THE ROAN 



single file. When we were certain they had all quite 

 gone, we resumed our painful decsent. 



At length we dropped below the screen of trees, and 

 could stand upright and straighten the kinks out of our 

 backs. But now a new complication arose. The wind, 

 which had been the very basis of our calculations, 

 commenced to chop and veer. Here it blew from 

 one quarter, up there on the side hill from another, 

 and through the bushes in quite another direction 

 still. Then without warning they would all shift 

 about. We watched the tops of the grasses through 

 our binoculars, hoping to read some logic into the 

 condition. It was now four o'clock — our stalk 

 had thus far consumed two hours — and the roan 

 must soon begin to feed. If we were going to do 

 anything, we must do it soon. 



Therefore we crept through a very spiky, noisy 

 jungle to its other edge, sneaked along the edge until 

 we could make out the tree, and raised ourselves for 

 a look. Through the glass I could just make out 

 the roan's face stripe. He was still there! 



Quite encouraged I instantly dropped down and 

 crawled to within range. When again I raised my 

 head the roan had disappeared. One of those 

 aggravating little side puffs of breeze had destroyed 

 our two hours' work. 



The outlook was not particularly encouraging. 

 359 



