22 
ON SAFARI 
dark, and with horns of a span which, in the gloom of the 
forest and waning light, almost suggested buffalo. To 
this I transferred my attention; but the first shot, at 
about 300 yards, missed, and it looked any odds on a 
total loss when the unknown beast disappeared, gallop¬ 
ing among the timber. We followed fast, and luckily 
“gazing in the wrong direction” (waterbuck). 
picked up view as he left the woods, and, changing his 
course, came cantering back across an open prairie 
towards our rear. Then, by fortunate chance, he spied 
my brother, who, with the “ boys,” had remained 
behind. The game pulled up sharp, his magnificent car¬ 
riage and contour recalling a colossal red stag in Land¬ 
seer s bravest type. The intervening plain was dotted 
with isolated forest-trees, each springing from a bushy 
