Evening Star Newspaper, November 30, 1930, Page 108

20 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, NOVEMBER 30, 1930. Saved From the Jaws of Hungry Crocodiles - Thrilling Battles -~ With Fierce, Blood- . thirsty Saurians in the Depths of the “African Jungle. - An Amazing Rescue - of Native Women - From Three Hung- t_iles. EDITOR'S NOTE: Dr. Tor- _yence recently returned to the Unit- ed States aiter several years spent “in the jungles of Africa and Asia studying and fighting tropical dis- eases. . In the course of his iravels - through the wilds he has had many amazing adventurcs, and he has * brought back zwith him some snter- esting tales. He gives here an ex- citing account of encounters with - man-cating crocodiles. BY DR. ARTHUR TORRANCE. WAS in Central Africa, in the Upper Ubangi territory, on a tour of in- vestigation of tropical diseases. One day, the chief of a village located near our camp, nearly all the able-bodied men, women and children of the settlement, came running to me excitedly jabbering in a polyglot of Shari, Kubanda, Swahili and pidgin English, about a locally famous crocodile that carried off two young children and had disappeared with them down the river. Almost before I could com- prehend the frenzied gabble of the {rightened villagers, my own natives stopped whatever they were doing to grab sticks, tools and spears and, making the entire district echo with terrible invective, went headlong down toward the river. When the old chief discovered himself de- serted by the excited multitude, he calmed down somewhat and explained that this wes the same ¢rocodile that had been bothering the village for over a year. It was an immense thing, he said. And he pointed out the giant trunk of a large mango tree to indicate just big it was. has a gory history. Several women who gone down to the river for water had been thlessly carried off by the reptile. The year before it had darted out from its sleeping place on the bank and grfabbed two village wlirriors as they were walking beside the stream. A few weeks previously, it had dashed from the depths and snatched a woman and her baby while she was washing clothes, It had also taken heavy toll of the goats and young cattle from the neighboring huts as they ventured close to the drinking places to satisfy their thirst. Even thé¢ dogs were afraid to go near the water, as a number of them had been devoured. It was a thoroughly bad and vicious animal, and seemed to- have a charmed life, having escaped every effort made to kill it. Altogether, it had put terrible fear into all the inhabitants, and the old chief implored me to go “kuja him, owana (kill him, master with the big gun.” WENT, the district engineer; Bowker, a veteran colonist from Kenya Colony, and twe Australians, government officials from Uganda, were with me at the time. After hear- ing the news, they became almost as excited as the natives and were at once eager to go hunting this man-eating, blood-thirsty mur- derer, Taking our rifles, we went to the vil- lage, where we called a palaver and instructed the chief to order all the natives back and keep them away from the river. We told him, ih no uncertain terms, that if we were going to kill their local nemesis, it was necessary for the tumultuous crowd to cease its mad and noisy rushing up and down the river bank. The natives took their calling down in good part, and in a little while the river bank was quiet. A few of the wiser old warriors moved along the stream and, at various distances, squatted down to commence a cunning vigil, waiting silently for the crocodile to come nos- ing up for a sunning. Soon we heard a boy shouting. Then Bowker stood up, a few hundred yards downstream, and beckoned us to come. Keeping carefully away from the bank, we obeyed. Bowker pointed elatedly to the middle of the stream and whispered, “There he is; coming out on a sandbank.” We crawled up to the brink of the miver, dragging our rifles, and in a minute we spotted the crocodile, stretched out on a sand- bank about 75 or 80 yards away. As we looked, accompanied by - it began to disappear and before we could get our guns into action, the water had swal- lowed it. We were all furious, especially at the boy for shouting and showing himself. No one knew just how long it would be before the monster would appear again. In fact, it was s0 slow rising into sight again that I thought it had been scared off entirely. But after about 20 minutes, some one spied a black spot resem- bling a rock, on the farther side of the sand- bank. Then gradually, inch by inch, the biz fellow- began to come out to resume its inter- rupted sun bath. So quietly and imperceptibly did he rise out of ‘the water that I was almost fooled into thinking it was really a rock we were watching. I peered at the little black spot until my eyes ached from the strain, so permanent amd motionless did it seem. But as I gazed, I realized that the black thing was growing bigger and bigger, and that it rose and fell with a rhythmic