IN THE SAL FORESTS 387 



He is now gazing straight at me. The psychological 

 moment has arrived. Nervously the sight comes to rest 

 about the point of his mighty shoulder, quivers a little, and 

 is forcibly, with bumping heart, held steadily 



Bang ! 



These deadly new rifles ! There is no smoke. Simul- 

 taneously, with the sudden sharp recoil, the bull gives a 

 quick flinch and twist of his body, and, turning before the 

 left barrel can be got in, blunders suddenly and heavily 

 away. 



Reloading as we go on, we are after him, warily enough, 

 however, on the toes of the tennis-shoes, eager for a chance 

 turn to expose some vital spot in that crashing, lumbering, 

 grey-blue mass. 



But is he not cantering strangely, bearing off ever to 

 the left, and heeling over more and more like some squall- 

 struck vessel ! A stumble ! The colossus slows into a 

 trot, a walk, and, standing an instant, sways poor old 

 fellow ! 



Then he rolls ponderously on his side, and over on to his 

 back a sight as incongruously extraordinary as an over- 

 turned locomotive. 



Need one expatiate further, on the gazing, admiring, 

 examining, measuring, and further viewing of the grand 

 old fallen monster on the clicking of the camera, the 

 well-earned snack of tiffin, the cleaning and fondling of 

 the cherished rifle, and the homeward path with lightsome 

 tread ? All that the hunter has toiled for almost all is 

 o'er ; and a certain reaction is felt, mingled with that regret 

 which will perforce push in after the downfall of very big 

 game. 



But that mighty head shall be accorded the post of 

 honour on already well-trophied walls, and thereon live 

 once more to recall those halcyon days in beloved jungles! 



All too rapidly will those days pass, and, with them, 

 perchance our youth ; opportunity perhaps gone, " wind " 



