We both
plunged into the stream; I, clothes and all, and drank, and
drank, and drank.'
That evening I caught up the cavalcade.
How curious it is to look back upon such experiences from a
different stage of life's journey! How would it have fared
with me had my rifle exploded with the fall? it was knocked
out of my hands at full cock. How if the stock had been
broken? It had been thrown at least ten yards. How if the
horn had entered my thigh instead of the horse's? How if I
had fractured a limb, or had been stunned, or the bull had
charged again while I was creeping up to him? Any one, or
more than one, of these contingencies were more likely to
happen than not. But nothing did happen, save - the best.
Not a thought of the kind ever crossed my mind, either at the
time or afterwards. Yet I was not a thoughtless man, only an
average man. Nine Englishmen out of ten with a love of sport
- as most Englishmen are - would have done, and have felt,
just as I did. I was bruised and still; but so one is after
a run with hounds. I had had many a nastier fall hunting in
Derbyshire. The worst that could happen did not happen; but
the worst never - well, so rarely does. One might shoot
oneself instead of the pigeon, or be caught picking forbidden
fruit.
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