In all my
African experience I lost only six animals hit by bullets, as I took
infinite pains and any amount of time to hunt down wounded beasts. This
animal was, I think, "creased" by too high a shot. Certainly he was not
much injured; but certainly he got a big shock to start with.
The little herd had gone on. I got down and crawled on hands and knees
in the thick grass. It was slow work, and I had to travel by landmarks.
When I finally reckoned I had about reached the proper place, I stood up
suddenly, my rifle at ready. So dense was the cover and so still the air
that I had actually crawled right into the middle of the band! While we
were cutting up the meat the sun broke through strongly.
Therefore the wagon started on up the Mau at six o'clock. Twelve hours
later we followed. The fine drizzle had set in again. We were very glad
the wagon had taken advantage of the brief dry time.
From the top of the sheer rise we looked back for the last time over the
wonderful panorama of the Rift Valley. Before us were wide rounded hills
covered with a scattered small growth that in general appearance
resembled scrub oak. It sloped away gently until it was lost in mists.
Later, when these cleared, we saw distant blue mountains across a
tremendous shallow basin. We were nearly on a level with the summit of
Suswa itself, nor did we again drop much below that altitude. After
five or six miles we overtook the wagon outspanned.
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