GIRAFFE. 
179 
nearing the giraffe, he took me at full speed into the 
middle of a dense hack-thorn tree, which tore me 
to pieces and sent my gun hying over my head back¬ 
wards, and it was all that I could do to keep my seat. 
Bryan swerved and got through, and I soon turned 
him, dismounted, and rode back for my gun, picked 
it up, and kept on at a good round gallop in the direc¬ 
tion I saw my giraffe last, and was not long in catching 
sight of her. I had a very long gallop through thick 
thorns all the way, waiting in vain for an opening 
to put on the steam. I at length pushed Bryan close 
up, bring from the saddle, and giving the giraffe the 
ball in the stern, about three inches too low. The 
blood streamed in a torrent, but she kept on at a 
good pace, I contenting myself with just keeping her 
in sight, and she was going the right road while I re¬ 
loaded. I then galloped alongside, jumped-off a little 
ahead, and as she came broadside past me, shot her 
through the heart, and she fell dead in ten yards. 
I off-saddled and knee-haltered Bryan, and Kaffirs 
and dogs were up in five minutes, Bryan serving me 
a pretty trick by running away to the wagons. Tired 
and half dead from thirst as I was, I had to follow 
him on foot, and then lead him back a good two 
miles for the saddle and bridle; not in the best of 
humours with him, as I was very badly scratched. 
On returning, or rather following the wagon-spoor, 
which was ahead, I met a Kaffir, who told me that 
John had broken his arm, and on reaching the 
wagons found the news, alas ! too true. The account 
