102 BLACKBUCK HUNTING 



harnessed. These zebus are very carefully bred 

 and go at a remarkably good trot. 



The primitive two-wheeled cart rattled away 

 over the stones, through deep sand and over 

 treacherous rocks. 



Very soon we spied a little flock of blackbuck 

 on some rising ground. We looked through 

 the glasses and discovered that unfortunately 

 there was not a good head among them. So 

 on we drove. 



At intervals I get down and walk, for the 

 rattling and unexpected bumps of the springless 

 cart make every bone ache. It gives one some 

 idea of the agonies our unfortunate wounded 

 countrymen in South- West Africa must have 

 endured in the ox transports. Think of them ! 

 often in the broiling sun with no water to 

 drink. 



At last the native huntsman spies a good 

 buck. The wagon goes on and I take aim, 

 lying on the ground. The buck receives the 

 charge point blank. The distance was very 

 short and it was an easy shot. When we 

 measured the horns, however, they came near 



