I moved forward as quickly as I could, half
suffocated in the steaming heat of the dense thicket. After three or
four hundred yards the beast fell into a walk, so I immediately halted.
I reasoned that after a few steps at this gait he would look back to see
whether or not he was followed. If his scouting showed him nothing he
might throw off suspicion. After ten minutes I crept forward again. The
spoor showed my surmises to be correct, for I came to where the animal
had turned, behind a small bush, and had stood for a few minutes. Taking
up the tracks from this point, I was delighted to find that the kudu had
forgotten its fear, and was browsing. At the end of five minutes more of
very careful work, I was fortunate enough to see it, feeding from the
top of a small bush thirty-five yards away. The raking shot from the
Springfield dropped it in its tracks.
It proved to be a doe, a great prize of course, but not to be compared
with the male. We skinned her carefully, and moved on, delighted to have
the species.
Our luck was not over, however. At the end of six hours we picked our
camp in a pretty grove by the swift-running stream. There we sat down
to await the safari. The tree-tops were full of both the brown and blue
monkeys, baboons barked at us from a distance, the air was musical with
many sweet birds. Big thunder-clouds were gathering around the horizon.
The safari came in.
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