Sporting Trips of a Subaltern 



A morning was all I had left me now, and 

 I had got nothing. I was off before sunrise, 

 and soon struck fresh "bush cow" tracks. 

 Bush cow are the West African buffalo, and 

 have seldom been shot. While following these 

 at best pace I saw a wart-hog for a second, 

 and then a hartebeest. Finally, after about 

 three hours, I came on the Mimmi creek further 

 up, and having now lost all signs of my buffalo, 

 and being very beat and rather dispirited, I had a 

 rest. It seemed a hopeless job, crashing through 

 the bush, and it would puzzle any one to get 

 through without crashing ; one drives everything 

 away in front, and what with my want of success 

 and sleepless nights, I began to wonder if Nor- 

 thern Nigeria would, after all, be much of an 

 acquisition to the British Empire. Finally, at 

 eleven o'clock I started for camp to pack up and 

 get back to headquarters. Just at midday I was 

 walking parallel to the creek and about fifty yards 

 from it, wishing myself in Somali, or the Hima- 

 layas, when I heard some heavy animals galloping 

 down the creek ; the latter here made a bend away 

 from me for a bit, and then a sharp bend back, 

 bringing it directly in front of me some way ahead. 

 This was the direction the animals were taking, 

 so that by running straight ahead I hoped to cut 

 them off, of course trusting to luck that they kept 

 to the creek. I ran like a lamp-lighter, but was 



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