at a large dark-colored bull. The satisfactory sound of the ball upon
his hide was followed almost immediately by his blundering forward for
about twenty yards and falling heavily in the low bush. I heard the
crack of the ball of my left-hand barrel upon another fine beast, but no
effects followed. Bacheet quickly gave me the single two-ounce Manton
rifle, and I singled out a fine dark-colored bull, who fell on his knees
to the shot, but, recovering, hobbled off disabled, apart from the herd,
with a foreleg broken just below the shoulder. Reloading immediately, I
ran up to the spot, where I found my first giraffe lying dead, with the
ball clean through both shoulders. The second was standing about one
hundred paces distant. Upon my approach he attempted to move, but
immediately fell, and was despatched by my eager Arabs. I followed the
herd for about a mile to no purpose, through deep clammy ground and high
grass, and I returned to our game.

These were my first giraffes, and I admired them as they lay before me
with a hunter's pride and satisfaction, but mingled with a feeling of
pity for such beautiful and utterly helpless creatures. The giraffe,
although from sixteen to twenty feet in height, is perfectly
defenceless, and can only trust to the swiftness of its pace and the
extraordinary power of vision, for its means of protection. The eye of
this animal is the most beautiful exaggeration of that of the gazelle,
while the color of the reddish-orange hide, mottled with darker spots,
changes the tints of the skin with the differing rays of light,
according to the muscular movement of the body. No one who has merely
seen the giraffe in a cold climate can form the least idea of its beauty
in its native land.

Life at Sofi was becoming sadly monotonous, and I determined to move my
party across the river to camp on the uninhabited side. The rains had