Before half past three at earliest.
We could not, however, go away to come back later because of the
chance that the buffaloes might take it into their heads to go
travelling. I had been fooled that way before. For this reason,
also, it was necessary, every five minutes or so, to examine
carefully all our boundaries; lest the beasts might be slipping
away through the cover.
The hours passed very slowly. We made lunch last as long as
possible. I had in my pocket a small edition of Hawthorne's "The
House of the Seven Gables," which I read, pausing every few
minutes to raise my glasses for the periodical examination of the
country. The mental focussing back from the pale gray half light
of Hawthorne's New England to the actuality of wild Africa was a
most extraordinary experience.
Through the heat of the day the world lay absolutely silent. At
about half-past three, however, we heard rumblings and low
bellows from the trees a half mile away. I repocketed Hawthorne,
and aroused myself to continuous alertness.
The ensuing two hours passed more slowly than all the rest of the
day, for we were constantly on the lookout. The buffaloes delayed
most singularly, seemingly reluctant to leave their deep cover.
The sun dropped behind the mountains, and their shadow commenced
to climb the opposite range.
