THE BANTING 93 



hidden. He moved just as I fired the second 

 barrel, and on receiving the bullet wheeled 

 sharp round and charged straight down at me. 

 Having no mind to be hunted with an empty 

 rifle in my hands, I let him come almost within 

 striking distance, and then took a big jump 

 aside. The bull, having missed his point, went 

 thundering on. This was too much for Dot, 

 the terrier, who up to now had been as quiet as 

 a mouse. She rushed out at the bull with a 

 yelp of excitement, but he only shook his head 

 at her and went on. A whistle brought her 

 back to me. She had smelt the tsaing when 

 the jungle fowl got up, hence her suppressed 

 excitement, and I had in my mind accused her 

 of a desire to chase them, a thing she never did. 

 The trackers, having naturally made them- 

 selves scarce when the bull charged, now ap- 

 peared, and we sat down for twenty minutes to 

 let the shots take effect before following him up. 

 While waiting I went to the spot where we had 

 surprised the bull, and there found a comfortable 

 bed of dried leaves on which the old fellow had 

 been resting. I now took one tracker with me 

 and followed the tsaing. There was no blood 

 spoor, but the tracking was easy. When we 

 had gone some 300 yards the tracker pointed 

 him out. He was standing with head down 

 beside a bamboo clump. I tried to fire, but 

 the shot refused to go off, and looking at 



