Big Game Shooting 



However, to continue. Up to this, Wilson had 

 had the misfortune of not having had a shot, but 

 of looking on from three hundred yards away at 

 what he thought (so he told me afterwards) was 

 my firing wildly at bushes and grass moving. 



The next thing that happened was the beaters 

 beginning to loose off outside the bush, and 

 at once a huge bull dashed out, giving Wilson 

 a chance shot at 180 yards or so. He came past 

 me about forty yards away, and I distinctly heard 

 the right and left tell somewhere. The idiot, as 

 I thought him, stood after that a little further on 

 behind a thin tree, and I got one more shot in, 

 when down he flopped. I patted myself on the 

 back, and the orderly said "splendid," or I trans- 

 lated it as that ! 



After that more came out and went across me, 

 and I got another two shots in, which told. But 

 I'm afraid the recipients went on. 



Soon after, I saw Wilson's gun-bearer playing 

 about between our perches. I must here say in 

 explanation that when the fourth lot came down 

 on me I had a shot with a solid Mannlicher, and 

 at the same time I heard Wilson's '450 cordite 

 tell loudly on the animal. One of that lot came 

 towards me grunting in pain — Wilson's of course — 

 and the lot shot into a strip of bush between us. 

 Five went in, and four came out. That is in 

 parenthesis. The beaters began firing odd shots 

 again, and there was a tremendous stampede in 



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