A RUSH TO THE BUSI 



catch sight of the antelope, which is feeding, at a very- 

 long distance. I examine it with my glass. 



Somewhat larger than a sable antelope, but of the 

 same build, its horns, although shorter and thicker, 

 are, like those of the former, ringed and curved back- 

 wards. The front of the head is marked with white, 

 the whole of the coat appears grey mingled with 

 white. My trackers state that it is an old male, and 

 this I believe, for the animal is handsome. 



Not wishing to hazard a rash shot, I make a detour, / 

 and march along the flank of the hillock. At the 

 moment when I reveal myself, to fire at a hundred 

 yards, the wind changes, the animal detects us and 

 flees. I send one bullet too high and a second which 

 touches the animal, for it delivers a kick. I have 

 fired too much behind, and the animal is only wounded 

 in the belly. I notice the fragments of entrails and 

 of the products of digestion left by the fugitive on the 

 branches and trees which it rubbed. 



The animal thus hit is sure to die, but has still long 

 hours to live. Though acquitted by conscience, I 

 follow without again seeing it, until the sun, very low, 

 stops me. I return to camp, with my heart heavy 

 at having lost this fine specimen, which I never saw 

 again. I find my wife already installed, for the last 

 five hours, at the village of Chitote. 



To combat the humidity, at least I suppose so, the 

 inhabitants of that village have treated themselves 

 during the last twenty-four hours to drink without 



(35) 



