BUFFALO HUNTING 
101 
kept a sharp look-out for any stray bulls that might stay behind 
the troop, and was followed by the other two boys, Chiki, who 
carried the four-ounce gun, and Pikinini, the water - carrier, 
all of us going at a good run. Soon we came upon the tail 
of the troop, and, making a spurt with the four-bore, I dropped 
a cow at about sixty yards. Leaving her with a broken back, 
we increased our speed; and after about a mile, with a good 
spurt on, I espied across an open glade the tips of three buffalo 
bulls’horns, glistening in the sun above a thicket where they 
were apparently waiting for us. Immediately signalling the 
boys, who had observed nothing, I stood out, expecting a charge. 
To my right was a clump of small straight trees about nine 
inches thick, and in front the open glade, forty yards across, 
with nothing but a few ant-heaps scattered about—poor shelter 
in case of necessity. As I expected, these were bulls who, tired of 
being hurried along, had remained behind the troop to try con¬ 
clusions with their assailants, a buffalo custom well known to 
hunters, although previously I never had known of more than 
one buffalo taking up the offensive at a time. While waiting, 
one—a magnificent bull—stepped out towards me, pawing the 
earth, and digging his horns into the sand in true bovine 
fashion preparatory to charging. Pirouetting about, he exposed 
his shoulder, giving me an opportunity, although so fearfully 
winded as to make the shot unsteady, to drive a Martini-Henry 
bullet through his lungs,, reserving the four-ouncer in case of 
a charge. The bullet went clean through and hit one of the 
other buffalo in the chest, causing him to sheer off some twenty 
yards to the right, where he remained looking at us with the 
stupid appearance peculiar to this class of animal, while the 
third buffalo cleared off altogether. Again the first buffalo, still 
dancing about and grunting viciously, gave me a chance to put 
two more Martini-Henry bullets through his lungs, causing him 
to wince at each shot, when he, apparently having had enough of 
it, turned and disappeared into the thicket. No. 2 had been 
slowly making up his mind meanwhile to come; for with tail 
distended and nose in the air, he literally pointed at us with his 
