Horns 



iag down in miniature watercourses at every 

 step. 



With a groan of disgust I heard the shikaris say 

 it was no good. Three hours over the most 

 abominable ground on as hot a trail as the keenest 

 could wish for, and all for nothing ! 



' How far to the tents ? ' I briefly asked. 

 ' Three miles,' was the reply. I was surprised, as 

 I had not thought the trail headed so straight for 

 home. However, being still green and young, I 

 took the information at its face-value, and we 

 started off. Needless to say, I had travelled over 

 a good eight miles before I reached the tents, 

 Bishu keeping diplomatically in the rear as the 

 three miles lengthened into four, five, six, and 

 seven ! 



I reached camp fairly dead beat at 6 p.m., 

 having been out over thirteen hours. 



I had two other days out that July — both un- 

 successful, owing to the incessant heavy rain, and 

 then had to return to the station. It was not till 

 the following hot weather that I was destined to 

 see my first bull bison in his native wilds. 



HOW I SAW MY FIRST BULL BISON 



It was early in March that work took me into 

 the bison country again, and one morning, Bishu, 

 the tracker, self, and the usual two followers, left 

 the camp, which was being struck to march that 



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