In The Mean Time The Bull Was
Advancing Step By Step With An Expression Of Determined Malice, And My
Cingalese Servant, In An Abject State Of Fright, Was Imploring Me To
Run--Simply As An Excuse For His Own Flight.
`Buffalo's coming, sar!
Master, run plenty, quick!
Buffalo's coming, sar! Master, get big tree!'
I could not turn to silence the fellow, but I caught him a fine backward
kick upon the shins with my heel, which stopped him, and in a few
seconds I was loaded and the four-ounce was in my hand. The bull, at
this time, was not fifteen yards from me; but, just as I was going to
fire, I saw him reel to one side; and in another moment he rolled upon
his back, a dead buffalo, although I had not fired after my first shot.
The ball, having entered his chest, was sticking in the skin of his
haunch, having passed through his lungs. His wonderful pluck had kept
him upon his legs until life was extinct.
I am almost tired of recounting so many instances of the courage of
these beasts. When I look back to those scenes, so many ghosts of
victims rise up before me that, were I to relate one-half their
histories, it would fill a volume. The object in describing these
encounters is to show the style of animal that the buffalo is in his
natural state. I could relate a hundred instances where they have died
like curs, and have afforded no more sport than tame cows; but I merely
enumerate those scenes worth relating that I have witnessed.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 125 of 343
Words from 33078 to 33351
of 91283
