feat_summary_path: finished_summaries/gradesaver/King Solomon's Mines/section_2_part_0.txt
feat_book_id: King Solomon's Mines.chapter 4
feat_summary_id: chapter 4
feat_summary: {"name": "Chapter 4", "url": "https://web.archive.org/web/20200804024551/https://www.gradesaver.com/king-solomons-mines/study-guide/summary-chapter-4", "summary": "Quatermain relates how the newly formed party journeys from Durban to Sitanda's Kraal, a trek of over a thousand miles. The journey takes nearly four months, during which they encounter events common to such an expedition. By the time they reach Inyata, they are forced to leave their wagon since eight of the twenty oxen have perished or been lost. The wagon is left in the care of the two Zulu servants, Goza and Tom, who are instructed to seek out a Scottish missionary in the area to take care of the wagon. The hunting party of Quatermain, Sir Henry, Captain Good, Umbopa, Khiva and Ventvogel--along with several bearers carrying their belongings--continue their trip. Along the way, Umbopa further proves his value by chanting an upbeat Zulu song promising a good end to the journey. About two weeks' march from Inyata, the party enters a beautiful area full of wild giraffes. As the giraffes gallop away, Captain Good tries for a shot at them on a whim; to his surprise, he manages to hit a distant giraffe in the spine and kill it with his single shot. Although Quatermain declares the shot lucky and not characteristic of Good's usual hunting prowess in his narrative, he nonetheless relates how this amazing shot gives Good a reputation for accuracy among the rest of the hunting party. The men camp that night and, prior to sleep, hear the low growl of a lion nearby. They also hear an elephant; this leads Sir Henry to consider pausing in their quest for his lost brother long enough to hunt for a day or two. During the night they are awakened by a fearful noise and splashing from the nearby river--they discover it to be the lion and his would-be prey, an antelope, locked in the throes of their death-struggle. Both animals die, killed by the ferocity or fear of each other, and Quatermain's party reaps the benefit of their animosity by skinning both animals and filleting the antelope for food. The next day the party encounters a herd of elephants, which they fire upon. Sir Henry fells his elephant in one shot. Quatermain's target runs away after being struck, forcing the hunter to pursue it to take it down. Captain Good hits the bull elephant, but instead of fleeing it turns on its attacker and charges Good. Once the bull has passed, the party chooses to follow the herd rather than the wounded bull elephant. In all, Quatermain's party collects eight elephants. In the meantime, Captain Good has run afoul of the wounded bull elephant. Quatermain and his fellows hear the enraged elephant, then see it crashing through the greenery in hot pursuit of Captain Good and Khiva. Good falls--slipping on his over-\"civilized\" polished boots--and is nearly done for, but Khiva draws the bull's attention by throwing his spear at it. The bull elephant turns its ire on Khiva, crushing him under one foot while pulling him in half with its trunk. Captain Good is moved to anguish by Khiva's sacrifice, and Quatermain almost weeps, but the implacable Umbopa stares thoughtfully at Khiva's remains and states \"he is dead, but he died like a man.\"", "analysis": "The mixed European attitude toward Africans is again expressed through Quatermain's account, particularly touching on the actions of Umbopa.  When Umpoba begins the chant which keeps the weary travelers' moral high, Quatermain says of him, \"He was a cheerful savage, was Umpoba, in a dignified sort of way, when he had not got one of his fits of brooding, and had  wonderful knack of keeping one's spirits up.  We all got very fond of him\" .  This combination of dignity, cheer, and brooding continues to mystify Quatermain  throughout the rest of the journey.  By connecting the word \"dignity\" to Umbopa again , Haggard sets the reader up for the future reveal of Umbopa's true heritage. The incident of the elephant hunt establishes the danger of Quatermain's usual line of work, thus giving credence to his motivations for taking the money offered by Sir Henry to establish his son's medical practice.  Quatermain attempts to live his life knowing that he will one day die--but cannot prevent it--and so he lives it to its fullest, doing what he knows how to do well. The problem of Colonialism may be symbolized in the seemingly random incident of the lion and the antelope.  Quatermain and the others see: On the grass there lay a sable antelope bull--the most beautiful of all the African antelopes--quite dead, and transfixed by its great curved horns was a magnificent black-maned lion, also dead.  what had happened evidently was this.  The sable antelope had come down to drink at the pool where the lion--no doubt the same we had heard--had been lying in wait.  While the antelope was drinking the lion had sprung upon him, but was received upon the sharp curved horns and transfixed.  I once saw the same thing happen before.  The lion, unable to free himself, had torn and bitten at the back and neck of the bull, which, maddened with fear and pain, had rushed on till it dropped dead. While easily counted as merely an interesting detail pulled from Haggard's own life, it is telling that the lion is one of the symbols associated with England, while the antelope--a prominent species in Africa--is sable .  The one has attacked the other to get what it wants from it, but in the process has let itself become entangled with the would-be prey and killed along with it.  The similarities to George Orwell's later work \"Shooting an Elephant\" are striking. Quatermain's seeming jealousy at Captain Good's \"lucky\" shot further contrasts the two men:  Quatermain is a rugged, world-worn hunter of many years' hard experience, while Good is a fastidious Naval officer who has no business making expert shots in Quatermain's demesne. Quatermain notes specifically how \"Good fell a victim to his passion for civilized dress\"  when attempting to evade the charging bull elephant, pointing out how seriously out of his element the Captain truly is. However, Good's medical skills are brought to the fore, giving the over-dignified Briton a more practical function on the journey, particularly in Quatermain's eyes."}
text: Now I do not propose to narrate at full length all the incidents of our
  long travel up to Sitanda's Kraal, near the junction of the Lukanga and
  Kalukwe Rivers. It was a journey of more than a thousand miles from
  Durban, the last three hundred or so of which we had to make on foot,
  owing to the frequent presence of the dreadful "tsetse" fly, whose bite
  is fatal to all animals except donkeys and men.
  
