We
repeated to each other aloud the results of our scrutiny, always
without removing the glasses from our eyes.
"Oryx, one," said F.; "oryx, two."
"Giraffe," reported B., "and a herd of impalla."
I saw another giraffe, and another oryx, then two rhinoceroses.
The three bearers squatted on their heels behind us, their fierce
eyes staring straight ahead, seeing with the naked eye what we
were finding with six-power glasses.
We turned to descend the hill. In the very centre of the deep
shade of a clump of trees, I saw the gleam of a waterbuck's
horns. While I was telling of this, the beast stepped from his
concealment, trotted a short distance upstream and turned to
climb a little ridge parallel to that by which we were
descending. About halfway up he stopped, staring in our
direction, his head erect, the slight ruff under his neck
standing forward. He was a good four hundred yards away. B., who
wanted him, decided the shot too chancy. He and F. slipped
backward until they had gained the cover of the little ridge,
then hastened down the bed of the ravine. Their purpose was to
follow the course already taken by the waterbuck until they
should have sneaked within better range. In the meantime I and
the gunbearers sat down in full view of the buck. This was to
keep his attention distracted.
