238 SPORT IN THE EASTERN SUDAN 



was so open a wounded buffalo could have been 

 tackled without much risk. On the Kahad I should 

 not have dreamt of taking such a shot. 



May 14th. In the morning I commenced by visiting 

 the pool above camp. There were no tracks of 

 buffalo, and the whole up-stream tract was overrun 

 by cattle, so I turned sharp back and went across to 

 the bend down-stream, where I had shot the cow 

 buffalo. There we very soon found fresh tracks, and 

 following them from 8 to 10 a.m. I came up with what 

 was, I believe, the same herd that I had seen the 

 previous day, for the line taken to the place of lying up 

 for the day was almost identical, though naturally 

 after their fright of the day before they went further 

 afield. After following the herd at a distance of a 

 quarter of a mile for half an hour, I found them lying 

 down for the day, and with the aid of my glasses made 

 out that the best bull was nearest to me and on the left 

 of the herd. Then commenced the usual toilsome 

 approach, first on hands and knees, then crawling 

 like a snake. Since, however, the country was fairly 

 favourable for an approach, owing to the presence 

 of a good amount of dry grass and dead fallen trees, 

 finally I reached a fallen tree within 100 yards of the 

 bull. Although he lay directly facing me, with a rest I 

 thought I ought to be able to score a hit, but, after 

 taking a long and deliberate aim, I missed him clean. 

 Away went the herd up the wind to my right, with 



