THE MAN HUNTERS 



Dismissing the carriers who were standing round the 

 camp fire I sent them to bed and quickly turned in my- 

 self, while the tired boy curled himself up under the flap 

 of my tent and was soon asleep. 



Next morning we were away long before dawn. Our 

 route took us through the little camp where the boy had 

 lived. His mother came out to meet us, and standing in 

 the morning moonlight with hands outstretched she 

 called upon the God of the Forest to give skill to the 

 hunters. 



We first went to the scene of the tragedy and carefully 

 noted the footmarks of the buffalo and from there set 

 out along a well beaten game trail leading towards the 

 drinking place — a water hole in the forest — which was 

 frequented by the herd. Here my guide was confident 

 that he would find the spoor of the buffalo. Carefully he 

 walked round the water hole, every now and again stoop- 

 ing close to the ground to make a more thorough inspec- 

 tion of some hoof mark. Soon he measured with his closed 

 hand the width of an exceptionally large impression 

 made in the damp sand by the buffalo. I had been leaning 

 against a tree close by, watching his investigations with 

 interest, but for the moment taking no actual part in 

 them. I could see now that he had found what he was 

 looking for, and from this stage onwards there was no 

 hesitation. At once he gave me the direction and in a few 

 seconds we were following hard on the track of the 

 savage beast which, not many minutes before, had been 

 drinking at this very hole. 



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