176 MY SOMALI BOOK 



Another long march next morning brought us, at 

 about 2 p.m., to a nicely wooded spot near Daga 

 Hayer. It was close to the bank of a wide river-bed, 

 with here a pool and there a trickling stream, after 

 the fashion of rivers in these parts, waiting on the 

 next heavy rainfall to become for an hour or two a 

 swirling torrent. 



As the camels were being unloaded I strolled into a 

 clump of trees close by, when there came a rush and 

 just a glimpse of the white tips of a pair of spiral horns 

 as a lesser kudu bull vanished in the long grass by the 

 river-side. For half an hour he did not go far, but 

 kept out of sight except for a similar occasional glimpse, 

 defying all attempts either to stalk or drive him. At 

 length he crossed the river, and for a moment I caught 

 sight of his head looking at me between two bushes 

 on the far side. But as the rifle reached my shoulder 

 he turned and plunged behind one of the bushes, into 

 which a speculative bullet followed him without effect. 

 Tracking him from there, he left the belt of cover by 

 the river, and took to the stony hilly ground ; and 

 after a mile and a half we came in sight of him again. 

 He dashed off and halted on the hill-side two hundred 

 yards away. It was no use trying for a nearer 

 approach ; I fired and missed, again and another miss, 

 and then he was off, his horns showing for a moment 

 against the sky-line almost like those of his brother 

 the greater kudu. Certainly the finest lesser kudu 

 I had seen at all. 



The next moment I discovered that the Lyman 

 aperture sight with which I was shooting had somehow 

 got screwed up to the four hundred j^ards mark. 



