236 
IN AFRICA 
straightway begins a careful stalk of many hun¬ 
dred yards. At last, after much patient work, he 
reaches a point where he feels that he can chance a 
shot. He takes a careful sight and at that moment 
a kongoni that has been silently watching him from 
some place or other gives the alarm, and away goes 
the trophy beyond reach of a bullet. And then how 
the hunter curses at the kongoni, who has stopped 
some little distance away and is regarding him with 
that quaint, lugubriously funny look. It almost 
seems to be laughing at him. 
One day I tried to shoot a topi. It was a broiling 
hot day and the sun hung dead above and drove its 
burning javelins into me as I crept along. For 
seven hundred yards, on hands and knees, I slowly 
and painfully made my way. The grass wore 
through the knees of my trousers and the sharp 
stubbles cut my palms; once a snake darted out of 
a clump of grass just as my hand was descending 
upon it, and lizards frequently shot away within a 
yard of my nose. My neck was nearly broken from 
looking forward while on my hands and knees, and 
it was nearly an hour of creeping progress that I 
spent while stalking that topi. 
When I got within two hundred and fifty yards, 
and was just ready to take a careful aim, with an 
ant-hill as a rest, a kongoni somewhere gave the 
alarm, and away went the topi, safe and sound but 
badly scared. The kongoni went a little way off 
and then turned and grinned broadly. I was mo¬ 
mentarily tempted to shoot him, but on second 
