ON THE COTTON PLAINS 157 



was unusual but a long scar showed fresh on his haunch. 

 And a sulky beast he was ! 



We had occupied the centre of an extensive cotton field 

 that afternoon, and were most of us standing about, too 

 lazy save for a chance nibble at the young leaves of the 

 cotton plants. All to be seen of our morose friend were the 

 points of his long horns, which protruded from the paldti 

 stalks. 



A figure emerged from behind some bdb&l trees and 

 strolled casually and confidently in our direction. It was 

 certainly not a villager, but its advance was so careless, so 

 artlessly guileless, that it had approached fairly close, and 

 was passing on, when something prompted our long-horned 

 acquaintance to rise and display all his black and white 

 glory, as with proudly poised head he regarded the in- 

 truder in astonishment. I now recognised the figure of a 

 sahib t and led a swift flight, the big buck bringing up the 

 rear ; when again came that dreaded sharp crack, and the 

 laggard gave a lurch, but, pulling himself together, turned 

 at right angles, and limped swiftly down the furrows of the 

 cotton, a broken foreleg swinging crimson splashes against 

 the brown stalks. And thus we separated. This episode 

 afforded me a fresh insight into our enemies' wiles. 



Some time after this I annexed a herd of does in a 

 curiously accidental manner. 



One morning, having become separated from our little 

 coterie of bucklets, I had to canter from a village dog, and, 

 further on, emerged from a palm-fringed ndla to find 

 myself almost among a herd of eight does, owned by a 

 buck not much bigger than myself. Halting suddenly, 

 I gazed at them ; then, noticing a cousin among the does, 

 took a few steps forward to greet her when the master 

 of the herd pushed his way up to me in a most offensive 

 way. 



Although his mien was threatening, and the pose of his 

 thick neck extremely choleric, I put a stiff upper lip and 



