It was extraordinarily good, quick work, the way he picked
up the long range from the spurts of dust where the bullets hit.
At the third or fourth shots he landed one. Immediately the beast
was off again at a tearing run pursued by a rapid fusillade from
the remaining shots. Then with a violent jerk and a wild yell we
were off again.
This time, since the animal was wounded, he made for rougher
country. And everywhere that wildebeeste went we too were sure to
go. We hit or shaved boulders that ought to have smashed a wheel,
we tore through thick brush regardless. Twice we charged
unhesitatingly over apparent precipices. I do not know the name
of the manufacturer of the buckboard. If I did, I should
certainly recommend it here. Twice more we swerved to our
broadside and cut loose the port batteries. Once more McMillan
hit. Then, on the fourth "run," we gained perceptibly. The beast
was weakening. When he came to a stumbling halt we were not over
a hundred yards from him, and McMillan easily brought him down.
We had chased him four or five miles, and McMillan had fired
nineteen shots, of which two had hit. The rifle practice
throughout had been remarkably good, and a treat to watch.
Personally, besides the fun of attending the show, I got a mighty
good afternoon's exercise.
We loaded the game aboard and jogged slowly back to the house,
for the mules were pretty tired. We found a neighbour, Mr.
Heatley of Kamiti Ranch who had "dropped down" twelve miles to
see us. On account of a theft McMillan now had all the Somalis
assembled for interrogation on the side verandas. The
interrogation did not amount to much, but while it was going on
the Sudanese headman and his askaris were quietly searching the
boys' quarters. After a time they appeared. The suspected men had
concealed nothing, but the searchers brought with them three of
McMillan's shirts which they had found among the effects of
another, and entirely unsuspected, boy named Abadie.
"How is this, Abadie?" demanded McMillan sternly.
Abadie hesitated. Then he evidently reflected that there is
slight use in having a deity unless one makes use of him.
"Bwana," said he with an engaging air of belief and candour, "God
must have put them there!"
That evening we planned a "general day" for the morrow. We took
boys and buckboards and saddle-horses, beaters, shotguns, rifles,
and revolvers, and we sallied forth for a grand and joyous time.
The day from a sporting standpoint was entirely successful, the
bag consisting of two waterbuck, a zebra, a big wart-hog, six
hares, and six grouse. Personally I was a little hazy and
uncertain.
