A Buffalo Drive 



into the thick stuff in the wrong direction. We 

 thought all was over and felt correspondingly 

 sick at the thought, as we made quite certain that 

 they would give the alarm and that everything 

 would leave the bush as well. 



However, I lit a cigarette and tried to put the 

 best face on matters, as the mosquitoes had re- 

 doubled their efforts, when suddenly, before the 

 beaters, who were due to arrive at 6.30 a.m., had 

 turned up, there was a scrimmage in a bush thirty 

 yards from me. It seemed as if that bush had 

 gone off its head without any warning, as it 

 began to crash and sway about, where before was 

 perfect peace and quiet. 



Five buffalo charged out towards the reeds in 

 the swamp. Like a fool, I had a shot at the first 

 that appeared, which happened to be a small one, 

 as I thought this was absolutely bound to be the 

 first and last chance we should have that morn- 

 ing. I managed to knock him down, but he 

 went on. At that moment (I had opened my 

 rifle to put in a fresh cartridge) a large bull 

 dashed past my perch ten yards away ; but the 

 beastly rifle jammed. I cursed volubly, and my 

 orderly, who evidently thought I was slanging 

 him, nearly fell off the perch in his agitation, as 

 I was leaning on and over him. However, I 

 got in two shots when the beast was twenty-five 

 and forty yards away, the first smashing his fore- 

 leg, and the second flooring him. 



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