest of the sorrowing company, placed himself in charge of Colonel Gobbet and the troop of horse waiting to be his escort. Having seated himself in his coach, he invited Mr. Harrington, Mr. Herbert, and Mr.
"I'd better wait till the Colonel comes along," he explained. "The Colonel don't carry any weapons." Loveless stopped with him, and, as Ulyate was somewhere behind with the ox-wagons and porters, this left Kearton, Gobbet, and myself to ride on by ourselves.
To these questions she answered that she was too anxious to profit by the lessons she was receiving, through her uncle's kindness, to waste the precious time in which she might be studying his immortal works. She used those very words, without a blink, and Pignaver swallowed the flattery as a dog bolts a gobbet of meat.
Then we came upon the four special porters with the cameras. Kearton took his machine on the saddle with him, and Gobbet caught up the tripod from another pair of outstretched arms. When we reached the bit of clearing and looked to the left of the road, we saw the long neck and head of a giraffe sharply outlined against the sky. The giraffe stood motionless.
When, after a while, it became evident that we should never agree in the matter, the conversation altered to a sort of spasmodic affair. "I thought this district was so full of big game that you couldn't sleep at night for the lions roaring around you," Gobbet remarked lazily. "Wait till you get among them," said Kearton. "Sais, keep that horse farther away; he'll be walking on us next."
"Well, I haven't been kept awake any yet," Gobbet replied. "I wonder where that wagon's got to," and Kearton raised himself on one elbow and peered ahead from beneath the down-tilted brim of his helmet. Then he lay back again and shut his eyes. "Means is coming," he said. The announcement occasioned no surprise.
After all, the matter was of no great importance. Gobbet was young and thin and active, with sharp black eyes, and the work that lay ahead of us would probably teach him to ride in short order and it did. We had little expectation of finding either a lion or a rhino on that first day's trip. We were traveling on a regular road, making a kind of initial march.
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