A MORNING'S STALK AFTER BLACK BUCK 165 



I whispered this to the villager. The latter, however, 

 pointed out that the part of the ravine we saw was really 

 the top of a narrow horseshoe bend, and that it would 

 mean a long detour to get into the ravine without being 

 seen by the herd. The buck would probably have got in 

 before we did, when we should see them no more. 



" For several mornings I have watched this herd, sahib," 

 said the man, " and they always leave the fields by that 

 ravine and lie up in the shelter of bushes at some distance 

 from here. I had hoped they would have been nearer to 

 us when I looked through. On two mornings recently they 

 have been within fifty yards of the place we are now in 

 when I arrived. It is bad fortune to find them so far." 



" What should I do then ? " I enquired. 



" You will have to stalk them, sahib," said the havildah. 

 " See, over there we can approach behind the bamboo clump 

 for some yards in safety, and then you will have to crawl 

 up to them. He has big horns the black one to the left, he 

 is the one to kill." 



I had acted on the havildah's suggestion, leaving the latter 

 behind the bamboo clump when I started off into the open. 

 After my departure the wily Gurkha, however, noticed a 

 place from which he might intercept the antelope and send 

 them back to me, should they move off in a direction which 

 was not anticipated, and so had crawled and wormed his 

 way in snake-like fashion into his present position. 



After very hard work I had negotiated about one hundred 

 yards and was now wondering how the remaining distance, 

 roughly about one hundred and fifty yards, was to be 

 accomplished. Fifty yards was my desired firing distance. 

 I had loosed off at longer distances without result before, and 

 determined to get as near as possible before taking the shot. 



I had come the greater part of the distance on my 

 stomach, pulling myself along with my hands stretched out 

 at full length in front of me and dragging the rifle up after- 

 wards — a most arduous performance as all know who have 

 tried it. The grass and stuff crawled over was wringing 

 wet, and I was already soaked from head to foot with dew 

 and perspiration. My shoulders began to ache consider- 

 ably, but I had been through all this before and knew what 

 to expect. 



I now lay watching the buck, my head screened by the 

 ber bushes. 



