Horns 



and would have long marked the day with a 

 white corner-stone had not one even more en- 

 livening occurred later on. It was short-lived, 

 however, as the herd, suddenly swerving to their 

 left front as one, went crashing away through, the 

 forest like a tornado. The foremost bison were 

 within 15 to 20 yards as they turned, but not one 

 did we see, owing to the thick cover. Relief was 

 written over the faces of my companions, and I 

 am sure it must have been very legibly imprinted 

 upon mine. So sudden had been the rush that 

 the whole thing could only have lasted a minute, 

 and yet one had lived a life in that short space of 

 time. Whilst the herd were trampling a broad 

 line through the forest, the roar gradually de- 

 creasing to a faint, far-off murmur — like a Calcutta 

 nor'-easter blowing itself out — we held a hurried 

 consultation, the trackers in words, I in forcible 

 pantomime. Anacondu lit a match (he had 

 matches of his own on him, but I noticed he used 

 mine which I had given him to carry along with 

 my tobacco-pouch — a small point, but one so 

 characteristic of the native), and the slight air 

 moving showed how the herd had winded us. 

 They had doubled in their tracks slightly to their 

 left, and were on our left flank as we came up. 



We now took up the trail again, and for a short 

 time silence was not so absolutely essential. 



We had scarcely moved forward when a fine 

 sambhar stag broke from a bamboo clump on out 



141 



