He
had winded us or my pipe, I do not know which, and, after the fashion
of these brutes, had charged up the scent. I could not rise, I could
not even get the gun up, I had no time. All that I was able to do was
to roll over as far out of the monster's path as the bush would allow.
Another second and he was over me, his great bulk towering above me
like a mountain, and, upon my word, I could not get his smell out of my
nostrils for a week. Circumstances impressed it on my memory, at least I
suppose so. His hot breath blew upon my face, one of his front feet just
missed my head, and his hind one actually trod upon the loose part of
my trousers and pinched a little bit of my skin. I saw him pass over me
lying as I was upon my back, and next second I saw something else. My
men were a little behind me, and therefore straight in the path of the
rhinoceros. One of them flung himself backwards into the bush, and thus
avoided him. The second with a wild yell sprung to his feet, and bounded
like an india-rubber ball right into the aloe bush, landing well among
the spikes. But the third, it was my friend Gobo, could not by any means
get away. He managed to gain his feet, and that was all. The rhinoceros
was charging with his head low; his horn passed between Gobo's legs,
and feeling something on his nose, he jerked it up. Away went Gobo, high
into the air. He turned a complete somersault at the apex of the curve,
and as he did so, I caught sight of his face.
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