136 
AFRICAN GAME TRAILS 
The morning after making our camp, we started at dawn 
for the buffalo ground, Kermit and I, Cuninghame and 
Heatley, and the Boer farmer with three big, powerful 
dogs. We walked near the edge of the swamp. The why- 
dah birds were continually bobbing up and down in front 
of us as they rose and fell on their dancing-places, while 
the Kavirondo cranes called mournfully all around. Be¬ 
fore we had gone two miles, buffalo were spied, well ahead, 
feeding close to the papyrus. The line of the papyrus 
which marked the edge of the swamp was not straight, but 
broken by projections and indentations; and by following it 
closely and cutting cautiously across the points, the oppor¬ 
tunity for stalking was good. As there was not a tree of 
any kind anywhere near, we had to rely purely on our 
shooting to prevent damage from the buffalo. Kermit and 
I had our double-barrels, with the Winchesters as spare 
guns, while Cuninghame carried a 577 , and Heatley a 
magazine rifle. 
Cautiously threading our way along the edge of the 
swamp, we got within a hundred and fifty yards of the 
buffalo before we were perceived. There were four bulls, 
grazing close by the edge of the swamp, their black bodies 
glistening in the early sun-rays, their massive horns show¬ 
ing white, and the cow-herons perched on their backs. 
They stared sullenly at us with outstretched heads from 
under their great frontlets of horn. The biggest of the four 
stood a little out from the other three, and at him I fired, 
the bullet telling with a smack on the tough hide and going 
through the lungs. We had been afraid they would at once 
turn into the papyrus, but instead of this they started 
straight across our front directly for the open country. 
