The
margin always so narrow, however, that our hopes were alive.
On the fourth day, which must be our last in Longeetoto, we found
that the herd had shifted to fresh cover three miles along the
base of the mountains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but
about half-past three we sallied forth dutifully and took
position on a hill overlooking the new hiding place. This
consisted of a wide grove of forest trees varied by occasional
open glades and many dense thickets. So eager were we to win what
had by now developed into a contest that I refused to shoot a
lioness with a three-quarters-grown cub that appeared within easy
shot from some reeds below us.
Time passed as usual until nearly sunset. Then through an opening
into one of the small glades we caught sight of the herd
travelling slowly but steadily from right to left. The glimpse
was only momentary, but it was sufficient to indicate the
direction from which we might expect them to emerge. Therefore we
ran at top speed down from our own hill, tore through the jungle
at its foot, and hastily, but with more caution, mounted the
opposite slope through the scattered groves and high grass. We
could hear occasionally indications of the buffaloes' slow
advance, and we wanted to gain a good ambuscade above them before
they emerged. We found it in the shape of a small conical hillock
perched on the side hill itself, and covered with long grass. It
commanded open vistas through the scattered trees in all
directions. And the thicket itself ended not fifty yards away. No
buffalo could possibly come out without our seeing him; and we
had a good half hour of clear daylight before us. It really
seemed that luck had changed at last.
We settled ourselves, unlimbered for action, and got our breath.
The buffaloes came nearer and nearer. At length, through a tiny
opening a hundred yards away, we could catch momentary glimpses
of their great black bodies. I thrust forward the safety catch
and waited. Finally a half dozen of the huge beasts were feeding
not six feet inside the circle of brush, and only thirty-odd
yards from where we lay.
And they came no farther! I never passed a more heart-breaking
half hour of suspense than that in which little by little the
daylight and our hopes faded, while those confounded buffaloes
moved slowly out to the very edge of the thicket, turned, and
moved as slowly back again. At times they came actually into
view. We could see their sleek black bodies rolling lazily into
sight and back again, like seals on the surface of water, but
never could we make out more than that. I could have had a dozen
good shots, but I could not even guess what I would be shooting
at. And the daylight drained away and the minutes ticked by!
Finally, as I could see no end to this performance save that to
which we had been so sickeningly accustomed in the last four
days, I motioned to Memba Sasa, and together we glided like
shadows into the thicket.
There it was already dusk. We sneaked breathlessly through the
small openings, desperately in a hurry, almost painfully on the
alert. In the dark shadow sixty yards ahead stood a half dozen
monstrous bodies all facing our way. They suspected the presence
of something unusual, but in the darkness and the stillness they
could neither identify it nor locate it exactly. I dropped on one
knee and snatched my prism glasses to my eyes. The magnification
enabled me to see partially into the shadows. Every one of the
group carried the sharply inturned points to the horns: they were
all cows!
An instant after I had made out this fact, they stampeded across
our face. The whole band thundered and crashed away.
Desperately we sprang after them, our guns atrail, our bodies
stooped low to keep down in the shadow of the earth. And
suddenly, without the slightest warning we plumped around a bush
square on top of the entire herd. It had stopped and was staring
back in our direction. I could see nothing but the wild toss of a
hundred pair of horns silhouetted against such of the irregular
saffron afterglow as had not been blocked off by the twigs and
branches of the thicket. All below was indistinguishable
blackness.
They stood in a long compact semicircular line thirty yards away,
quite still, evidently staring intently into the dusk to find out
what had alarmed them. 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.
