The Journal of a Sporting Nomad 
front of the train at various times. I now 
borrowed this man’s gun, and seating myself 
on the foot-plate in front of the engine, managed 
to get a shot into a lot of these birds as 
they ran in front of me. Altogether I picked 
up seven, which I shared with the owner of the 
gun. When we arrived at the thirty-mile peg 
(or thirty miles from Fontesvilla) I saw a herd 
of sassaby feeding quite unconcernedly within 
sixty yards of the track, and the driver of the 
train considerately pulled up for me to have a 
shot. I hit a nice bull hard, but it got into a 
large belt of reeds, from whence I was unable to 
dislodge him, this, too, although I had my 
boys out to help me in the search. The train 
had to go on, and I very reluctantly left a 
wounded beast. I hated to think of its dying — 
miserably from my want of skill, for I should 
without doubt have dropped him in his tracks. 
I had one more shot from the train a little 
farther on. This was at a waterbuck bull. The 
shot this time proved more successful, and my 
boys brought the beast to the train, putting it 
bodily into the truck with them. I set Cooe on to 
taking off the head and neck-skin, and on arriv- 
ing at Fontesvilla divided up the meat with the 
various officials of the train and station, who 
were delighted to get it. I put my boys up in 
an old hut, seeing that they were provided with 
the necessary food and blankets. Iwas wise, for 
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