  We left Durban at the end of January, and it was in the second week of
  May that we camped near Sitanda's Kraal. Our adventures on the way were
  many and various, but as they are of the sort which befall every
  African hunter--with one exception to be presently detailed--I shall
  not set them down here, lest I should render this history too wearisome.
  
  At Inyati, the outlying trading station in the Matabele country, of
  which Lobengula (a great and cruel scoundrel) is king, with many
  regrets we parted from our comfortable wagon. Only twelve oxen remained
  to us out of the beautiful span of twenty which I had bought at Durban.
  One we lost from the bite of a cobra, three had perished from "poverty"
  and the want of water, one strayed, and the other three died from
  eating the poisonous herb called "tulip." Five more sickened from this
  cause, but we managed to cure them with doses of an infusion made by
  boiling down the tulip leaves. If administered in time this is a very
  effective antidote.
  
  The wagon and the oxen we left in the immediate charge of Goza and Tom,
  our driver and leader, both trustworthy boys, requesting a worthy
  Scotch missionary who lived in this distant place to keep an eye on
  them. Then, accompanied by Umbopa, Khiva, Ventvoegel, and half a dozen
  bearers whom we hired on the spot, we started off on foot upon our wild
  quest. I remember we were all a little silent on the occasion of this
  departure, and I think that each of us was wondering if we should ever
  see our wagon again; for my part I never expected to do so. For a while
  we tramped on in silence, till Umbopa, who was marching in front, broke
  into a Zulu chant about how some brave men, tired of life and the
  tameness of things, started off into a vast wilderness to find new
  things or die, and how, lo and behold! when they had travelled far into
  the wilderness they found that it was not a wilderness at all, but a
  beautiful place full of young wives and fat cattle, of game to hunt and
  enemies to kill.
  
  Then we all laughed and took it for a good omen. Umbopa was a cheerful
  savage, in a dignified sort of way, when he was not suffering from one
  of his fits of brooding, and he had a wonderful knack of keeping up our
  spirits. We all grew very fond of him.
  
  And now for the one adventure to which I am going to treat myself, for
  I do dearly love a hunting yarn.
  
  About a fortnight's march from Inyati we came across a peculiarly
  beautiful bit of well-watered woodland country. The kloofs in the hills
  were covered with dense bush, "idoro" bush as the natives call it, and
  in some places, with the "wacht-een-beche," or "wait-a-little thorn,"
  and there were great quantities of the lovely "machabell" tree, laden
  with refreshing yellow fruit having enormous stones. This tree is the
  elephant's favourite food, and there were not wanting signs that the
  great brutes had been about, for not only was their spoor frequent, but
  in many places the trees were broken down and even uprooted. The
  elephant is a destructive feeder.
  
  One evening, after a long day's march, we came to a spot of great
  loveliness. At the foot of a bush-clad hill lay a dry river-bed, in
  which, however, were to be found pools of crystal water all trodden
  round with the hoof-prints of game. Facing this hill was a park-like
  plain, where grew clumps of flat-topped mimosa, varied with occasional
  glossy-leaved machabells, and all round stretched the sea of pathless,
  silent bush.
  
  As we emerged into this river-bed path suddenly we started a troop of
  tall giraffes, who galloped, or rather sailed off, in their strange
  gait, their tails screwed up over their backs, and their hoofs rattling
  like castanets. They were about three hundred yards from us, and
  therefore practically out of shot, but Good, who was walking ahead, and
  who had an express loaded with solid ball in his hand, could not resist
  temptation. Lifting his gun, he let drive at the last, a young cow. By
  some extraordinary chance the ball struck it full on the back of the
  neck, shattering the spinal column, and that giraffe went rolling head
  over heels just like a rabbit. I never saw a more curious thing.
  
  "Curse it!" said Good--for I am sorry to say he had a habit of using
  strong language when excited--contracted, no doubt, in the course of
  his nautical career; "curse it! I've killed him."
  
  "_Ou_, Bougwan," ejaculated the Kafirs; "_ou! ou!_"
  
  They called Good "Bougwan," or Glass Eye, because of his eye-glass.
  
  "Oh, 'Bougwan!'" re-echoed Sir Henry and I, and from that day Good's
  reputation as a marvellous shot was established, at any rate among the
  Kafirs. Really he was a bad one, but whenever he missed we overlooked
  it for the sake of that giraffe.
  
  Having set some of the "boys" to cut off the best of the giraffe's
  meat, we went to work to build a "scherm" near one of the pools and
  about a hundred yards to its right. This is done by cutting a quantity
  of thorn bushes and piling them in the shape of a circular hedge. Then
  the space enclosed is smoothed, and dry tambouki grass, if obtainable,
  is made into a bed in the centre, and a fire or fires lighted.
  
  By the time the "scherm" was finished the moon peeped up, and our
  dinners of giraffe steaks and roasted marrow-bones were ready. How we
  enjoyed those marrow-bones, though it was rather a job to crack them! I
  know of no greater luxury than giraffe marrow, unless it is elephant's
  heart, and we had that on the morrow. We ate our simple meal by the
  light of the moon, pausing at times to thank Good for his wonderful
  shot; then we began to smoke and yarn, and a curious picture we must
  have made squatting there round the fire. I, with my short grizzled
  hair sticking up straight, and Sir Henry with his yellow locks, which
  were getting rather long, were rather a contrast, especially as I am
  thin, and short, and dark, weighing only nine stone and a half, and Sir
  Henry is tall, and broad, and fair, and weighs fifteen. But perhaps the
  most curious-looking of the three, taking all the circumstances of the
  case into consideration, was Captain John Good, R.N. There he sat upon
  a leather bag, looking just as though he had come in from a comfortable
  day's shooting in a civilised country, absolutely clean, tidy, and well
  dressed. He wore a shooting suit of brown tweed, with a hat to match,
  and neat gaiters. As usual, he was beautifully shaved, his eye-glass
  and his false teeth appeared to be in perfect order, and altogether he
  looked the neatest man I ever had to do with in the wilderness. He even
  sported a collar, of which he had a supply, made of white gutta-percha.
  
  "You see, they weigh so little," he said to me innocently, when I
  expressed my astonishment at the fact; "and I always like to turn out
  like a gentleman." Ah! if he could have foreseen the future and the
  raiment prepared for him.
  
  Well, there we three sat yarning away in the beautiful moonlight, and
  watching the Kafirs a few yards off sucking their intoxicating "daccha"
  from a pipe of which the mouthpiece was made of the horn of an eland,
  till one by one they rolled themselves up in their blankets and went to
  sleep by the fire, that is, all except Umbopa, who was a little apart,
  his chin resting on his hand, and thinking deeply. I noticed that he
  never mixed much with the other Kafirs.
  
  Presently, from the depths of the bush behind us, came a loud "_woof_,
  _woof_!" "That's a lion," said I, and we all started up to listen.
  Hardly had we done so, when from the pool, about a hundred yards off,
  we heard the strident trumpeting of an elephant. "_Unkungunklovo_!
  _Indlovu_!" "Elephant! Elephant!" whispered the Kafirs, and a few
  minutes afterwards we saw a succession of vast shadowy forms moving
  slowly from the direction of the water towards the bush.
  
  Up jumped Good, burning for slaughter, and thinking, perhaps, that it
  was as easy to kill elephant as he had found it to shoot giraffe, but I
  caught him by the arm and pulled him down.
  
  "It's no good," I whispered, "let them go."
  
  "It seems that we are in a paradise of game. I vote we stop here a day
  or two, and have a go at them," said Sir Henry, presently.
  
  I was rather surprised, for hitherto Sir Henry had always been for
  pushing forward as fast as possible, more especially since we
  ascertained at Inyati that about two years ago an Englishman of the
  name of Neville _had_ sold his wagon there, and gone on up country. But
  I suppose his hunter instincts got the better of him for a while.
  
  Good jumped at the idea, for he was longing to have a shot at those
  elephants; and so, to speak the truth, did I, for it went against my
  conscience to let such a herd as that escape without a pull at them.
  
  "All right, my hearties," said I. "I think we want a little recreation.
  And now let's turn in, for we ought to be off by dawn, and then perhaps
  we may catch them feeding before they move on."
  
  The others agreed, and we proceeded to make our preparations. Good took
  off his clothes, shook them, put his eye-glass and his false teeth into
  his trousers pocket, and folding each article neatly, placed it out of
  the dew under a corner of his mackintosh sheet. Sir Henry and I
  contented ourselves with rougher arrangements, and soon were curled up
  in our blankets, and dropping off into the dreamless sleep that rewards
  the traveller.
  
  Going, going, go--What was that?
  
  Suddenly, from the direction of the water came sounds of violent
  scuffling, and next instant there broke upon our ears a succession of
  the most awful roars. There was no mistaking their origin; only a lion
  could make such a noise as that. We all jumped up and looked towards
  the water, in the direction of which we saw a confused mass, yellow and
  black in colour, staggering and struggling towards us. We seized our
  rifles, and slipping on our veldtschoons, that is shoes made of
  untanned hide, ran out of the scherm. By this time the mass had fallen,
  and was rolling over and over on the ground, and when we reached the
  spot it struggled no longer, but lay quite still.
  
  Now we saw what it was. On the grass there lay a sable antelope
  bull--the most beautiful of all the African antelopes--quite dead, and
  transfixed by its great curved horns was a magnificent black-maned
  lion, also dead. Evidently what had happened was this: The sable
  antelope had come down to drink at the pool where the lion--no doubt
  the same which we had heard--was lying in wait. While the antelope
  drank, the lion had sprung upon him, only to be received upon the sharp
  curved horns and transfixed. Once before I saw a similar thing happen.
  Then the lion, unable to free himself, had torn and bitten at the back
  and neck of the bull, which, maddened with fear and pain, had rushed on
  until it dropped dead.
  
  As soon as we had examined the beasts sufficiently we called the
  Kafirs, and between us managed to drag their carcases up to the scherm.
  After that we went in and lay down, to wake no more till dawn.
  
