SHOOTING ZEBRA. 341 



The elder took the bridle of my mare, and, followed by 

 the others, we made a short detour; at a signal I dis- 

 mounted, walked fifty yards, and before me, not seventy 

 paces off, were forty or more of the beautiful game 

 feeding. So conscious were they of their security, that 

 not a head was raised from the inviting leaves on which 

 they browsed. 



I felt it was a shame to destroy the harmony of the 

 picture to awake the still, placid scene by the report 

 of the deadly rifle. Sooner than fire, I could have gazed 

 on and on till all the animal life had passed away like 

 a dissolving scene. But my people must have food : to 

 give way to my feelings, and refuse to commit slaughter, 

 would cause them all to desert, and leave me without 

 the power of supplying the necessities of life. 



I singled out a victim; she was a beautiful mare, 

 with hind-quarters so round and strong that she might 

 have been mistaken for a pampered brewer's horse. I 

 wished to save the unfortunate pain, so took most 

 careful aim ; but at the moment I pressed the trigger 

 she moved, and the ball lodged rather too far back. 

 Still, down she fell, and struggled for a long time 

 unsuccessfully to regain her legs. 



In the meantime, all the herd trotted round and 

 round her, gazing with sympathy upon her prostrate 

 condition, and expressing wonder in their eyes at what 

 could be the cause of her disaster. 



I might have shot now, not one, but half a dozen, 

 and my Massaras in a most unequivocal manner protested 

 against my apathy. Still I was not to be moved, on 

 the ground there was meat and enough ; so I would not 

 have taken the life of another, under any circumstances 

 that could be urged. 



