THE GAUR 73 



the patch, and as I sank on the ground part of 

 the head of the bison emerged, and there he 

 stood staring hard in my direction, but without, 

 I think, actually seeing me. All that was 

 visible of the beast was the grey forehead and 

 the base of the massive horns. I suppose he 

 stood motionless for quite a minute, while I sat 

 facing him with the rifle at my shoulder, not 

 knowing where on earth to aim. His nostrils 

 were hidden by the fronds of bamboo, or I 

 might easily have put a bullet up his broad 

 nose. It was impossible to tell whether he was 

 chest on to me, or three-quarters with head 

 turned in my direction. My only chance of 

 bagging him would have been to have aimed a 

 couple of feet below his forehead, and to have 

 fired through the leafy screen in the hope that 

 my bullet would strike either the neck, chest 

 or shoulder. That is what I ought to have 

 done, but didn't. What I did, after cogitating 

 for some time, was to draw a bead on the 

 animal's forehead and press the trigger. I 

 heard my bullet strike, and the next moment 

 there was a loud snort as the bull dashed down 

 the hill. I waited for perhaps a quarter of 

 a minute, and then, thinking him gone for 

 ever, sang out to the tracker. To my surprise 

 there was another rush, not more than eighty 

 yards away, and this time the bison departed 

 for good. It was a great disappointment, but 