persistency that proved it to be a breathing animal. My companions were stretched out along the bank on either side of me, all just breathlessly waiting and watch- ing. We uld see the entire population of the village—men, women and children—silently squatting in long rows way up to the village huts, intently eyeing the river and waiting eagerly for the shooting. After about three-quarters of an hour of nerve-racking vigil, with the crocodile cau- tiously maneuvering and edging around to get himself comfortably ensconced on the sand bank, where the sunshine would wrap his slimy body completely, we quickly and noiselessly got ready to fire. As our main object was to kill there would be no point in any one of us trying to rival the others, so I signaled for a simulta= neous shot. I spread out my fingers, indicating that at the count of five we would all let go. It gave us little enough time to aim, but we managed it nicely, sending five bullets plowing into the monster’s head with tremendous and unified force. THE huge reptile didn't have a chance. For a moment it burrowed its head into the sand and heaved its powerful tail up inta the air. Then it whirled over in a complete somersault and, like a wild mustang, reared up on its short hind legs, balancing itself on its tail. As it reared its wicked jaws spread apart and it let forth a bellowing roar of rage and pain. Wildly its front legs fanned the air toward where we were, as if calling us wordlessly the biggest cowards under the sun. “Five against one, each of the five with a gun! How I'd like to meet you one at a time!” it seemed to say. The natives went mad. Womer: and children pattered after the men, as they made a straight break for the river with spears and huge plan- tation knives ready as they ran. Bedlam was let loose. Deliriously rejoicing, they chased along the bank following the reptile’s passage under the water by the crimson line of escaping blood that trailed it. Finally ‘it bobbed to the surface again, fighting its way upstream and thrashing the water into turbulent froth. But before we had time for another concerted shot it disappeared again. Shortly, however, it lunged up once more, with fresh vigor, as tholgh the depths of the cooling water had soothed its pain. But as it thrashed vigorously about in every direction, the natives got in our way, so that our guns were useless. Suddenly it slipped from view, to flash up unexpectedly in the deep water close under the bank and less than 10 yards away from us. We were ready this time. Pumping five more bullets into it, we left no doubt that we had finished it off. The frantic natives now took command. Singing and yelling with increasing Behind the woman, waddling swiftly, their terrible tails stirring up clouds of dust, were ‘three immense croc with their mouths gaping greedily open. fervor, they dragged it upstream, where they commenced chopping it up with great glee and savagery. In less than 10 minutes all that remained of the big fellow, so cozily dozing in the sunlight a short while before, was a small hill of chopped meat and bones. The old boy - had been game to the end, but he was a mon- ster, an insatiable man-eater, and certainly deserved to die. At a conservative estimate, it must have consumed at least 30 unfortunate humans. That evening in camp, after we had enjoyed a well earned supper- and were contentedly puffing away at our pipes, our thoughts and talk naturally turned toward crocodiles. Bowker was the first whose tongue was loosened by memory and he described experiences he had had while prospecting up the Ubangi River in French Equatorial Africa. “Up in that country,” he began, his eyes reminiscently fastened upon the dancing fire, “the crocodiles get so hungry that at times they raid the riverside villages, grabbing dogs, goats and any hapless humans that may cross their path.” Silently listening, I'm sure all our minds wen$ back to that same afternoon. Somebody shive ered, somebody else cleared his throat, and, after a second, Bowker went on: “One afternoon,” he continued, “I arrived at a fair-sized settlement. There were several white residents and a government boma (offi- cials’ headquarters), After I had rested a bit, we played tennis on a grass court at the boma. The last game was just over and we were ad- journing to the veranda of the house, when suddenly we heard a frantic shrieking and screaming. We all turned in the direction of the tumult—which came from the road leading up from the river bank—and were astounded to see about half a dozen native women run- ning like mad, several of them making for the bamboo fence that inclosed the compound, and trying to climb over it. “Behind the women, their heads lifted high off the ground, waddling swiftly on all four feet, their terrible tails dragging the ground and stirring up clouds of dust, were three im- mense crocodiles, with great wide mouths gap- ing greedily open. On <their short legs they were covering the ground fast, and their huge open jaws displayed