ORYX 



rose, delicately outlined against the blue of the sky. 

 A herd of Grant's gazelle, a couple of oryx beisa and 

 a solitary Grevy's zebra were feeding peacefully at 

 the edge of the reeds, while egrets in astonishing 

 numbers were resting on the thorn trees or flying 

 over the swamp, their white feathers flashing in the 

 sun. The abrupt cessation of the bush, which had 

 become so detestably familiar to me, and the narrow 

 strip of bare and arid plain, in striking contrast to the 

 tropical fertility of the swamp, combined to form a 

 scene that was strange, even dramatic, in its contrast. 



I decided to camp half-way between the bush and 

 the reed bed in the open plain, and I set the porters 

 who were with me to build a zariba, while waiting for 

 the camels to arrive. In the meantime I made my 

 way towards where the oryx were feeding, as it was 

 very necessary to obtain some meat for myself and 

 my men. 



Stalking them was a difficult and slow proceeding, 

 for there was no cover ; I wanted to be sure of my 

 shot so as not to frighten unduly other game that 

 might be in the vicinity. I soon discovered that there 

 were three oryx, for I had not seen one that was 

 lying down close to the others. When I was still 

 300 yards away they began to move around, 

 obviously uneasy, though they had not made me out. 

 I lay quite motionless stretched on the ground ; in 

 another five minutes they had begun to graze again. 

 In this way I gradually got closer, and finally I took 

 a shot at just under 200 yards at the largest of 

 the three as he was facing me. From the sound of 

 the bullet I thought I had made a good shot ; he fell 

 like a log, then got up, ran forward for about a couple 

 of hundred yards and lay down again. One of the 



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