few, may have fixed habits, and so prove easy hunting.
These difficulties, while in no way
formidable, are real enough
in their small way; but they are
immensely increased when the
herds have been often disturbed. Disturbance need not necessarily
mean shooting. In countries unvisited by white men often the
pastoral natives will so annoy the
buffalo by shoutings and other
means,
whenever they appear near the tame cattle, that the huge
beasts will come practically nocturnal. In that case only the
rankest luck will avail to get a man a chance in the open. The
herds cling to cover until after
sundown and just at dusk; and
they return again very soon after the first streaks of dawn. If
the
hunter just happens to be at the exact spot, he may get a
twilight shot when the glimmering ivory of his front sight is
barely
visible. Otherwise he must go into the
thicket.
As an
illustration of the first condition might be instanced an
afternoon on the Tana. The weather was very hot. We had sent
three lots of men out in different directions, each under the
leadership of one of the gunbearers, to scout, while we took it
easy in the shade of our banda, or grass shelter, on the bank of
the river. About one o'clock a
messenger came into camp reporting
that the men under Mavrouki had traced a herd to its lying-down
place. We took our heavy guns and started.
The way led through thin scrub up the long slope of a hill that
broke on the other side into undulating grass ridges that ended
in a range of hills. These were about four or five miles distant,
and
thinlywooded on sides and lower slopes with what resembled a
small live-oak growth. Among these trees, our guide told us, the
buffalo had first been sighted.
The sun was very hot, and all the animals were still. We saw
impalla in the scrub, and many giraffes and bucks on the plains.
After an hour and a half's walk we entered the parklike groves at
the foot of the hills, and our guide began to proceed more
cautiously. He moved forward a few feet, peered about, retraced
his steps. Suddenly his face broke into a broad grin. Following
his
indication we looked up, and there in a tree almost above us
roosted one of our boys sound asleep! We whistled at him.
Thereupon he awoke, tried to look very alert, and
pointed in the
direction we should go. After an
interval we picked up another
sentinel, and another, and another until, passed on thus from one
to the next, we traced the
movements of the herd. Finally we came
upon Mavrouki and Simba under a bush. From them, in whispers, we
learned that the
buffalo were karibu sana-very near; that they
had fed this far, and were now lying in the long grass just
ahead. Leaving the men, we now continued our forward
movement on
hands and knees, in single file. It was very hot work, for the
sun beat square down on us, and the tall grass kept off every
breath of air. Every few moments we rested, lying on our faces.
Occasionally, when the grass shortened, or the slant of ground
tended to
expose us, we lay quite flat and hitched forward an
inch at a time by the strength of our toes. This was very severe
work indeed, and we were drenched in perspiration. In fact, as I
had been feeling quite ill all day, it became rather doubtful
whether I could stand the pace.
However after a while we managed to drop down into an eroded deep
little
ravine. Here the air was like that of a
furnace, but at
least we could walk
upright for a few rods. This we did, with the
most
extraordinary pre
cautions against even the breaking of a
twig or the rolling of a
pebble. Then we clambered to the top of
the bank, wormed our way forward another fifty feet to the
shelter of a tiny bush, and stretched out to recuperate. We lay
there some time, sheltered from the sun. Then ahead of us
suddenly rumbled a deep
bellow. We were fairly upon the herd!
Cautiously F., who was nearest the centre of the bush, raised
himself
alongside the stem to look. He could see where the beasts
were lying, not fifty yards away, but he could make out nothing
but the fact of great black bodies
taking their ease in the grass
under the shade of trees. So much he reported to us; then rose
again to keep watch.
Thus we waited the rest of the afternoon. The sun dipped at last
toward the west, a faint
irregularbreeze wandered down from the
hills, certain birds awoke and uttered their clear calls, an
unsuspected kongoni stepped from the shade of a tree over the way