  With the first light we were up and making ready for the fray. We took
  with us the three eight-bore rifles, a good supply of ammunition, and
  our large water-bottles, filled with weak cold tea, which I have always
  found the best stuff to shoot on. After swallowing a little breakfast
  we started, Umbopa, Khiva, and Ventvoegel accompanying us. The other
  Kafirs we left with instructions to skin the lion and the sable
  antelope, and to cut up the latter.
  
  We had no difficulty in finding the broad elephant trail, which
  Ventvoegel, after examination, pronounced to have been made by between
  twenty and thirty elephants, most of them full-grown bulls. But the
  herd had moved on some way during the night, and it was nine o'clock,
  and already very hot, before, by the broken trees, bruised leaves and
  bark, and smoking droppings, we knew that we could not be far from them.
  
  Presently we caught sight of the herd, which numbered, as Ventvoegel had
  said, between twenty and thirty, standing in a hollow, having finished
  their morning meal, and flapping their great ears. It was a splendid
  sight, for they were only about two hundred yards from us. Taking a
  handful of dry grass, I threw it into the air to see how the wind was;
  for if once they winded us I knew they would be off before we could get
  a shot. Finding that, if anything, it blew from the elephants to us, we
  crept on stealthily, and thanks to the cover managed to get within
  forty yards or so of the great brutes. Just in front of us, and
  broadside on, stood three splendid bulls, one of them with enormous
  tusks. I whispered to the others that I would take the middle one; Sir
  Henry covering the elephant to the left, and Good the bull with the big
  tusks.
  
  "Now," I whispered.
  
  Boom! boom! boom! went the three heavy rifles, and down came Sir
  Henry's elephant dead as a hammer, shot right through the heart. Mine
  fell on to its knees and I thought that he was going to die, but in
  another moment he was up and off, tearing along straight past me. As he
  went I gave him the second barrel in the ribs, and this brought him
  down in good earnest. Hastily slipping in two fresh cartridges I ran
  close up to him, and a ball through the brain put an end to the poor
  brute's struggles. Then I turned to see how Good had fared with the big
  bull, which I had heard screaming with rage and pain as I gave mine its
  quietus. On reaching the captain I found him in a great state of
  excitement. It appeared that on receiving the bullet the bull had
  turned and come straight for his assailant, who had barely time to get
  out of his way, and then charged on blindly past him, in the direction
  of our encampment. Meanwhile the herd had crashed off in wild alarm in
  the other direction.
  
  For awhile we debated whether to go after the wounded bull or to follow
  the herd, and finally deciding for the latter alternative, departed,
  thinking that we had seen the last of those big tusks. I have often
  wished since that we had. It was easy work to follow the elephants, for
  they had left a trail like a carriage road behind them, crushing down
  the thick bush in their furious flight as though it were tambouki grass.
  
  But to come up with them was another matter, and we had struggled on
  under the broiling sun for over two hours before we found them. With
  the exception of one bull, they were standing together, and I could
  see, from their unquiet way and the manner in which they kept lifting
  their trunks to test the air, that they were on the look-out for
  mischief. The solitary bull stood fifty yards or so to this side of the
  herd, over which he was evidently keeping sentry, and about sixty yards
  from us. Thinking that he would see or wind us, and that it would
  probably start them off again if we tried to get nearer, especially as
  the ground was rather open, we all aimed at this bull, and at my
  whispered word, we fired. The three shots took effect, and down he went
  dead. Again the herd started, but unfortunately for them about a
  hundred yards further on was a nullah, or dried-out water track, with
  steep banks, a place very much resembling the one where the Prince
  Imperial was killed in Zululand. Into this the elephants plunged, and
  when we reached the edge we found them struggling in wild confusion to
  get up the other bank, filling the air with their screams, and
  trumpeting as they pushed one another aside in their selfish panic,
  just like so many human beings. Now was our opportunity, and firing
  away as quickly as we could load, we killed five of the poor beasts,
  and no doubt should have bagged the whole herd, had they not suddenly
  given up their attempts to climb the bank and rushed headlong down the
  nullah. We were too tired to follow them, and perhaps also a little
  sick of slaughter, eight elephants being a pretty good bag for one day.
  
