d turned a complete somersault in the air and fell to the ground
stone-dead, to the accompaniment of loud shouts of wonder and admiration
from my Totties.
Needless to say, I was vastly proud of my achievement, for it was far
and away the longest shot that I had ever attempted. But instead of
being satisfied with my success, I must needs attempt something still
more difficult. Flapping down the back sight, and entirely dispensing
with its use, I reloaded the weapon and determined to rely upon my eye
and my judgment alone, or, in other words, upon that faculty which, by
constant use, had become a sort of instinct with me. Accordingly I
selected as a mark another vulture which had been in the act of
descending, but which, apparently alarmed at the unusual manner in which
its predecessor had accomplished the last part of its descent, was now
wheeling slowly round at a height of, as I estimated, fully eight
hundred yards above the earth. Training my rifle upon it, I followed
the movements of the bird until it had wheeled away from me, when,
carefully judging the amount of elevation required, I pressed the
trigger, and was delighted the next moment again to see the feathers
fly, to note the convulsive stroke of the great pinions which indicated
a hit, and to see the ponderous bulk of the bird come hurtling
earthward. It was a magnificent shot--I felt that I was justified in
admitting that much to myself--and it satisfied me that, even now, at
the beginning of my acquaintance with my new rifle, I was as much master
of it as I was of my old one, and could rely upon it as implicitly. I
felt that I had no need to test its capabilities further; but I once
more loaded it and, walking to where the dying ox was lying, with the
circle of vultures closing in around it, put the foul birds to flight,
with many a croak of protest from them at my interference, placed the
muzzle of the weapon at the ear of the ox, pulled the trigger, and put
the poor beast out of its misery, besides saving it from the possibility
of attack by the ravenous birds before the breath had entirely left its
body. Three miles farther on we outspanned for the night.
The return journey--until its last stage--was as uneventful as the
outward one had been. For the first three days we met, on an average,
half a dozen wagons a day, trekking to Port Elizabeth from various farms
in the outlying districts; but after that they became less numerous, and
after the f
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