332 AFRICAN CAMP FIRES. 



speed. Just before disappearing over a slight 

 rise, she stopped to look back. I tried her 

 again. We concluded this shot a miss, as the 

 distance and light were such that only sheer luck 

 could have landed the bullet. However, that 

 luck was with us. Later developments showed 

 that both shots had hit. One cut a foreleg, but 

 without breaking a bone, and the other had hit 

 the paunch. One was at 380 paces and the other 

 at 490. 



We found blood on the trail, and followed it 

 a hundred yards and over a small ridge to a wide 

 patch of high grass. It was now dark, the 

 grass was very high, and the animal probably 

 desperate. The situation did not look good to 

 us, badly armed as we were. So we returned 

 to camp, resolved to take up the trail again in 

 the morning. 



Every man in camp turned out next day to 

 help beat the grass. C., with the '405, stayed to 

 direct and protect the men ; while I, with the 

 Springfield, sat down at the head of the ravine. 

 Soon I could hear the shrieks, rattles, shouts, 

 and whistles of the line of men as they beat 

 through the grass. Small grass bucks and hares 

 bounded past me ; birds came whirring by. I 

 sat on a little ant hill spying as hard as I could 



