THE BANTING 115 



and stood again, staring as hard as ever. Then 

 down went her head, but only to be raised 

 instantly, while she again favoured me with 

 a prolonged scrutiny. The tracker was hidden, 

 as were also the coolies, below the crest, and 

 all she could see of me was my brown Elwood 

 hat. Fortunately she came no closer. At last 

 she moved off with a quick rush, and was hidden 

 by the bamboo clump; but as she moved, the 

 backs — fortunately, only the backs — of two more 

 cows came into view. In a moment I had 

 glided to the bamboo clump, and stood on the 

 far side of it with rifle ready, hoping when the 

 stampede occurred, as it surely would, that 

 the herd would bolt across my front, in the 

 direction taken by the cow in her short rush. 

 I had not long to wait. There was a terrific 

 snort, and off dashed the herd right across my 

 front. There was no mistaking the bull. I had 

 a fleeting vision of a pair of wide-spreading 

 horns and a dried teak-leaf coloured coat as 

 he galloped through the undergrowth. I got 

 my sights on to him, and then threw the rifle 

 forward and pressed the trigger. I did not 

 hear the bullet strike, and in far less time than 

 it takes to tell it, the crashing through the 

 undergrowth died away, and all was silence. 



After waiting for a quarter of an hour in 

 case, by good luck, the bull was wounded, we 

 followed him up, and presently, to my joy, found 



