BUFFALO AND BISON 293 



yards off, looking straight in my direction. It was 

 all done in a moment ; bang went my rifle and I saw 

 for a second four hoofs kicking in the air. There 

 was a tremendous stampede all around me, and I 

 took a quick shot at a vanishing black mass which I 

 saw for a moment. I felt pretty sure the last shot 

 was a miss, but the first I made sure of, as I had 

 seen the bull's heels in the air. But alas, life is made 

 up of disappointments. I ran up to where my beast 

 had fallen ; he was not there ; there was blood and 

 marks of his struggle on the ground, but that was 

 all. His track led right away after the rest of the 

 herd. I followed for about two hours until the 

 jungle became so thick that all chance of a shot even 

 at short range seemed hopeless. The wounded bull 

 was still with the herd, but the blood showed less 

 and less until it ceased, and we gave it up. I had 

 hit the bull in the forehead, at an angle of forty-five ; 

 he would have a headache for some days and nothing 

 more. I went home sadder and wiser. Never shoot 

 at the head of a bull when he is looking at you : in 

 the neck and chest certainly if you can see it. 



Puddoo, my hunter, recommended my shifting 

 camp again the next day, and said he would take me 

 to a place much frequented by solitary bulls, and I 

 would have a much better chance of bringing one to 

 book. 



I struck my tents the next morning, and the day 

 after arrived at my new camp. I found a camp of 

 " Ghonds," inhabitants of this district, who told me 

 that they had seen bison in the neighbourhood quite 



