Marshalling Our Forces, We Started For The Head Of The Valley; Near
Which A Path Ascended To A Range Of High Land, Said To Be A Favourite
Resort Of The Cattle.
Shortly after gaining the heights, a small herd, some way off, was
perceived entering a wood.
We hurried on; and, dividing our party,
went in after them at four different points; each white man followed
by several natives.
I soon found myself in a dense covert; and, after looking round, was
just emerging into a clear space, when I heard a report, and a bullet
knocked the bark from a tree near by. The same instant there was a
trampling and crashing; and five bullocks, nearly abreast, broke into
View across the opening, and plunged right toward the spot where
myself and three of the islanders were standing.
They were small, black, vicious-looking creatures; with short, sharp
horns, red nostrils, and eyes like coals of fire. On they came - their
dark woolly heads hanging down.
By this time my island backers were roosting among the trees. Glancing
round, for an instant, to discover a retreat in case of emergency, I
raised my piece, when a voice cried out, from the wood, "Right
between the 'orns, Paul! right between the 'orns!" Down went my
barrel in range with a small white tuft on the forehead of the
headmost one; and, letting him have it, I darted to one side. As I
turned again, the five bullocks shot by like a blast, making the air
eddy in their wake.
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