348 WILD BEASTS AND THEIR WAYS CHAP. 



All these interesting varieties of the species antelope exhibit 

 peculiar characteristics ; some partake the appearance and action 

 of the goat, others of the buffalo ; there is an affinity to the horse 

 in the hippotragus, and to the Bos in the eland (Boselapkus orais). 

 To the traveller, the antelope is invaluable, as it provides flesh 

 more or loss palatable for his party, at the same time that the 

 skins of all varieties are useful, and can be readily tanned by the 

 omnipresent mimosa bark, and the pods of the soont (Acacia, 

 Arabica). The fawns of antelopes must be destroyed in great 

 numbers by the numerous carnivora, as they are completely help- 

 less ; they are also the prey of pythons, which seldom attack large 

 animals, but subsist upon the calves, as their bones are easily 

 crushed in the coils, and prepared for swallowing. 



Some species will defend their young ; among these the te'tel 

 (A. bubalis) is remarkable. I once witnessed a striking example, 

 where.the entire herd came to the rescue of a calf. I was shooting 

 with only one attendant, a native named Shooli, who was a most 

 trustworthy man and a devoted follower. This man was an 

 experienced hunter and a first-rate tracker. The country was 

 covered with high grass, that was not sufficiently dry to burn 

 thoroughly, but in some places the natives had ignited it, and 

 cleared small patches, in which the young grass had quickly 

 sprouted to the height of several inches. These open places were 

 an attraction to the game, which was otherwise invisible in the 

 vast mass of tall vegetation. 



We were prowling cautiously through the country, keeping 

 watchful eyes upon our surroundings, when, upon passing a clump 

 of trees, we observed a fine bull te'tel standing sentry upon an ant 

 hill about 400 yards distant. 



There was no doubt that a herd was somewhere in his neigh- 

 bourhood, therefore we waited behind some trees, and watched the 

 attitude of the sentry. 



Presently we espied a doe, which emerged from the high grass 

 and walked carefully but inquiringly across the small open space, 

 and then stood in a fixed position. We now crept upon hands 

 and knees through the rustling herbage, as quietly as possible, in 

 the hope of getting within 150 yards of the sentry. I had marked 

 a particular tree as the spot to be reached which would afford 

 concealment, and at the same time be within killing distance. 



It was trying work for the bare hands among the sharp stems 

 of the coarse grass, but we reached our destination, and then 

 cautiously rose, in expectation of seeing the sentry upon his elevated 

 post. He was gone, together with the doe. We had been quite 



