REMINISCENCES 



A WONDERFUL FLUKE 



I once bagged a grand bull by an exceedingly 

 lucky fluke, and the story is so remarkable a one 

 that it is worth relating. I was out in camp in the 

 Metikuppe Forest with my wife. As there was 

 no forest lodge in the vicinity, we were dependent 

 upon tents for our lodging. Upon the day on 

 which we were moving camp, and had a ten-mile 

 march to perform before evening, ' I decided to go 

 out early to try for bison before starting. 



I went out with the Kurrabas, and we tried hard, 

 but could find no fresh tracks. Despairing of bison, 

 I fired a shot at a jungle-sheep (muntjac), which 

 obtruded itself upon us, but missed it. 



After firing this shot, I had even less hope of 

 doing anything with bison than I had before, and 

 simply loitered on through the forest with my men 

 in a somewhat aimless fashion, when all of a sudden, 

 and only about 200 yards from where I had fired, 

 we heard a bison dash off from a dense thicket 

 close by. On finding the tracks, it was evident 

 that the latter were those of a big bull, and though 

 I entertained but a slight prospect of coming up 

 with him again within the short time at my dis- 

 posal, we started in pursuit. 



It was a weary, stern chase, and the odds were 

 against our succeeding ; still, I began to be hopeful, 

 when at last, after galloping a long way, the bull 

 (as we could see from the tracks) subsided into a 

 walk. We had a long way to follow after that, 



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