50 ON THE FRONTIEE, 



So quietly, so gently had he strolled along on the close 

 carpet of grass that the sound of his footfall had been undis- 

 tinguishable from the general noises. 



The bull stood before me as though he had been an 

 apparition. 



The huge head was lowered, his beard reaching to the 

 ground. His monstrous mane hung round his neck bigger 

 than that of any lion's. His keen, wicked eyes glared at me. 

 His strong, short, sharp black horns stuck viciously out in my 

 direction. He at once commenced to paw the ground and 

 bellow. 



I found out afterwards he was not as large as the universe, 

 that he was only an ordinarily fine bull, but at that time 

 he suddenly grew and spread, until space became one mass 

 of black curling hair, bristling with horns, and glowing with 

 eyes. 



Slowly and gently I lowered my head, flattened myself out 

 like a burrowing beetle, and held my breath. The least 

 aggressive movement and the bull would have charged ; and 

 he was so near there would have been neither time nor room 

 to handle a rifle. 



For a quarter of an hour I lay perfectly still perhaps 

 it was only two minutes and a half, but it seemed a quarter 

 of an hour then I tried another look. He was not in 

 front of me. I sat back on my heels and gave a sigh of 

 relief. My life had not been worth a pin's point. I looked 

 around and saw him. He had got quite small again, and 

 was making off, walking slowly up the rising ground to my 

 right. 



Now was the time to get even with him for nearly scaring 



