"Exit Umbezi," I said to myself, and by way of a requiem let the bull

which had hoisted him, as I thought to heaven, have an ounce of lead

in the ribs as it passed me. After that I did not fire any more, for it

occurred to me that it was as well not to further advertise my presence.

In all my hunting experience I cannot remember ever seeing such a sight

as that which followed. Out of the vlei rushed the buffalo by dozens,

every one of them making remarks in its own language as it came. They

jammed in the narrow roadway, they leapt on to each other's backs. They

squealed, they kicked, they bellowed. They charged my friendly rock till

I felt it shake. They knocked over Scowl's mimosa thorn, and would have

shot him out of his eagle's nest had not its flat top fortunately caught

in that of another and less accessible tree. And with them came clouds

of pungent smoke, mixed with bits of burning reed and puffs of hot air.

It was over at last. With the exception of some calves, which had been

trampled to death in the rush, the herd had gone. Now, like the Roman

emperor--I think he was an emperor--I began to wonder what had become of

my legions.

"Umbezi," I shouted, or, rather, sneezed through the smoke, "are you

dead, Umbezi?"

"Yes, yes, Macumazahn," replied a choking and melancholy voice from the

top of the rock, "I am dead, quite dead. That evil spirit of a silwana

[i.e. wild beast] has killed me. Oh! why did I think I was a hunter; why

did I not stop at my kraal and count my cattle?"

"I am sure I don't know, you old lunatic," I answered, as I scrambled up

the rock to bid him good-bye.

It was a rock with a razor top like the ridge of a house, and

there, hanging across this ridge like a pair of nether garments on a

clothes-line, I found the "Eater-up-of-Elephants."

"Where did he get you, Umbezi?" I asked, for I could not see his wounds

because of the smoke.

"Behind, Macumazahn, behind!" he groaned, "for I had turned to fly, but,

alas! too late."

"On the contrary," I replied, "for one so heavy you flew very well; like

a bird, Umbezi, like a bird."

"Look and see what the evil beast has done to me, Macumazahn. It will be

easy, for my moocha has gone."

So I looked, examining Umbezi's ample proportions with care, but could

discover nothing except a large smudge of black mud, as though he had

sat down in a half-dried puddle. Then I guessed the truth. The buffalo's

horns had missed him. He had been struck only with its muddy nose,

which, being almost as broad as that portion of Umbezi with which it

came in contact, had inflicted nothing worse than a bruise. When I was

sure he had received no serious injury, my temper, already sorely tried,

gave out, and I administered to him the soundest smacking--his position

being very convenient--that he had ever received since he was a little

boy.




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