He Was
The Buck Of The Herd, And Carried A Noble Pair Of Antlers; He Was About
A Hundred And Twenty Yards From Us, And I Took A Quick Shot At Him With
One Of The No.
10 rifles.
The brushwood closed over him as he bounded
into the jungle, but an ominous crack sounded back from the ball, which
made me think he was hit. At this moment Palliser and V. Baker came
running up, thinking that we had found the elephant.
The buck was standing upon some snow-white quartz rocks when I fired,
and upon an examination of the spot frothy patches of blood showed that
he was struck through the lungs. Men are bloodthirsty animals, for
nothing can exceed the pleasure, after making a long shot, of finding
the blood-track on the spot when the animal is gone. We soon tracked him
up, and found him lying dead in the jungle within twenty yards of the
spot. This buck was the first head of game we had bagged, with the
exception of a young elk that I had shot on horseback during the ride
from Dambool. We had plenty of snipe, and, what with fish, wildfowl, and
venison, our breakfast began to assume an inviting character. After
breakfast we shot a few couple of snipe upon the plain, and in the
evening we formed two parties--Palliser and V. Baker, and Wortley and
myself--and taking different directions, we scoured the country,
agreeing to meet at the tent at dusk.
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