Horns 



was in shadowland, in that land in which, locked 

 in the arms of Morpheus, one rehopes one's 

 hopes and refights one's battles o'er again. 



MY TUSSLE WITH THE BULL BISON 



It was in April, 19, at B , in the Central 



Provinces, that I had as near a thing with a bull 

 bison as most men would care for. I was shifting 

 camp that day, and in the grey dawn, saying good- 

 bye to W - as he lay on his cot in the verandah 

 (he had had some hard days, and was having a 



morning in), I set off en route to B . I 



had decided overnight with my shikari to make 



a detour on the way, as B was situated 



outside the forest, and therefore had no shooting 

 possibilities (save, I believe, bear), and the road 

 thereto could by a little detour be made to take 

 one through some fine country, and I wanted a 

 good sambhar or chitul stag. 



K , the bungalow I was leaving, was 

 situated in the midst of a very fine sal forest, 

 interspersed with considerable areas of a park- 

 like grass country which serpentined about 

 amongst the blocks of forest. It would perhaps 

 be difficult to find a finer or more sporting country 

 than the B - Valley. It was alive with game ! 

 Great herds of barasingha and chitul roamed 

 over the grass of the park-like areas, or rested in 

 the deep shade of the beautiful sal forest at this 

 season a dream of vivid colour, clothed in its young, 



