Big Game Shooting 



had made off. No blood to be seen, which was 

 hardly likely, as I doubted having hit the beast ; 

 and what made matters worse, we were now some 

 little way from the swamp, and they had made 

 off over hard, stony ground. Eagerly we started, 

 working like niggers to pick up their trail, but all 

 to no purpose. Luck had deserted us in a 

 twinkling, as so often happens. We went on 

 and on, separating and straggling all over the 

 ground to try and find their pugs. It is no good 

 bemoaning fate, so we metaphorically packed up 

 our traps and set out for home. We consoled 

 ourselves on the way by remembering that we 

 had accounted for an emperor amongst water- 

 buck, which was, when all was said and done, 

 a better morning's shoot than many and many 

 another in the course of our experience of big 

 game shooting in East Africa. 



Our morning's trek had taken us some distance, 

 and what with all the delays and excitement 

 of tracking, the sun was well up, and it was now 

 about eleven o'clock, so that we were pretty tired, 

 having been awakened some seven hours earlier ; 

 and we walked homewards, not troubling our- 

 selves, in single file, no one taking any care, 

 talking loudly and discussing what " might have 

 been." 



Every animal in the jungle is enjoying his 

 midday sleep by this time, and if not actually 

 lying down in the shade of a friendly tree, is 



218 