formidable rows of sharp, ugly teeth. They kept snapping these awesome clap-traps together as they scurried after their fleeing game, making a noise like the snapping of steel traps. Some of the poor women, ex- hausted, seemed bound to be caught.” WENT’S pipe rolled out of his mouth, and sheepishly he retrieved it from the floor, while Bowker, unconseious of this tribute to his story-telling powers, kept on: “We had only revolvers at hand, and those would be practically useless unless a lucky shot should by chance frighten the crocodiles away. But we started running swiftly across the com- pound to the rescue of the unfortunate women. The wicked monsters had apparently lost all fear of humans, for they kept advancing, put- ting scores of yards between themselves and the river., Most of the women had managed by then to make the bamboo, but two of their number were still behind, running more and more slowly with fatigue. The crocodiles, clos- ing up, .would have caught them and dragged them back into the slime of their river lair in another moment had not some of the house boys, who had heard the commotion, rushed up. “From a nearby pile they snatched Iarge bam- boo poles, plunged them far down the extended throats of the frenzied reptiles. Fearlessly the natives went after them, lunging on the ends of their poles like athletes out for a silver cup. While the beasts’ huge tails lashed the ground in agony and pain. they were literally pinned down and were fast choking to death when we \ arrived on the scene with our revolvers. With comparative ease, we placed well aimed shots and finished them. -“Not until the crocodiles were dead did some of the boys, who had been swinging aloft on the end of their poles, twisting them deeper into the squirming reptiles, let go and drop to the ground. They had got all three and were de« servedly proud of themselves. It is jolly cere tain that, if they had not been nearby and gone to the attack so fearlessly, at least two of the women would have been dragged back to the river and into its muddy bottom to await the ripening Mr. Crocodile loves his victims to attain before he uses them for a meal.” Dwent drew a long breath of relief. “That was a good yarn,” he commented. “And one I kinda believey because I saw something like that once down in Tanganyika.” “You jolly well ought to believe it,” exclaimed Bowker, “for it's the truth. By jove, it beats all,” he continued, “that whenever a yarnteller sticks to facts, he loses his reputation for ver-. acity. But feed folks the impossible and they’ll hang medals on you.” Thoughtfully Dwent puffed at his pipe. “I don’t doubt you're right,” he admitted. “But, as I was saying, I had arn experience down in Tanganyika. The rivers there are not so large, but it's sure-enough tropical country, When you're floating sluggishly down toward the sea and the dense mangrove swamps and the dark, oily water are all you can see, a person gets to appreciate any sign of life. There have. been times down on those rivers, after I've tied up by the bank, at sundown, that I've actually welcomed having the smothering silence of the night broken by the noise of the crocodiles floundering into the water. But one time I saw the same sort of thing happen as Bowker scribed.” ? We waited eagerly for him to go on. “It was my own boy,” he explained, “and it happened in the early morning. Breakfast was cooking and the boy had just plunged over the side for a quick wash while the bacon was fry- ing. I was looking lazily over at him, when, al} of a sudden, I noticed a log floating twice as fast as the current 'and headed right for him, It took a second for the idea to percolate, Then, great guns, I knew it for what it was—a crocodile! “I shouted to the boy, but he had alreadwy seen it coming. Not having time to clamber into the launch, he swam, with mighty strokes, for the bank. This made the crocodile turm and, consequently, lose time. Grabbing myg gun, I sent a shot into its head, but the bullet ricocheted off and hardly made a pause in the beast’s villainous pursuit. Then I let another fly with better luck! Right through the eye, E found afterward. But even that didn't stop it. When the boy landed the crocodile pushed out of the water also and raised up on its legs, lifting its head and grunting like an enraged lion, It spread its paws and started for the boy. The shot in its head soon told, however, for after it had gone about 40 feet, it slumped down dead.” Quiet reigned for a moment and then Dwent continued: “ ALL the same,»whatever any one says about him, the crocodile is an interesting animal to watch. You may be going up and down the rivers frequently and, from the safety of your canoe, see them, sometimes half a dozen at a time, sleeping on the sandy strips of beach; or often, a big fellow, 256 or 30 feet long, will slide out of the water and poke into the densepess of the jungle. “They lie so still that to the casual observer their rounded, huge blackish-gray backs look Continued on Twenty-first Page