Inside Of A Half Mile I Was
Driving Before Me Literally Thousands Of Head Of Game Of Several
Varieties.
The dust rose in a choking cloud that fairly obscured
the landscape, and the drumming of the hooves was like the
stampeding of cattle.
It was a wonderful sight.
On the plains of Juja, also, I had my one real African Adventure,
when, as in the Sunday Supplements, I Stared Death in the
Face-also everlasting disgrace and much derision. We were just
returning to the farm after an afternoon's walk, and as we
approached I began to look around for much needed meat. A herd of
zebra stood in sight; so leaving Memba Sasa I began to stalk
them. My usual weapon for this sort of thing was the Springfield,
for which I carried extra cartridges in my belt. On this
occasion, however, I traded with Memba Sasa for the 405, simply
for the purpose of trying it out. At a few paces over three
hundred yards I landed on the zebra, but did not knock him down.
Then I set out to follow. It was a long job and took me far, for
again and again he joined other zebra, when, of course, I could
not tell one from t'other. My only expedient was to frighten the
lot. There upon the uninjured ones would distance the one that
was hurt. The latter kept his eye on me. Whenever I managed to
get within reasonable distance, I put up the rear sight of the
405, and let drive.
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