122 A Hunting Trip 



velvet from his horns all torn and hanging in 

 shreds from the prongs and partly covering 

 his head. The sun being in the wrong place 

 it was impossible to get a picture; so my at- 

 tention was directed towards the larger of the 

 bulls going through a bog, and I took a snap 

 shot at him when he was on the move, but he 

 apparently paid no attention to the shot, 

 merely looked back as he was going, and soon 

 disappeared in the bush. The shot of course 

 brought poor results. 



The hunt was over; we had killed all 

 the game the law would allow. The guide 

 took a trip back to the temporary camp to 

 pack out a load of meat, while I stayed in 

 headquarters camp skinning the heads and 

 getting them in order for packing. After 

 properly caring for the trophies for shipment, 

 we retired for the night. 



About 5 o'clock in the morning I was 

 awakened by a buzzing noise in the tent, and 

 to my surprise discovered a little wren had got 

 into the tent. It continued to fly backward 

 and forward trying to get out, but unable to 

 find an opening, until, as it was passing, I 



