220 STALKS ABROAD 



into the bush, and presently the 'Ndorobo, executing 

 one of his mysterious flank movements, came noiselessly 

 back to say that he had found him. On we went 

 again as carefully as possible, and I confess that I 

 scanned every thicket pretty closely as all the horrible 

 stories I had ever heard of wounded buffalo bulls 

 came crowding to my mind. Then I saw him, or 

 rather a dark mass which might have been ten yards 

 off or a hundred, for it is well-nigh impossible to 

 estimate distance in thick bush ; the eye loses all 

 sense of perspective. I got ready, and Hassan threw 

 a small piece of stick into the bushes. Instantly there 

 were three plunges ; one from the bull, one from the 

 Masai, and one from the 'Ndorobo. The latter 

 vanished in a manner peculiarly his own, the Masai 

 got up a tree, and the bull stood still. I could see 

 him rather more clearly, and from the sound I knew 

 that he was close. As well as the intervening bushes 

 would let me, I took aim and fired. Not a sound 

 succeeded the shot. I could see his horns, however, 

 so after waiting for a few minutes we had another 

 stick-throwing competition. No signs of life following 

 we walked up to where he lay, fifteen yards off, stone 

 dead. The first shot, hitting him in the shoulder, 

 had gone diagonally through his body and come out 

 at his loins. The last lucky bullet had entered just 

 behind his ear and dropped him like a log. He 

 was a young beast, his horns nearly at their best ; and 

 though not a big head, and lacking the roughened 

 bosses which add so much to the appearance of an 



