We Wanted A Buffalo; And As Lengeetoto Is
Practically Unknown To White Men, We Thought This A Good Chance
To Get One.
In that I reckoned without the fact that at certain
seasons the Masai bring their cattle in, and at such times annoy
the buffalo all they can.
We started out well enough. I sent Memba Sasa with two men to
locate the herd. About three o'clock a messenger came to camp
after me. We plunged through our own jungle, crossed a low swell,
traversed another jungle, and got in touch with the other two
men. They reported the buffalo had entered the thicket a few
hundred yards below us. Cautiously reconnoitering the ground it
soon became evident that we would be forced more definitely to
locate the herd. To be sure, they had entered the stream jungle
at a known point, but there could be no telling how far they
might continue in the thicket, nor on what side of it they would
emerge at sundown. Therefore we commenced cautiously and slowly
follow the trail.
The going was very thick, naturally, and we could not see very
far ahead. Our object was not now to try for a bull, but merely
to find where the herd was feeding, in order that we might wait
for it to come out. However, we were brought to a stand, in the
middle of a jungle of green leaves, by the cropping sound of a
beast grazing just the other side of a bush. We could not see it,
and we stood stock still in the hope of escaping discovery
ourselves. But an instant later a sudden crash of wood told us we
had been seen. It was near work. The gunbearers crouched close to
me. I held the heavy double gun ready. If the beast had elected
to charge I would have had less than ten yards within which to
stop it. Fortunately it did not do so. But instantly the herd was
afoot and off at full speed. A locomotive amuck in a kindling
pile could have made no more appalling a succession of rending
crashes than did those heavy animals rushing here and there
through the thick woody growth. We could see nothing. Twice the
rush started in our direction, but stopped as suddenly as it had
begun, to be succeeded by absolute stillness when everything,
ourselves included, held its breath to listen. Finally, the first
panic over, the herd started definitely away downstream. We ran
as fast as we could out of the jungle to a commanding position on
the hill. Thence we could determine the course of the herd. It
continued on downstream as far as we could follow the sounds in
the convolutions of the hills. Realizing that it would improbably
recover enough from its alarmed condition to resume its regular
habits that day, we returned to camp.
Next morning Memba Sasa and I were afield before daylight. We
took no other men. In hunting I am a strong disbeliever in the
common habit of trailing along a small army. It is simple enough,
in case the kill is made, to send back for help. No matter how
skilful your men are at stalking, the chances of alarming the
game are greatly increased by numbers; while the possibilities of
misunderstanding the plan of campaign, and so getting into the
wrong place at the wrong time, are infinite. Alone, or with one
gunbearer, a man can slip in and out a herd of formidable animals
with the least chances of danger. Merely going out after camp
meat is of course a different matter.
We did not follow in the direction taken by the herd the night
before, but struck off toward the opposite side of the valley.
For two hours we searched the wooded country at the base of the
cliff mountains, working slowly around the circle, examining
every inlet, ravine and gully. Plenty of other sorts of game we
saw, including elephant tracks not a half hour old; but no
buffalo. About eight o'clock, however, while looking through my
glasses, I caught sight of some tiny chunky black dots crawling
along below the mountains diagonally across the valley, and
somewhat over three miles away. We started in that direction as
fast as we could walk. At the end of an hour we surmounted the
last swell, and stood at the edge of a steep drop. Immediately
below us flowed a good-sized stream through a high jungle over
the tops of which we looked to a triangular gentle slope
overgrown with scattered bushes and high grass. Beyond this again
ran another jungle, angling up hill from the first, to end in a
forest of trees about thirty or forty acres in extent. This
jungle and these trees were backed up against the slope of the
mountain. The buffaloes we had first seen above the grove: they
must now have sought cover among either the trees or the lower
jungle, and it seemed reasonable that the beasts would emerge on
the grass and bush area late in the afternoon. Therefore Memba
Sasa and I selected good comfortable sheltered spots, leaned our
backs against rocks, and resigned ourselves to long patience. It
was now about nine o'clock in the morning, and we could not
expect our game to come out 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.
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