72 BIG-GAME SHOOTING IN UPPER BURMA 



A solitary bison when disturbed, so long 

 as he has not winded the sportsman, almost 

 invariably pulls up after going a hundred yards 

 or so, and stops to listen, often for quite an 

 appreciable time. If he hears footsteps clatter- 

 ing after him, of course he will be off ; but if 

 you rush after him as he bolts, any noise you 

 may make is drowned in the crashing of the 

 undergrowth as the bull gallops through it. 

 When he pulls up, the sportsman stops likewise, 

 and very often gets a chance of a shot. I lost 

 the first bison I ever saw — a fine old solitary 

 bull — partly owing to my tracker; but also in 

 part owing to my ignorance of this habit. 

 We had struck quite fresh tracks a little after 

 7 a.m., and came up with the beast in thick 

 bamboo cover in about an hour's time. He 

 was making a tremendous row, grunting away 

 in happy unconsciousness of our proximity. 

 I did not then know the average Burman as 

 well as I do now, and foolishly took the man 

 with me until we got to within twenty yards 

 or so of the patch in which the bull was feeding. 

 I then dropped the tracker behind a tree and 

 telling him not to move, crept on to get the 

 shot. I had not gone ten yards before I heard 

 a pattering of feet behind me, and, looking 

 round, saw to my dismay the wretched Burman 

 legging it down the hill for all he was worth. 

 At the same moment there was a crash inside 



