140 
African Game Trails 
Meams, Heller, and Loring, for such an ex¬ 
pedition as ours, could be found anywhere. 
It was three days later before we were 
again successful with buffalo. On this oc¬ 
casion we started about eight in the morn¬ 
ing, having come to the conclusion that the 
herd was more apt to leave the papyrus late 
than early. Our special object was to get a 
cow. We intended to take advantage of a 
small half-dried water-course, an affluent 
of the Kamiti, which began a mile beyond 
where we had killed our bulls, and for 
three or four miles ran in a course gener¬ 
ally parallel to the swamp, and at a dis¬ 
tance which varied, but averaged perhaps a 
quarter of a mile. When we reached the 
beginning of this water-course, we left our 
horses and walked along it. Like all such 
water-courses, it wound in curves. The 
banks were four or five feet high, the bot¬ 
tom was sometimes dry and sometimes con¬ 
tained reedy pools, while at intervals there 
were clumps of papyrus. Heatley went 
ahead, and just as we had about concluded 
that the buffalo would not come out, he came 
back to tell us that he had seen several, 
and believed that the herd was with them. 
Cuninghame, a veteran hunter and first- 
class shot, than whom there could be no 
better man to have with one when after 
dangerous game, took charge of our further 
movements. We crept up the water-course 
until about opposite the buffalo, which were 
now lying down. Cuninghame peered cau¬ 
tiously at them, saw there were two or three, 
and then led us on all fours toward them. 
There were patches where the grass was 
short, and other places where it was three 
feet high, and after a good deal of cautious 
crawling we had covered half the distance 
toward them, when one of them made us out, 
and several rose from their beds. They were 
still at least two hundred yards off—a long 
range for heavy rifles; but any closer ap¬ 
proach was impossible, and we fired. Both 
the leading bulls were hit, and at the shots 
there rose from the grass not half a dozen 
buffalo, but seventy or eighty, and started 
at a gallop parallel to the swamp and across 
our front. In the rear were a number of 
cows and calves, and I at once singled out a 
cow and fired. She plunged forward at the 
shot and turned toward the swamp, going 
slowly and dead lame, for my bullet had 
struck the shoulder and had gone into the 
cavity of the chest. But at this moment our 
attention was distracted from the wounded 
cow by the conduct of the herd, which, 
headed by the wounded bulls, turned in a 
quarter-circle toward us, and drew up in a 
phalanx facing us with outstretched heads. 
It was not a nice country in which to be 
charged by the herd, and for a moment 
things trembled in the balance. There was 
a perceptible motion of uneasiness among 
some of our followers. “Stand steady! 
Don’t run!” I called out. “And don’t 
shoot!” called out Cuninghame; for to do 
either would invite a charge. A few seconds 
passed, and then the unwounded mass of 
the herd resumed their flight, and after a 
little hesitation the wounded bulls followed. 
We now turned our attention to the wound¬ 
ed cow, which was close to the papyrus. She 
went down to our shots, but the reeds and 
marsh-grass were above our heads when 
we drew close to the swamp. Once again 
Heatley went in with his white horse, as 
close as it was even reasonably safe, with the 
hope either of seeing the cow, or of getting 
her to charge him and so give us a fair 
chance at her. But nothing happened and 
we loosed the two dogs. They took up the 
trail and went some little distance into the 
papyrus, where we heard them give tongue, 
and immediately afterward there came 
the angry grunt of the wounded buffalo. It 
had risen and gone off thirty yards into the 
papyrus, although mortally wounded—the 
frothy blood from the lungs was actually 
coming out of my first bullet-hole. Its anger 
now made it foolish, and it followed the 
dogs to the edge of the papyrus. Here both 
Cuninghame and Heatley caught a glimpse 
of it. Down it went to their shots, and in a 
minute we heard the moaning bellow which 
a wounded buffalo often gives before dy¬ 
ing. Immediately afterward we could hear 
the dogs worrying it, whileit bellowed again. 
It was still living as I came up, and though 
it evidently could not rise, there was a 
chance of its damaging one of the dogs, so I 
finished it off with a shot from the Win¬ 
chester. Heller reached it that afternoon, 
and the skin and meat were brought in by 
the porters before nightfall. 
Cuninghame remained with the body 
while the rest of us rode off and killed sev¬ 
eral different animals we wanted. In the 
afternoon I returned, having a vaguely un¬ 
comfortable feeling that as it grew dusk the 
buffalo might possibly make their appear- 
