HARD LUCK. 265 



nothing more thought I must have been deceived, and 

 pressed on, On reaching the top of a small hillock I 

 got a view all round. Alas ! some hundreds of yards 

 behind, right out on the plain, I saw the herd galloping 

 away, the rear being brought up by the big bull. This 

 was the first time I had seen them. My horse was far 

 away, and had he not been the chase was hopeless. 

 They had got a tremendous start and the ground was 

 a mass of rocks and nullahs. There was nothing to 

 be done but to knock off and go home. I had walked 

 over twenty miles, and my beaters were a good deal 

 more tired than I. I promised myself, however, that I 

 would see the big bull again. 



A long interval occurred before I could keep my 

 word. I got a spell of leave of absence and was off to 

 the hills. At the beginning of November, however, I 

 was back again, and sent the shikari out to ascertain 

 if the herd was still in the neighbourhood. He 

 brought back the news that it was. It happened that 

 just then a young fellow was staying with me who had 

 only arrived a few days before from England, or 



rather from Scotland, his name being Mac . He 



was very anxious to have a chance at the big game. 

 So I sent the shikari back, promising to meet him at 

 the old trysting-place. 



Mac had, of course, a rifle, a brand new 



Express -450. I told him he wouldn't find it the 

 slightest use, and lent him one of my pair of 1 2-bores. 

 Next morning we drove out to the ground in a hired 

 tonga, our breakfast following in my bullock-cart, for 



