BUCK-SHOOTING IN THE MAIRWAEHA 27 



lowed till the sun was reddening the eastern sky. 

 It was broad day when we reached our destination 

 — a native village. Here the sleepy herdsmen were 

 just beginning to unpen and drive out their herds 

 of curious - looking goats and sheep, exactly in the 

 same way that their forefathers did one — and prob- 

 ably two — thousand years ago. These villages still 

 present the same roughly defensive aspect, cluster- 

 ing as they do round some central keep that their 

 architects learned when a succession of northern 

 conquerors swept over the land. 



H 's shikari came to meet us, and told us he 



had the two bullock- carts waiting a little way from 

 the village, at the edge of the plain where we were 

 to shoot. We shouldered our rifles and set off. 

 Round the village well were clustered picturesque 

 groups of girls and women, chattering and drawing 

 water, while perched on the walls and trees were 

 flocks of gorgeous peafowl — sacred, of course. A 

 short walk brought us to the carts, most primitive 

 structures, with bodies shaped to go over the wheels, 

 and filled for the occasion with a little grass for us 

 to sit on. Wishing one another good luck we parted 

 company. 



My cart bumped and rattled along for some time, 

 till at last my servant, who was sitting in front 

 with the driver, leant back and told me he could 

 see two chikara. I told him to drive towards them, 

 and when a couple of hundred yards off, I slipped off 

 the cart and walked on the far side of it. They 

 were evidently a bit shy and twice moved off too 

 soon. At last I told the driver to try and move 

 them towards me, and dropped down among the 

 thorn bushes. These were so low I had to lie flat 



