Hunting in East Africa 



more cautiously. My heart was beating and 

 my hands trembling with the exertion of run- 

 ning when I reached the nearest bush, and my 

 nerves were not exactly steadied by meeting 

 the vicious gaze of a large buffalo, who stood 

 not thirty feet on the other side. My gun- 

 bearer in an instant forced the .577 into my 

 hands, and I took aim at the shoulder of the 

 brute and fired, without knowing exactly what 

 I was doing. The smoke cleared, and there, 

 almost in his tracks, lay my first buffalo. His 

 ignorance of my noisy and careless approach 

 was apparently accounted for by his great age. 

 His hide was almost hairless and his horns 

 worn blunt with many encounters. He must 

 have been quite deaf and almost blind, or his 

 behavior cannot be accounted for. The noise 

 made by our approach, even with the favorable 

 wind, was sufificient to frighten any animal, or 

 at least put it on its guard. 



My men, who were dreadfully afraid of big 

 game of all sorts, when they saw the buffalo 

 lying dead, danced with joy and exultation. 

 They kicked the dead body and shouted curses 

 at it. Camp was distant a good two hours' 

 march, and the day was drawing to a close. 

 The hungry howl of the hyenas warned me 



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