a fire and to make it quickly.
For the past hour a fine drizzle had been falling; and the whole

country was wet from previous rains. I hastily dragged in all the
dead wood I could find near, collected what ought to be good

kindling, and started in to light a fire. Now, although I am no
Boy Scout, I have lit several fires in my time. But never when I

was at the same time in such a desperate need and hurry; and in
possession of such poor materials. The harder I worked, the worse

things sputtered and smouldered. Probably the relief from the
long tension of the buffalo hunt had something to do with my

general piffling inefficiency. If I had taken time to do a proper
job once instead of a halfway job a dozen times, as I should have

done and usually would have done, I would have had a fire in no
time. I imagine I was somewhat scared. The lioness and her

hulking cub had smelled the buffalo and were prowling around. I
could hear them purring and uttering their hollow grunts.

However, at last the flame held. I fed it sparingly, lit a pipe,
placed the Holland gun next my hand, and resigned myself to

waiting. For two hours this was not so bad. I smoked, and rested
up, and dried out before my little fire. Then my fuel began to

run low. I arose and tore down all the remaining dead limbs
within the circle of my firelight. These were not many, so I

stepped out into the darkness for more. Immediately I was warned
back by a deep growl!

The next hour was not one of such solid comfort. I began to get
parsimonious about my supply of firewood, trying to use it in

such a manner as to keep up an adequate blaze, and at the same
time to make it last until Memba Sasa should return with the men.

I did it, though I got down to charred ends before I was through.
The old lioness hung around within a hundred yards or so below,

and the buffalo herd, returning, filed by above, pausing to stamp
and snort at the fire. Finally, about nine o'clock, I made out

two lanterns bobbing up to me through the trees.
The last incident to be selected from many experiences with

buffaloes took place in quite an unvisited district over the
mountains from the Loieta Plains. For nearly two months we had

ranged far in this lovely upland country of groves and valleys
and wide grass bottoms between hills, hunting for greater kudu.

One day we all set out from camp to sweep the base of a range of
low mountains in search of a good specimen of Newman's

hartebeeste, or anything else especially desirable that might
happen along. The gentle slope from the mountains was of grass

cut by numerous small ravines grown with low brush. This brush
was so scanty as to afford but indifferent cover for anything

larger than one of the small grass antelopes. All the ravines led
down a mile or so to a deeper main watercourse paralleling the

mountains. Some water stood in the pools here; and the cover was
a little more dense, but consisted at best of but a "stringer" no

wider than a city street. Flanking the stringer were scattered
high bushes for a few yards; and then the open country.

Altogether as unlikely a place for the shade-loving buffalo as
could be imagined.

We collected our Newmanii after rather a long hunt; and just at
noon, when the heat of the day began to come on, we wandered down

to the water for lunch. Here we found a good clear pool and
drank. The boys began to make themselves comfortable by the

water's edge; C. went to superintend the disposal of Billy's
mule. Billy had sat down beneath the shade of the most hospitable

of the bushes a hundred feet or so away, and was taking off her
veil and gloves. I was carrying to her the lunch box. When I was

about halfway from where the boys were drinking at the stream's
edge to where she sat, a buffalo bull thrust his head from the

bushes just the other side of her. His head was thrust up and
forward, as he reached after some of the higher tender leaves on

the bushes. So close was he that I could see plainly the drops
glistening on his moist black nose. As for Billy, peacefully

unwinding her long veil, she seemed fairly under the beast.
I had no weapon, and any moment might bring some word or some

noise that would catch the animal's attention. Fortunately, for
the moment, every one, relaxed in the first reaction after the

long morning, was keeping silence. If the buffalo should look
down, he could not fail to see Billy; and if he saw her, he would

indubitably kill her.
As has been explained, snapping the fingers does not seem to

reach the attention of wild animals. Therefore I snapped mine as
vigorously as I knew how. Billy heard, looked toward me, turned

in the direction of my gaze, and slowly sank prone against the
ground. Some of the boys heard me also, and I could see the heads

of all of them popping up in interest from the banks of the
stream. My cautious but very frantic signals to lie low were

understood: the heads dropped back. Mavrouki, a rifle in each
hand, came worming his way toward me through the grass with

incredible quickness and agility. A moment later he thrust the
405 Winchester into my hand.

This weapon, powerful and accurate as it is, the best of the lot
for lions, was altogether too small for the tremendous brute

before me. However, the Holland was in camp; and I was very glad
in the circumstances to get this. The buffalo had browsed slowly

forward into the clear, and was now taking the top off a small
bush, and facing half away from us. It seemed to me quite the

largest buffalo I had ever seen, though I should have been
willing to have acknowledged at that moment that the

circumstances had something to do with the estimate. However,
later we found that the impression was correct. He was verily a

giant of his kind. His height at the shoulder was five feet ten
inches; and his build was even chunkier than the usual solid

robust pattern of buffaloes. For example, his neck, just back of
the horns, was two feet eight inches thick! He weighed not far

from three thousand pounds.
Once the rifle was in my hands I lost the feeling of utter

helplessness, and began to plan the best way out of the
situation. As yet the beast was totallyunconscious of our

presence; but that could not continue long. There were too many
men about. A chance current of air from any one of a half dozen

directions could not fail to give him the scent. Then there would
be livelydoings. It was exceedinglydesirable to deliver the

first careful blow of the engagement while he was unaware. On the
other hand, his present attitude-half away from me-was not

favourable; nor, in my exposed position dared I move to a better
place. There seemed nothing better than to wait; so wait we did.

Mavrouki crouched close at my elbow, showing not the faintest
indication of a desire to be anywhere but there.

The buffalo browsed for a minute or so; then swung slowly
broadside on. So massive and low were the bosses of his horns

that the brain shot was impossible. Therefore I aimed low in the
shoulder. The shock of the bulletactually knocked that great

beast off his feet! My respect for the hitting power of the 405
went up several notches. The only trouble was that he rebounded

like a rubber ball. Without an instant's hesitation I gave him
another in the same place. This brought him to his knees for an

instant; but he was immediately afoot again. Billy had, with
great good sense and courage, continued to lie absolutely flat

within a few yards of the beast, Mavrouki and I had kept low, and
C. and the men were out of sight. The buffalotherefore had seen

none of his antagonists. He charged at a guess, and guessed
wrong. As he went by I fired at his head, and, as we found out

afterward, broke his jaw. A moment later C.'s great elephant gun
roared from somewhere behind me as he fired by a glimpse through

the brush at the charging animal. It was an excellent snapshot,
and landed back of the ribs.