148 DIARY OF A SPORTSMAN NATURALIST 



this instance as I did not know the country and he did, I 

 had perforce to submit. 



We went through some beautiful open forest with glades 

 rilled with tree ferns and smaller bamboos and clumps of 

 flowering plants, such as cannae and others. For a time I 

 enjoyed myself. But the rain which had held off all the 

 morning, then restarted and we had some very heavy 

 showers. These threatened to obliterate the trail and the 

 shikari pushed forward rapidly. We came to the foot of a 

 rise and had got about a third of the way up when Anacondu 

 stopped and pointed to our right front. I looked and at 

 once saw a bison. I could not have said for certain that it 

 was the one I had fired at, for he was some eighty yards off, 

 but he offered a good shoulder shot and I sighted on the 

 shoulder and pulled the trigger. The animal stumbled forward 

 on to his nose, staggered up and lurched off, my second 

 barrel catching him too far back. The shot produced 

 another stampede away to our left where apparently the 

 rest of the bison had been. I turned in time to see them 

 disappearing over the crest. My bull had gone over it, too, 

 and we started off after him. By now I was badly in need 

 of a rest and lunch. But we went off again, expecting to 

 find him down on the other side. But the bamboo jungle 

 was thicker on this side, necessitating a cautious mode of 

 progress. Finger on trigger I went down that slope, expect- 

 ing either a charge or to see a dead bison round each bamboo 

 clump. We got to the foot of the slope, forded a small 

 rain-filled, rushing stream, and turned along its bank ; the 

 heads of the bamboos dropping into the turgid water. 

 Slowly we moved forward, following the tracks, when a 

 dull bellow sounded to our left rear, a crash through the 

 bamboos and the bull thundered down on us. I whipped 

 round, saw a black mass and fired on the instant. The 

 black mass plunged to the ground and rolled over, its legs 

 kicking in the air. I had jumped against a bamboo clump 

 on firing and now rapidly got behind it. I heard a low 

 half -bellow, half -groan, and peering round put another 

 bullet into the shoulder of the bison which had half struggled 

 up. He collapsed and rolled on to his side and lay still. I 

 removed myself to a safer neighbourhood pro tern. The 

 shikari appeared, and after fusillading the body with stones 

 we went up and examined him. My first shot at the 

 point of the shoulder had hit all right, but the bullet 



