I Heard Every Shot Hit, And After Each Hit
Was More Than A Little Astonished To See The Zebra Still On His
Feet, And Still Able To Wobble On.* The Fifth Shot Emptied The
Rifle.
As I had no more cartridges for this arm, I approached to
within sixty yards, and stopped to wait either for him to fall,
or for a very distant Memba Sasa to come up with more cartridges.
Then the zebra waked up.
He put his ears back and came straight
in my direction. This rush I took for a blind death flurry, and
so dodged off to one side, thinking that he would of course go by
me. Not at all! He swung around on the circle too, and made after
me. I could see that his ears were back, eyes blazing, and his
teeth snapping with rage. It was a malicious charge, and, as
such, with due deliberation, I offer it to sportsman's annals. As
I had no more cartridges I ran away as fast as I could go.
Although I made rather better time than ever I had attained to
before, it was evident that the zebra would catch me; and as the
brute could paw, bite, and kick, I did not much care for the
situation. Just as he had nearly reached me, and as I was trying
to figure on what kind of a fight I could put up with a clubbed
rifle barrel, he fell dead. To be killed by a lion is at least a
dignified death; but to be mauled by a zebra!
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