ORYX ANTELOPE 
39 
antelopes, but that day I sat down and deliberately pulled 
the trigger, to find I had forgotten to cock my rifle. Ready 
at last, I sat down and aimed through a lot of thorn-bushes 
at a place where I expected the shoulder would be. Bang, 
bang ! Off they went as usual, my shikari wringing his 
hands and swearing in Somali. But not so fast ! I was 
certain I had hit with the first barrel. And on following up, 
there sure enouo^h I found the blood-trail. I must have hit 
him high up on the shoulder. The ponies were off at a 
gallop, and soon I heard a shout, but on running up they 
were off again. We followed the pon 3 ^-tracks for upw^ards of 
two miles, and then sat down for a rest, when I heard a shot 
fired very far to our w'est. I sent my head-shikari on after 
the ponies and returned home. 
In the afternoon I went out bird-collecting, and about 
5 p.m. my syce and Jama Mehemet, my guide, galloped 
up singing, so I knew they had got my oryx, A few 
minutes after they entered the camp bearing the skin and 
head of the oryx and the skull of a gerenook they had 
picked up. My syce had been obliged to fire five shots 
from my revolver at the antelope, and when the poor brute 
was done he dismounted and lassoed it with the pony’s 
reins, bringing it to earth. Unfortunately, as very fre- 
quently happens, one of her horns got badly split during 
the scuffle. 
Jama Mehemet, my guide, amused me on his return by 
producing a little coffee-pot which he invariably carried, 
and pouring the contents (water) first upon his feet and 
then down his throat. After this he placed the sacred 
coffee-pot before him and began his devotions, first of all 
standing before it with hands clasped, then kneeling, and 
lastly placing his forehead on the ground before it. I asked 
him througU my interpreter how much he wanted for his 
pony, which could gallop well but was very thin. He 
replied : 
‘ Give me one rifle and fifty rounds of cartridge and take 
the ‘‘ boney.” ’ 