  So after we were rested a little, and the Kafirs had cut out the hearts
  of two of the dead elephants for supper, we started homewards, very
  well pleased with our day's work, having made up our minds to send the
  bearers on the morrow to chop away the tusks.
  
  Shortly after we re-passed the spot where Good had wounded the
  patriarchal bull we came across a herd of eland, but did not shoot at
  them, as we had plenty of meat. They trotted past us, and then stopped
  behind a little patch of bush about a hundred yards away, wheeling
  round to look at us. As Good was anxious to get a near view of them,
  never having seen an eland close, he handed his rifle to Umbopa, and,
  followed by Khiva, strolled up to the patch of bush. We sat down and
  waited for him, not sorry of the excuse for a little rest.
  
  The sun was just going down in its reddest glory, and Sir Henry and I
  were admiring the lovely scene, when suddenly we heard an elephant
  scream, and saw its huge and rushing form with uplifted trunk and tail
  silhouetted against the great fiery globe of the sun. Next second we
  saw something else, and that was Good and Khiva tearing back towards us
  with the wounded bull--for it was he--charging after them. For a moment
  we did not dare to fire--though at that distance it would have been of
  little use if we had done so--for fear of hitting one of them, and the
  next a dreadful thing happened--Good fell a victim to his passion for
  civilised dress. Had he consented to discard his trousers and gaiters
  like the rest of us, and to hunt in a flannel shirt and a pair of
  veldt-schoons, it would have been all right. But as it was, his
  trousers cumbered him in that desperate race, and presently, when he
  was about sixty yards from us, his boot, polished by the dry grass,
  slipped, and down he went on his face right in front of the elephant.
  
  We gave a gasp, for we knew that he must die, and ran as hard as we
  could towards him. In three seconds it had ended, but not as we
  thought. Khiva, the Zulu boy, saw his master fall, and brave lad as he
  was, turned and flung his assegai straight into the elephant's face. It
  stuck in his trunk.
  
  With a scream of pain, the brute seized the poor Zulu, hurled him to
  the earth, and placing one huge foot on to his body about the middle,
  twined its trunk round his upper part and _tore him in two_.
  
  We rushed up mad with horror, and fired again and again, till presently
  the elephant fell upon the fragments of the Zulu.
  
  As for Good, he rose and wrung his hands over the brave man who had
  given his life to save him, and, though I am an old hand, I felt a lump
  grow in my throat. Umbopa stood contemplating the huge dead elephant
  and the mangled remains of poor Khiva.
  
  "Ah, well," he said presently, "he is dead, but he died like a man!"
  
  
  
