I began to think he was a mirage.

For a wounded animal, with two five-hundred-grain shells in his shoulder, he was the most astonishing example of vitality I have ever seen.

He would have been safe against a Gatling gun.

There were more low trees a mile farther on, and I plodded doggedly on in the hope of getting a little relief from the sun.

As I drew near I noticed a rhino standing under the trees, but he was not the wounded one.