d early
in the afternoon to try to get a blue wildebeeste or two, for I
had seen the spoor of these creatures in a patch of soft ground,
or failing them some other buck. Accordingly, leaving the wagon
by a charming stream that wound and gurgled over a bed of
granite, we mounted our salted horses, which were part of
Anscombe's outfit, and set forth rejoicing. Riding through the
scattered thorns and following the spoor where I could, within
half an hour we came to a little glade. There, not fifty yards
away, I caught sight of a single blue wildebeeste bull standing in the
shadow of the trees on the further side of the glade, and pointed
out the ugly beast, for it is the most grotesque of all the
antelopes, to Anscombe.

"Off you get," I whispered. "It's a lovely shot, you can't miss
it."

"Oh, can't I!" replied Anscombe. "Do you shoot."

I refused, so he dismounted, giving me his horse to hold, and
kneeling down solemnly and slowly covered the bull. Bang went
his rifle, and I saw a bough about a yard above the wildebeeste
fall on to its back. Off it went like lightning, whereon
Anscombe let drive with the left barrel of the Express, almost at
hazard as it seemed to me, and by some chance hit it above the
near fore-knee, breaking its leg.

"That was a good shot," he cried, jumping on to his horse.

"Excellent," I answered. "But what are you going to do?"

"Catch it. It is cruel to leave a wounded animal," and off he
started.

Of course I had to follow, but the ensuing ride remains among the
more painful of my hunting memories. We tore through thorn trees
that scratched my face and damaged my clothes; we struck a patch
of antbear holes, into one of which my horse fell so that my
stomach bumped against its head; we slithered down granite
koppies, and this was the worst of it, at the end of each
chapter, so to speak, always caught sight of that accursed bull
which I fondly hoped would have vanished into space. At length
after half an hour or so of this game we reached a stretch of
open, rolling ground, and there not fifty yards ahead of us was
the animal still going like a hare, though how it could do so on
three legs I am sure I do not know. We coursed it like
greyhounds, till at last Anscombe, whose horse was the faster,
came alongside of the exhausted creature, whereon it turned
suddenly and charged.

Anscombe held out his rifle in his right hand and pulled the
trigger, which, as he had forgotten