HUNTING WITH THE KARENS 109 



ning before I could get my rifle ; yet I dared not let 

 Wan do the cutting for, good man as lie proved, 

 I was afraid of a slip ; so afraid. I could not talk 

 to him, could not impress upon him the importance 

 of quiet ; but I think my attitude and my gestures 

 made him think that something very serious was 

 about to happen. 



Foot by foot I got a little nearer. Then there 

 came a noise as though the buffalo had started, and 

 my heart sank to my boots; yet, listening, it 

 appeared he had not moved farther away. Then 

 again we began our slow, painfully slow approach, 

 all the time dreading that the buffalo might move 

 off, even if we did not scare him away, because our 

 catlike approach was consuming time. I prayed 

 for an open piece of jungle, but it remained as 

 dense as at first. Almost crawling on my stomach 

 so as to minimize the cutting and to give me a 

 better opportunity of seeing in front, I worked 

 ahead, hearkening for every sound, and reassured 

 by the noise, such as cattle make, when resting, of 

 feet stamping and tail switching. 



Finally I thought I could catch sight of the tail 

 as it switched, not over ten yards away. I worked 

 a little way farther and then reached back and 

 took my rifle from Wan, determined now to squirm 

 ahead, if it was humanly possible to do so without 

 cutting; keeping my rifle at a ready. But it was 



