At any moment they were likely to make
another rush; and if they did so in the direction they were
facing, they would most certainly run over us and trample us
down.
Remembering the dusk I thought it likely that the unexpected
vivid flash of the gun might turn them off before they got
started. Therefore I raised the big double Holland, aimed below
the line of heads, and was just about to pull trigger when my eye
caught the silhouette of a pair of horns whose tips spread out
instead of turning in. This was a bull, and I immediately shifted
the gun in his direction. At the heavy double report, the herd
broke wildly to right and left and thundered away. I confess I
was quite relieved.
A low moaning bellow told us that our bull was down. The last few
days' experience at being out late had taught us wisdom so Memba
Sasa had brought a lantern. By the light of this, we discovered
our bull down, and all but dead. To make sure, I put a Winchester
bullet into his backbone.
We felt ourselves legitimately open to congratulations, for we
had killed this bull from a practically nocturnal herd, in the
face of considerable danger and more than considerable
difficulty. Therefore we shook hands and made appropriate remarks
to each other, lacking anybody to make them for us.
By now it was pitch dark in the thicket, and just about so
outside. We had to do a little planning. I took the Holland gun,
gave Memba Sasa the Winchester, and started him for camp after
help. As he carried off the lantern, it was now up to me to make
a fire and to make it quickly.
For the past hour a fine drizzle had been falling; and the whole
country was wet from previous rains. I hastily dragged in all the
dead wood I could find near, collected what ought to be good
kindling, and started in to light a fire. Now, although I am no
Boy Scout, I have lit several fires in my time. But never when I
was at the same time in such a desperate need and hurry; and in
possession of such poor materials. The harder I worked, the worse
things sputtered and smouldered. Probably the relief from the
long tension of the buffalo hunt had something to do with my
general piffling inefficiency. If I had taken time to do a proper
job once instead of a halfway job a dozen times, as I should have
done and usually would have done, I would have had a fire in no
time. I imagine I was somewhat scared. The lioness and her
hulking cub had smelled the buffalo and were prowling around. I
could hear them purring and uttering their hollow grunts.
However, at last the flame held.
