The wildebeeste were out of sight, hidden by grass 

 six feet high, but a branch of the tree beside me served 

 as a horizontal bar and hoisting myself chin high I was 

 able to see them again. In front of us there was a dry 

 vlei quite free of bush, some two hundred yards across and 

 four hundred yards long, and the wildebeeste had gone 

 away to the right and were skirting the vlei, apparently 

 meaning to get round to the opposite side, avoiding 

 the direct cut across the vlei for reasons of their own. 

 It occurred to me that there must be a deep donga or 

 perhaps a mud hole in front which they were avoiding ; 

 but that it might be possible for me to get across, or 

 even half way across, in time to have another shot at 

 them the next time they stopped to look back, as they 

 were almost certain to do ; so I ran straight on. 



One does not have to reason things out like that in 

 actual practice : the conclusion comes instantly, as 

 if by instinct, and no time is lost. To drop from the 

 branch, pick up the rifle, and start running were all 

 parts of one movement. Stooping slightly to prevent 

 my bobbing hat from showing up in the grass tops, 

 and holding the rifle obliquely before me as a sort of 

 snowplough to clear the grass from my eyes, I made as 

 good pace as the ground would allow. 



No doubt the rifle held in front of me made it diffi- 

 cult to notice anything on the ground; but the con- 

 centrated stare across the vlei in the direction of the 

 galloping wildebeeste was quite as much the cause of 

 what followed. Going fast and stooping low, with all 

 my weight thrown forward, I ran right into a wilde- 

 beeste cow. My shot had wounded her through the 



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