232 GIRAFFE HUNTING. 



cow with a calf at her heels. The youngster kept 

 its place so close to the parent's hind quarters that 

 it looked wonderfully strange how it could select a 

 footing for each stride, this difficulty was further 

 increased by the dam's heavy tasselled tail switch- 

 ing around, with almost the velocity of the fly-wheel 

 of a steam engine. An observer would also have 

 thought it impossible that the little one could avoid 

 having its eyes knocked out, for this tuft is com- 

 posed of hair as long as salmon gut, and five or six 

 times its thickness ; but no such mishap took place, 

 or possibly ever does, and the calf unflinchingly and 

 perseveringly held its place. I had just resolved 

 to push up alongside the nigh flank of the old one, 

 and give her a bullet at short range, when the breath- 

 ing of my horse told me very distinctly that his 

 course was about run ; nor was it a wonder, con- 

 sidering that my nag had carried me fourteen 

 stone good, including saddle at his best pace nearly 

 a mile and a half over anything but smooth 

 galloping. Gently I felt my mount's flanks with 

 my spurs, but there was no response made to im- 

 prove my position. So, as the game indicated no 

 sign of fatigue, I determined to sacrifice the young- 

 ster, and, taking a steadying pull of the reins with 

 my left hand, with my right I nearly shoved the 

 barrels of my rifle into its ribs, and pulled the 

 trigger. In a moment there ensued to the unfortu- 

 nate a shambling of legs, a lurch forward, followed 

 by an almost immediate downfall. This was so 

 unexpectedly sudden, that my blown horse only 

 saved himself from a fall over the prostrate 

 body by a tremendous exertion. Not so fortu- 

 nate was my driver on the one-eyed nag, and 

 the partially tightened girths to his saddle, for 

 the first went spreadeagle fashion into space, 

 while his quadruped took some minutes to consider 

 whether remaining prostrate on the ground or 



