440 THE GIANT ELAND [ch. xy 
of which I have already spoken and of another tree. 
One of their marked habits—shared in some degree by 
their forest cousin, the bongo—was breaking the higher 
branches with their horns, to get at the leaves ; they 
thus broke branches two or three inches in diameter 
and seven or eight feet from the ground, the crash of 
the branches being a sound for which we continually 
listened as we followed the tracks of a herd. They 
were far more wary than roan, or hartebeest, or any of 
the other buck, and the country was such that it was 
difficult to see more than a couple of hundred yards 
ahead. 
It took me three hard days’ work before I got my 
eland. Each day I left camp before sunrise, and on 
the first two I came back after dark, while it always 
happened that at noon we were on a trail and could not 
stop. We would walk until we found tracks made that 
morning, and then the gun-bearers and the native guide 
would slowly follow them, hour after hour, under the 
burning sun. On the first day we saw nothing ; on the 
next we got a moment’s glimpse of an eland, trotting at 
the usual slashing gait. I had no chance to fire. By 
mid-afternoon on each day it was evident that further 
following of the trail we were on was useless, and we 
plodded campward, tired and thirsty. Gradually the 
merciless glare softened; then the sun sank crimson 
behind a chain of fantastically carved mountains in the 
distance; and the hues of the after-glow were drowned 
in the silver light of the moon, which was nearing the 
full. 
On the third day we found the spoor of a single bull 
by eight o’clock. Hour after hour went by while the 
gun-bearers, even more eager than weary, puzzled out 
the trail. At half-past twelve we knew we were close 
