172 GUN, RIFLE, AND HOUND. 



far away. The firing continued, and, as the bullets 

 showed an inclination to enfilade the long line of 

 carts, I slipped on a pair of boots, and catching up a 

 rifle, hurried on. 



Before I had gone a quarter of a mile I saw Will 

 sitting on a tree-trunk. 



" Here, I say," I hailed him, " what have you 

 been up to ? It's a wonder you haven't bagged a 

 bullock or a coolie." 



For all answer he pointed to some long grass 

 about thirty yards from him. Cocking my rifle I 

 walked towards it, only in my turn to be put to flight 

 by the most horrible stench I have ever smelt. 



It proceeded from a bull-buffalo, who had advanced 

 towards Will with vicious intent, but fortunately the 

 Express with a solid bullet broke his shoulder. Will, 

 however, found it very difficult to dispatch him with 

 this weapon, and no doubt several of the bullets that 

 had come our way had passed through the beast. At 

 last he fell, and not till then did his conqueror discover 

 a large open wound on his flank, full of maggots, the 

 smell of which put him to flight effectually. Although 

 emaciated to a skeleton, he had a particularly fine 

 head, and Sin 'Appu was left to remove it. Two 

 hours later we halted till dark, the trackers going to 

 look for game. 



The jungle we were entering did not at all respond 

 to the popular idea of tropical forests, for it consisted 

 of dense thorn-covert mostly about five feet high, only 

 to be penetrated by the well- worn game paths. 

 Further on we reached very different scenery the 



