CHAP. I. BUFFALO. 37 



game-shooting comes most irregularly : sometimes for 

 weeks you can kill nothing ; you wound game almost 

 daily, planting your balls exactly where you intended, 

 but the animal always succeeds in making its escape. At 

 last luck changes, and for an equal period your most 

 hurried shot inflicts a mortal wound. 



As an instance of this, I remember that in 1871, from 

 June 12th to the 26th, I never bagged a single head, 

 though I was out daily, had many fair chances, and 

 severely wounded many animals. On the 27th I killed a 

 buffalo, on the 28th three, on the 29th one, on the 30th 

 a rhinoceros and a zebra, and so on, with occasional blank 

 days, for several weeks. All the native hunters recog- 

 nise these alternations of good and bad fortune, and 

 ascribing them to the anger of the inhabitants of the 

 spirit-world at some omission on their part, they usually 

 sacrifice a sheep or a goat, and anoint their weapon with 

 its blood. This produces the expected effect often enough 

 to confirm their faith, as, their shooting having been 

 demoralized by an idea that they cannot kill anything, 

 the mere fact of their being reassured frequently brings 

 about the desired result. The following two extracts 

 from my journal will tend to show what even buffalo- 

 shooting entails, and it must be remembered that other 

 kinds, especially elephant-shooting, are far harder work. 



" October 17, 1870. — A tremendously hot day. I left 

 the place where we had been sleeping just as dawn was 

 breaking, being anxious to catch the game on the feed, as 

 there was no meat in camp, and we had all slept supper- 

 less. We struck the spoor of a herd of buffalo about sun- 

 rise, and from that time till late in the afternoon we con- 



