STALKING ARROLA 



them, without being able to bring a single one to 

 bag. I was thoroughly ashamed of myself, but on 

 returning to camp and trying the rifle at a target, I 

 found that I could not get anywhere near it. Then 

 it dawned upon me that I must have struck a bad 

 box of cartridges, and so it proved, for, on opening 

 a new box, I immediately found the bull's eye. 



Of course when I went out in the afternoon I saw 

 nothing, and returned in disgust after a trying and 

 disappointing day. The following morning I was 

 on the warpath at dawn. I made my way on foot 

 to where I had seen the arrola the day before. I 

 carried my double-barrelled '450, while my gun- 

 bearer followed behind with my '318 magazine rifle 

 and a new batch of cartridges. I crept through the 

 scattered bush extraordinarily cautiously, and soon 

 I was rewarded by catching sight of a white rump 

 patch disappearing in the long grass some way in 

 front. With redoubled caution now I crept forward 

 by myself, leaving the other man behind, and soon 

 saw a beautiful buck arrola feeding slowly away from 

 me. Then, risking everything to get close and be 

 sure of my shot, I made a long detour ; doubling 

 back, and crawling on hands and knees through the 

 grass right across his path, I reached the shelter of 

 a bush, and there, concealed in the shadow, awaited 

 his approach. This manoeuvre was entirely successful. 

 He was quite unaware of any threatening danger and 

 was feeding slowly in a direction that would bring 

 him within 20 yards of me. It was a beautiful sight 

 to watch him, moving slowly through the bush, now 

 and then looking up, his great lyre-shaped horns 

 showing clearly against the blue sky. He gradually 

 sheered a little farther from me, but as he drew level 



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