250 - T H E C H A E G E. 



A streak of 'blood on the black hide of the buffalo, and 

 foam from his mouth, tell a tale that he has not run thus 

 far even without being distressed in more ways than one. 

 Now they are near the Bushman's box, who sits like a 

 judge to see them come in. Hi ! hi ! here they come ! 

 there they go ! Bang, bang ! the buffalo stumbles ; he got 

 the second barrel in the ribs. The horse begins to reel 

 in his gallop a little, but, being well held together by his 

 rider, he has at least another mile still in him ; now the 

 hunter rides nearly alongside the bull, and it is neck and 

 neck. What a change ! tables turned ! Truly it is so ; 

 the hunter is the hunted. The buffalo, with head low, is 

 charging; the rider, steering his horse with firm hand, 

 and a watchful eye on the inthumba, suddenly wheels, 

 and, dropping apparently off his horse, steadily aims at 

 his riderless competitor ; two little white puffs of smoke 

 may be seen, and a thousand echoing guns are heard, like 

 a volley, from the surrounding mountains. The buffalo 

 has had enough ; he quietly drops on his knees, lays his 

 head on the ground, doubles his hind-legs under him, and 

 reposes at full length on the plain, to rise no more. The 

 race is run ; the Derby won by the thirteen hands and 

 eleven stone. The prize is valueless as regards money ; the 

 flesh is given to Kaffirs who are sent after it ; the head 

 and horn are too heavy to carry but the tail is the prize. 

 This trophy, years afterwards, may be looked at by some 

 Nimrod of sparrows questions asked about it; and in 

 response to the information that it is the tail of an angry 

 old buffalo that was taken after a long run, and when the 

 owner had been shot whilst charging, this hero may then 





