120 IN BRIGHTEST AFRICA 
group was the second koodoo that I ever saw. The 
first one was his mate whom I was about to shoot, 
totally unconscious of the presence of the old bull. 
He stood beside her, his outline broken up by sur- 
rounding rocks and bushes, and I overlooked him en- 
tirely until he began to move. As he started to run 
I fired a shot. He bounded into the air, and as he 
struck the ground I fired again. The first shot had 
gone through his heart and the second broke his back. 
When talking to people about shooting, I like to 
recall my koodoo experiences, because, while I am 
not a good shot as shooting goes in Africa, my two 
experiences with koodoos compare pretty favourably 
with the best. On the first occasion, one of my two 
shots landed in the heart and the other broke the 
koodoo’s back. In my next koodoo hunt, my shoot- 
ing was even more remarkable and for me more un- 
usual. I came in sight of this second koodoo when 
he was too far away to shoot at and he rapidly ran 
out of sight through a country of little hills and ra- 
vines and scrub growth. I tracked him until I lost 
his trail. Then I decided to try to follow him by 
instinct and, constituting myself an escaping koodoo, 
I went where I thought such an animal should. I 
knew I was not exactly on his route because I could 
see no tracks. Then, too, something cord-like, 
weaving together the bushes on either side of my 
path, for a moment impeded my progress. It was a 
strand of web, the colour of gold, spun by a handsome 
yellow spider with black legs. Twisted together, it 
was substantial enough to be wound around and 
