THE ROAN ANTELOPE 105 



What was that ? Simply good Baraka's local rendering 

 of Abu Uruf. Five minutes later, I learned that 

 lesson when, among open scrub ahead, I espied some 

 thirty majestic roan antelope. They, like ourselves, 

 were seeking shade for their midday rest, lazily slouching 

 along in groups of half a dozen or so. 



Presently the group settled in siesta beneath some 

 low mimosas. The intervening space was a bare open 

 glade, grassless, but sparsely studded with low bushes, 

 and even these rapidly thinned out. The long flat crawl 

 under a vertical sun was sufficiently exhausting, the 

 naked soil actually burn- 

 ing one's palms, and ere I 

 reached the very last shel- 

 tering bush, I was utterly 

 " pumped out;." Moreover, 

 I could not distinguish a 

 single good head in all the 

 crowd. The distance was 

 300 yards, which is, of 

 course, within extreme 



long-range shot ; but, right "STROLLED SLEEPILY ACROSS OUR FRONT." 



then, some wood-sprite or 



kindly genius whispered the word to hold my hand, 

 and I obeyed. The thin leafless bush overhead afforded 

 precisely as much shade as the naked frame of an 

 umbrella. 1 had just got out pencil and sketch-book, 

 when Baraka touched my arm and pointed. . . . Oh, 

 what a spectacle! Broad on our right, and no further 

 away than the others, stood four magnificent roan bulls, 

 unrivalled on all the African Continent ! These till that 

 moment we had not seen champions all, and not an 

 inch to choose between them. They were totally uncon- 

 scious of danger, so for half an hour I strove to catch the 

 lines of those imposing figures and their listless, lazy 

 attitudes. 



Then one of the quartette if there were a choice, 



