22 TALES OF A NOMAD. 



swaying and shaking as the buffalo made furious rushes 

 at Sancho, but I could not make out her form. 



Sancho was a tactician. His mode of dealing with a 

 buffalo was to irritate it by barking, and when it charged, 

 he would dodge round it and bite it in the hocks as it 

 rushed past ; the buffalo would spin round and charge 

 him again, on which the performance was repeated. 



At last I saw Sancho's form flitting about in the 

 underwood, and the next moment I got a glimpse of 

 the buffalo as it pursued him. I fired instantly. 



The buffalo halted and wheeling round in my direc- 

 tion raised her head threateningly, and gazed fixedly at 

 me. 



Now a buffalo facing you with its head upraised is a 

 most difficult shot. Very little of the forehead is 

 exposed. If you fire a trifle high you risk the chance 

 of your bullet glancing off its horns. Under such cir- 

 cumstances, it is wiser to give the chest shot ; but in this 

 case it was impossible, for her chest was covered by a 

 dense mass of underbush and thorns. The temptation 

 was too great. I levelled again, and tried to shoot her 

 through the brain, but failed to do it. The instant I 

 fired she gave a wrathful grunt and came at me, crashing 

 through the bush as though it were mere grass. 



Sancho did his best at her heels to divert her attention, 

 but having seen me she was not to be denied. 



C was forty yards behind me, and I was in a 



dead line between him and the buffalo, so that he could 

 not fire without danger of killing me. It was a ticklish 

 situation. I at once realised that if I stood behind the 

 tree, it would be no protection to me, for the buffalo 

 would be brought up dead by the tree and would then 

 in a moment rush round it and gore me. 



