once or twice, but the probability was that owing
to the long range it would have resulted only in a wound, and I think
there is nothing so painful as to see an animal limping about in a
crippled condition. In this fruitless manner we covered several miles,
and I was beginning to think that we should have to return to camp
without so much as firing a shot. Just then, however, I saw a herd of
wildebeeste, and with much care managed to get within three hundred
yards of them. I singled out the biggest head and waiting for a
favourable moment, fired at him, dropping him at once. I ran up to the
fallen beast, which appeared to be dying, and told Mahina to drive the
hunting knife right through his heart so as to put him quickly out of
all pain. As Mahina was not doing this as skilfully or as quickly as I
thought it might be done, and seemed unable to pierce the tough hide, I
handed him my rifle and took the knife in order to do it myself. Just
as I raised the knife to strike, I was startled by the wildebeeste
suddenly jumping to his feet. For a moment he stood looking at me in a
dazed and tottery kind of way, and then to my amazement he turned and
made off. At first he moved with such a shaky and uncertain gait that I
felt confident that he could only go a few yards before dropping; so,
as I did not wish to disturb the other game around us by firing a
second shot, I thought it best just to wait. To my utter astonishment,
however, after he had staggered for about sixty yards he seemed to
revive suddenly, broke into his ordinary gallop and quickly rejoined
the herd. From that time I lost all trace of him, though I followed up
for four or five miles.

The wildebeeste, in fact, is like Kipling's Fuzzy-Wuzzy--"'e's
generally shammin' when 'e's dead"; and my friend Rawson about this
time had an experience very similar to mine, but attended with more
serious results. He had knocked his wildebeeste over in much the same
way, and thought it was dead; and as he was very keen on obtaining
photographs of game, he took his stand-camera from the Indian who
carried it and proceeded to focus it on the animal's head. When he was
just about to take the picture, he was thunderstruck to see the
wildebeeste jump up and come charging down upon him. He sprang quickly
aside, and in an instant up went the camera into the air, followed the
next moment by the unfortunate Indian, the wildebeeste having stuck its
horn right through the man's thigh and to