Date: 1867
— low jungle lay before us — the giraffes gained it, and spurring forward through a perfect cloud of dust now within a hundred yards of the game we shot through the thorny bushes.  In another minute or two I was close up, and a splendid bull giraffe was crashing before me bke a locomotive obelisk through the mimosas, bending the elastic boughs before him in his irresistible rush, which sprang back with a force that would have upset both horse and rider had I not carefully kept my distance.  The jungle seemed alive with the crowd of orange red, the herd was now on every side, as I pressed the great bull before me.