and at each charge of the enemy he had scrambled 

 back out of range without the least pretence of taking 

 liberties. 



This time the sable drove him steadily back towards 

 the tree, but in the last step, just as the bull made his 

 rush, Jock jumped past the tree and instead of scramb- 

 ling back out of reach as before, dodged round and was 

 in the rear of the buck before it could turn on him. 

 There were no flying heels to fear then, and without 

 an instant's hesitation he fastened on one of the hind- 

 legs above the hock. With a snort of rage and in- 

 dignation the sable spun round and round, kicking 

 and plunging wildly and making vicious sweeps with 

 his horns ; but Jock, although swung about and 

 shaken like a rat, was out of reach and kept his grip. 

 It was a quick and furious struggle, in which I was 

 altogether forgotten, and as one more desperate 

 plunge brought the bull down in a struggling kicking 

 heap with Jock completely hidden under him, I ran 

 up and ended the fight. 



It always took him some time to calm down after 

 these tussles : he became so wound up by the excite- 

 ment of the struggle that time was needed to run down 

 again, so to say. While I was busy on the double 

 precaution of fixing up a scare for the aasvogels and 

 cutting grass and branches to cover the buck, Jock 

 moved restlessly round the sable, ever ready to pounce 

 on him again at the least sign of life. The slithering 

 tongue and wide-open mouth looked like a big red 

 gash splitting his head in two ; he was so blown, his 

 breath came and went like the puffing of a diminutive 



440 



