310 TWO hours' tracking. 



he and his tribe '' ran !" — a statement which I don't 

 doubt. I visited Bishop Mackenzie's grave ; Mr. Young 

 had had it made nicely up, and had put a wooden cross 

 over it. All the people here were glad to see me 

 again, and I was given the use of a house in the village 

 on the island. Taking two men from the village, who 

 said they would show me plenty of game on the other 

 side, I started next morning at daylight. When we 

 had gone about two miles down the river we landed 

 on the east bank, having left Chinsoro, with orders to 

 watch my movements, in charge of the boat. I had 

 not gone far when I saw a fine water-buck making 

 his way home after an early breakfast. The wind was 

 favourable, and a stalk of about ten minutes brought 

 me within a hundred and fifty yards of him, as he 

 stood broadside on under a small tree, snuffing the 

 air as if he knew danger was nigh. I saw there was 

 not a moment to be lost, so raising myself from my 

 hands and knees to a kneeling position, I took a steady 

 aim and fired. The buck staggered and bolted off, 

 and I fired the second barrel as he ran away. I had 

 no doubt that the first shot hit him, but was uncer- 

 tain about the last. He soon entered some long reeds 

 and was lost to sight. On taking up the tracks, we 

 found them stained with blood. The men with me 

 knew nothing of tracking, and said he would never 

 be recovered ; but I knew otherwise. After half an 

 hour's tracking, we heard him bolt away through the 

 reeds in front of us, and found the spot where he had 

 been lying covered with blood. This kind of work 

 continued for two hours, when I succeeded in bring- 

 ing him down, running at fifty yards. I then saw that 



