Guns and
cameras were loaded.
"Don't fire till I get some pictures - unless he charges," were the
orders. And then we raced after the great creature grazing from
us.
We had no idea whether he would run away or charge, but knew that
our plan was to remain unseen as long as possible. So, hiding behind
rocks when he looked around, and dashing forward when he grazed,
we came unseen within two hundred yards, and had a good look at
the huge woolly ox. He looked very much like an ordinary Buffalo,
the same in colour, size, and action. I never was more astray in
my preconcept of any animal, for I had expected to see something
like a large brown sheep.
My, first film was fired. Then, for some unknown reason, that
Musk-ox took it into his head to travel fast away from us, not
even stopping to graze; he would soon have been over a rocky ridge.
I nodded to Preble. His rifle rang; the bull wheeled sharp about
with an angry snort and came toward us. His head was up, his eye
blazing, and he looked like a South African Buffalo and a Prairie
Bison combined, and seemed to get bigger at every moment. We were
safely hidden behind rocks, some fifty yards from him now, when I
got my second snap.
Realising the occasion, and knowing my men, I said:
