about, before looking for traces of elephants. Not more than half a mile
from camp we came across a trail broad as a cart-road, evidently made by
a great herd of buffaloes which had passed up at dawn from their feeding
ground in the marshes, to spend the day in the cool air of the uplands.
This trail I followed boldly; for such wind as there was blew straight
down the mountain-side, that is, from the direction in which the
buffaloes had gone, to me. About a mile further on the forest began to
be dense, and the nature of the trail showed me that I must be close to
my game. Another two hundred yards and the bush was so thick that, had
it not been for the trail, we could scarcely have passed through it.
As it was, Gobo, who carried my eight-bore rifle (for I had the
.570-express in my hand), and the other two men whom I had taken with
me, showed the very strongest dislike to going any further, pointing
out that there was 'no room to run away.' I told them that they need
not come unless they liked, but that I was certainly going on; and then,
growing ashamed, they came.

"Another fifty yards, and the trail opened into a little glade. I knelt
down and peeped and peered, but no buffalo could I see. Evidently the
herd had broken up here--I knew that from the spoor--and penetrated the
opposite bush in little troops. I crossed the glade, and choosing one
line of spoor, followed it for some sixty yards, when it became clear
to me that I was surrounded by buffaloes; and yet so dense was the
cover that I could not see any. A few yards to my left I could hear one
rubbing its horns against a tree, while from my right came an occasional
low and throaty grunt which told me that I was uncomfortably near an
old bull. I crept on towards him with my heart in my mouth, as gently as
though I were walking upon eggs for a bet, lifting every little bit of
wood in my path, and placing it behind me lest it should crack and warn
the game. After me in single file came my three retainers, and I don't