THE BUFFALO 



rather astonished me. I heard a heavy thump on the 

 ground, followed by more thumps and several deep hollow 

 groans, which caused me and my man to look at each other 

 in amazement, but as that did not help matters I ran up, 

 and beheld to my surprise a huge buffalo in the throes 

 of death, with the " Paradox " bullet-hole right through 

 the body ! I have, moreover, a miserable suspicion that it 

 was a half-tame village buffalo, though I could see no brand 

 marks, for just beyond it I saw another one standing 

 gazing at us in amazement before lumbering away. The 

 slain animal was lying down when I shot it, with portions 

 showing above the grass, hence my mistake. It carried a 

 miserable head, which I did not take. 



I regret, for my reader's sake, I have no adventures or 

 hairbreadth escapes of my own to record in connection 

 with buffaloes. I have not gone in for shooting them 

 much, not being particularly attracted by the sport. 



For the information, however, of advocates of the 

 modern small-bore rifle, the following experiences may 

 be of interest. During a trip in Tamankaduwa with my 

 cousin Roy Storey, not long ago, whilst looking around 

 for game in general, one morning we came upon a small 

 herd of buffaloes in a little " park " remotely situated. 

 After taking a good look at them, my cousin had his 

 shot with a double-barrelled .303 rifle, Holland's "peg" 

 bullets, at the largest of them, which we thought was a 

 bull. At the shot it went lumbering towards the jungle, 

 receiving a salute from my .303 as it went, the rest of the 

 herd scattering in all directions. We followed up, and 

 found the animal lying just inside the edge of the jungle, 

 not more than 150 yards from where it was shot, gasp- 

 ing its life out with both bullets through its lungs. On 

 another occasion I and my friend Fred Brockman, each 



