64 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 



now concentrated on the actions of the bull. He again 

 passed quite close to the tree ; again went out or rather 

 blundered out into the open for fifty yards or so. I thought 

 he might be giving up the quest and following in the tracks 

 of the herd. But he circled round and once more entered 

 the forest. 



As I lost sight of him I peered down through the leaves, 

 the foliage was scanty below me, to see if I could perceive 

 the rifle. On jumping up from the ground in my second 

 attempt to get into the tree I had left the rifle where it 

 had fallen after my first desperate effort. So I was unarmed 

 and helpless. From where I sat I could see nothing, but on 

 moving a little I got a wider view, and — yes, there lay the 

 rifle about ten yards from the foot of the tree. Though 

 tantalizing, it gave me some comfort to see it there. 



Again the bull approached. This time he came quite 

 close and circled round the tree. His course seemed aimless 

 at first, but I cannot make up my mind that it was. Nor 

 could I say definitely that he ever saw me in my present 

 position. What he actually did was to blunder round the 

 tree at about fifteen to twenty paces away and then sit 

 down. He was in full view when he stopped and sat down, 

 and I was thunderstruck at the proceeding. The only 

 conceivable explanation that I could at the time give to 

 account for this was that he had scented his enemy and was 

 going to wait for him. It really appears the only plausible 

 explanation of this and similar incidents which have been 

 recorded. To say that my heart sank into my boots does 

 not adequately portray my feelings. At first I buoyed 

 myself up with the hope that he was so hard hit that he 

 was dying but I soon had to give up that idea. He was 

 sitting diagonally, head facing me, ears flung forward, the 

 picture of alertness and, so it seemed to my anxious gaze, 

 wickedness. For an hour, or perhaps longer, I did not keep 

 count of time at that juncture, I sat holding on like grim 

 death to my tree, dazed and despairing. The sun got hotter 

 and hotter, and I could feel it beating on to my topi and 

 through it on to the top of my head, in spite of the leafy 

 screen above me. It may have been this intensity of heat 

 that at last woke me to reality again. 



Quite suddenly I found myself looking at the bull. He 

 was still apparently in the same position. He surely must 

 be dead I thought. Then I glanced downwards and my 



