MY SOMALI BOOK 173 



deep in the pages of the mighty hunters of the last 

 century, from Gordon Gumming and Cotton Oswell 

 to Baker and Selous. And now to me too had been 

 permitted a private audience of the Master of the 

 Jungle. But even Royalty so primeval as this must 

 not be too lavish of its favours, and five minutes' 

 audience is ample for any mere human : or it may be 

 the Monarch was a trifle bored. Anyway, suddenly 

 up went the mighty trunk, and round he swung away 

 from me. And then one after another, in Indian file, 

 " the great earth-shaking beasts " passed silently from 

 my sight. 



On the way^ack to camp a lesser kudu bull sud- 

 denly bounded away from behind a bush whence he 

 had been watching us, clearing with easiest grace 

 another bush, about seven feet high, that stood in 

 his way : I threw up the Paradox and fired hastily just 

 before he reached some thicker cover one hundred yards 

 away. He stumbled forward on to his nose, picked 

 himself up again and went on, out of sight. Rather 

 to my own surprise I had hit him, apparently about 

 the shoulder too high up. I did not expect any diffi- 

 culty in getting him then, but after a few yards tracking 

 proved impossible, and none of our casts proved 

 successful. I was glad to think that the wound was 

 probably not a severe one. 



On the 19th I explored the far side of the Barka 

 Hagar valley, and at a pool in the river bed found 

 greater kudu tracks of the day before. I stopped to 

 examine these and have a pull at the water-bottle, 

 when Elmi whistled and beckoned excitedly from 

 across the stream. It was a greater kudu bull, the 



