188 TRACKING A WOUNDED BULL. 



straight on to us was stopped by the second barrel of 

 the gum tickler with a bullet in the forehead just below 

 the horn, and she fell dead, another tumbling over 

 her, as if she had also been shot ; but quickly recover- 

 ing herself, she was making away to my left, when 

 the right barrel of Rigby 10 ^' hove her to." She 

 stopped, and spun round, not knowing what had hap- 

 pened. The instant she was steady I fired the remain- 

 ing barrel at her neck, close to the head, and she fell 

 dead. Moloka quickly placed the third gun in my 

 hands, but nothing was to be seen save the two 

 dead buffaloes, one in front, about twelve yards from 

 me, and the other on my left, about twenty. 



But what had become of the bull ? I knew I hit 

 him, but from the instant I pulled the trigger I had 

 not seen him, and he had not fallen in sight. The 

 herd had gone, scattering themselves all over the 

 place, and I had no idea which side to look for his 

 tracks. The men from the canoe meantime came run- 

 ning up, and commenced dancing round the fallen 

 game. I made Moloka tell them of the wounded bull, 

 and we all scattered about in search of anything that 

 might lead us to discover which way he had gone. 

 I returned to the spot in which he stood when I fired 

 at him, and tracked him distinctly into the forest, but 

 there was not a sign of blood, and his marks were soon 

 obliterated by the hoof-prints of some dozen others. 

 Just then, however, when the case seemed almost 

 hopeless, I observed a small speck of blood on a dry 

 leaf, and a little further on quantities of it on a tree 

 against which the beast had rubbed as he passed. A 

 soft whistle brought Moloka to my side, and having 



