Wild Cattle Shooting. 147 



poured with rain for the previous twenty-four hours. 

 Six, seven, eight, and nine o'clock passed. My teeth 

 were chattering with the cold, and yet not a sign of 

 Bos sondaicus. I was so cramped I doubted whether 

 I could lift an arm to take aim if the occasion arose 

 to do so. A lot of thamin or brow antlered deer 

 were grazing about, and I could have had easy shots 

 at several fine stags. The shikaries suffered more 

 than I did, for with the exception of the cloth they 

 wind round their loins and pass between their legs, 

 they were cloth eless, but these people are far more 

 patient than w r e are. " Wait, sir," they said, " the 

 cattle are sure to come. To-day is a cool day, very 

 cloudy, and they have stayed browsing later than 

 usual." I was sick of waiting, but still, after what I 

 had undergone, I determined to endure the ordeal for 

 another hour. Half that time had hardly passed 

 away when we heard the distant low of a cow. 

 Soon several, accompanied by calves, appeared on the 

 scene, but the beasts seemed in no hurry to take 

 their siesta, so fed along leisurely. Two good bulls 

 then approached from separate quarters, each accom- 

 panied by his harem of six or seven wives. It was 

 not the rutting season ; thus they all seemed on friendly 

 terms. About ten o'clock, when the sun began to 

 shine fiercely, several cows went into the tope at 

 the nethermost end, but as there was no wind we were 

 pretty safe from detection. The bulls now fed closer 

 and closer, and at a quarter to eleven w r ere within shot. 

 I killed the nearest. The belted bullet (for I still stuck 

 to my two muzzle-loaders, though I had two other 

 breechloaders) struck it behind the shoulder, passed 

 on and broke the leg of a cow standing near. I also 



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