feat_summary_name: Chapter 4
target: Quatermain relates how the newly formed party journeys from Durban to Sitanda's Kraal, a trek of over a thousand miles. The journey takes nearly four months, during which they encounter events common to such an expedition. By the time they reach Inyata, they are forced to leave their wagon since eight of the twenty oxen have perished or been lost. The wagon is left in the care of the two Zulu servants, Goza and Tom, who are instructed to seek out a Scottish missionary in the area to take care of the wagon. The hunting party of Quatermain, Sir Henry, Captain Good, Umbopa, Khiva and Ventvogel--along with several bearers carrying their belongings--continue their trip. Along the way, Umbopa further proves his value by chanting an upbeat Zulu song promising a good end to the journey. About two weeks' march from Inyata, the party enters a beautiful area full of wild giraffes. As the giraffes gallop away, Captain Good tries for a shot at them on a whim; to his surprise, he manages to hit a distant giraffe in the spine and kill it with his single shot. Although Quatermain declares the shot lucky and not characteristic of Good's usual hunting prowess in his narrative, he nonetheless relates how this amazing shot gives Good a reputation for accuracy among the rest of the hunting party. The men camp that night and, prior to sleep, hear the low growl of a lion nearby. They also hear an elephant; this leads Sir Henry to consider pausing in their quest for his lost brother long enough to hunt for a day or two. During the night they are awakened by a fearful noise and splashing from the nearby river--they discover it to be the lion and his would-be prey, an antelope, locked in the throes of their death-struggle. Both animals die, killed by the ferocity or fear of each other, and Quatermain's party reaps the benefit of their animosity by skinning both animals and filleting the antelope for food. The next day the party encounters a herd of elephants, which they fire upon. Sir Henry fells his elephant in one shot. Quatermain's target runs away after being struck, forcing the hunter to pursue it to take it down. Captain Good hits the bull elephant, but instead of fleeing it turns on its attacker and charges Good. Once the bull has passed, the party chooses to follow the herd rather than the wounded bull elephant. In all, Quatermain's party collects eight elephants. In the meantime, Captain Good has run afoul of the wounded bull elephant. Quatermain and his fellows hear the enraged elephant, then see it crashing through the greenery in hot pursuit of Captain Good and Khiva. Good falls--slipping on his over-"civilized" polished boots--and is nearly done for, but Khiva draws the bull's attention by throwing his spear at it. The bull elephant turns its ire on Khiva, crushing him under one foot while pulling him in half with its trunk. Captain Good is moved to anguish by Khiva's sacrifice, and Quatermain almost weeps, but the implacable Umbopa stares thoughtfully at Khiva's remains and states "he is dead, but he died like a man."
feat_summary_analysis: The mixed European attitude toward Africans is again expressed through Quatermain's account, particularly touching on the actions of Umbopa.  When Umpoba begins the chant which keeps the weary travelers' moral high, Quatermain says of him, "He was a cheerful savage, was Umpoba, in a dignified sort of way, when he had not got one of his fits of brooding, and had  wonderful knack of keeping one's spirits up.  We all got very fond of him" .  This combination of dignity, cheer, and brooding continues to mystify Quatermain  throughout the rest of the journey.  By connecting the word "dignity" to Umbopa again , Haggard sets the reader up for the future reveal of Umbopa's true heritage. The incident of the elephant hunt establishes the danger of Quatermain's usual line of work, thus giving credence to his motivations for taking the money offered by Sir Henry to establish his son's medical practice.  Quatermain attempts to live his life knowing that he will one day die--but cannot prevent it--and so he lives it to its fullest, doing what he knows how to do well. The problem of Colonialism may be symbolized in the seemingly random incident of the lion and the antelope.  Quatermain and the others see: On the grass there lay a sable antelope bull--the most beautiful of all the African antelopes--quite dead, and transfixed by its great curved horns was a magnificent black-maned lion, also dead.  what had happened evidently was this.  The sable antelope had come down to drink at the pool where the lion--no doubt the same we had heard--had been lying in wait.  While the antelope was drinking the lion had sprung upon him, but was received upon the sharp curved horns and transfixed.  I once saw the same thing happen before.  The lion, unable to free himself, had torn and bitten at the back and neck of the bull, which, maddened with fear and pain, had rushed on till it dropped dead. While easily counted as merely an interesting detail pulled from Haggard's own life, it is telling that the lion is one of the symbols associated with England, while the antelope--a prominent species in Africa--is sable .  The one has attacked the other to get what it wants from it, but in the process has let itself become entangled with the would-be prey and killed along with it.  The similarities to George Orwell's later work "Shooting an Elephant" are striking. Quatermain's seeming jealousy at Captain Good's "lucky" shot further contrasts the two men:  Quatermain is a rugged, world-worn hunter of many years' hard experience, while Good is a fastidious Naval officer who has no business making expert shots in Quatermain's demesne. Quatermain notes specifically how "Good fell a victim to his passion for civilized dress"  when attempting to evade the charging bull elephant, pointing out how seriously out of his element the Captain truly is. However, Good's medical skills are brought to the fore, giving the over-dignified Briton a more practical function on the journey, particularly in Quatermain's eyes.