THE AFRICAN BUFFALO
BY F. J. JACKSON
The African buffalo (_B. caffa_), known to the natives as ‘Mboga’
or ‘Nyati,’ is, I consider, on account of its enormous strength and
vitality, combined with great pluck and natural cunning, the most
dangerous beast in East Africa, and I believe this opinion is shared
by the majority of men who have hunted it to any extent. As it rarely
happens that a beast of any kind charges without provocation, excepting
the rhinoceros, to which I shall come later on, I use the word
‘dangerous’ as applied to a beast after it has been wounded. Compared
with an elephant, a buffalo is of course inferior both in size and
strength; as compared with a lion, in activity only. When wounded all
these three beasts will endeavour to get into thick covert to hide
themselves. This is greatly in their favour when they are being tracked
by the sportsman, more particularly so in the case of a buffalo or a
lion. All ‘dangerous’ beasts, such as elephants, buffaloes, lions,
rhinoceroses, &c., are more likely to charge when taken unawares and at
close quarters, and under these circumstances a charge by a buffalo is
not only the most dangerous of all, but more probable for the following
reasons. Thick bush 5½ ft. high (whether in large belts or small
patches and clumps) will hide a buffalo when it is standing up, even if
only a few feet away from the sportsman, and should it be lying down,
thick covert only 3 ft. to 3 ft. 6 in. high will conceal it quite as
effectually.
With an elephant, which would never lie down, the bush or long grass
must be exceptionally high and thick to render it invisible at 15 to 20
yards distance. A lion would of course be more difficult to see than
either. A buffalo, whether it is standing up or lying down, will never
give the sportsman the slightest indication of its proximity, and to
detect it he has to trust almost entirely to his own or gun-bearer’s
eyesight, unless perhaps the beast’s lungs are badly injured by the
shot, when it may breathe heavily enough to be heard at some little
distance. The same may be said of an elephant, but there is a greater
chance of seeing it on account of its enormous size. A lion, on the
other hand, will very often, if not always, warn the sportsman of its
presence by a low growl when at a distance of some 15 to 20 yards.
A buffalo has a better chance of seeing the sportsman than the
sportsman has of seeing it, as bush is usually thinner a foot or two
from the ground than higher up, and a buffalo, standing with his head
much lower than a man’s, can therefore see under it. A sportsman will
generally see an elephant first, and can dodge and creep about in the
bush, which, if only 5 feet high or even less, will enable him to keep
out of sight. A lion has a still better chance than either, as his head
is much nearer to the ground, whether the beast is standing or lying
down, and he has both a better chance of seeing and of hearing the
sportsman’s approach.
A buffalo, if it sees or hears the sportsman approaching at a distance,
is as likely to stop to fight it out as to bolt away. The same with
an elephant. A lion will generally give a low growl and slink off.
Therefore a sportsman, taking it all round, is more likely to come
unexpectedly to very close quarters with a buffalo than with a lion or
an elephant.
In the event of a charge by one of these three beasts, covert that
would stop a lion would stop neither a buffalo nor an elephant.
A buffalo may not at all improbably be within a few feet before a shot
can be fired, owing to the sportsman’s inability to see it sooner. The
chances are against this with an elephant. A lion is not likely to
wait until the sportsman is quite close up, but will come on, if it
comes on at all, from a greater distance, and the greater distance a
beast comes from the better chance the sportsman has of pulling himself
together and taking a steady shot.
[Illustration: Bull buffalo]
When hit, the difficulties of killing, stopping, or even turning a
buffalo are greater than with an elephant or lion. A buffalo holds its
head up, with its forehead almost horizontal, too high to enable one
to get a shot at the brain, and there is a great chance of the bullet
ricochetting off the horns. A shot at the chest when at close quarters
is almost an impossibility, as the beast is so very low on its legs.
In the open this is the best shot to take, as by kneeling down the
sportsman is more on a level with the animal, and the head is not so
much in the way. An elephant also holds its head up, and the chances
of a shot at the head proving fatal as the beast charges are so remote
as to be almost infinitesimal. An elephant’s head, however, is a large
mark, and a bullet striking it in the centre of the base of the trunk,
if it does not penetrate to the brain, will knock it down, or at all
events turn it. The chest is a better mark in the open, but when in
thick covert cannot often be taken advantage of. Even if this shot
should not be fatal, it would nine times out of ten stop or turn the
beast. A lion being a much smaller beast than either, and being more
active, is naturally more difficult to hit, but when hit is more easily
disabled, and not so tenacious of life.
Should a buffalo charge and miss the sportsman, it will hunt him as
a terrier does a rabbit, and will rarely leave him as long as it can
see or smell him. An elephant has poorer eyesight than a buffalo, and
there is a better chance of escaping observation in covert after being
missed, as an elephant, being less active, cannot turn so quickly and
would overrun itself. It will, however, also hunt him and beat about
the covert to try and catch sight of him or scent him. A lion would be
less easy to dodge than either, but, as it is possessed of less pluck,
would be more easily cowed and less likely to renew the attack.
Buffaloes were at one time exceedingly plentiful throughout British
East Africa, and in some districts, where the country was best suited
to their habits, were to be found in enormous herds. Towards the end
of the year 1890, and in the early part of 1891, they unfortunately
contracted a kind of anthrax, the same disease which carried off
nearly all the native cattle, and they were almost destroyed by it.
On my way down from Uganda in July 1890, between Lakes Baringo and
Naivasha, I saw in one day’s march as many as six herds of buffaloes,
varying in number from 100 to 600 head in a herd. In this same district
in the following March, my friend Mr. Gedge, on his way down to the
coast, saw nothing but carcases, and in one day counted as many as
fifteen lying rotting in the grass, close to the footpath. In 1892
the officers of the Mombasa and Victoria Nyanza Railway Survey only
saw on two different occasions the spoor of a single beast, although
they traversed a great part of the country where buffaloes were
once so plentiful. Amongst other places where this grand beast was
particularly abundant was the Arusha-wa-Chini district, now in German
territory, to the south of Kilimanjaro, and the Njiri plains to the
north of the mountain; Turkwel, in the Suk country to the east of Mount
Elgon; the extensive undulating plains on the top of the Mau and Elgeyo
escarpments; Lykepia, to the west of Mount Kenia; the banks of the
river Tana, and the thick bush country on the mainland near Lamu. There
can be little doubt that it will take many years for them to recover
to any extent, if they ever do so. A sportsman intending to visit this
country must therefore not be disappointed at being unable to add one
of these beasts to his bag, though of course he may have the luck to
meet with an odd one here and there. It is to be hoped, however, that
everyone who goes out to shoot will endeavour to give them a fair
chance of increasing by scrupulously refraining from shooting at any
cow that may be met with. Buffaloes feed out in the open during the
night and early morning, and retire to the bush or other covert where
they lie up during the heat of the day. In places where they were
unlikely to be disturbed I have seen them lying out in the open in the
middle of the day, although there was plenty of thick bush within a
mile or less. This may be accounted for, partly by the fact that these
particular countries were uninhabited, and therefore undisturbed, but
more probably by a desire on the part of the buffaloes to escape from
the incessant torments of the various species of noxious horse-flies.
Old bulls, whether solitary or when in parties of two or three, as
is so often the case, have the reputation of being more savage and
dangerous to approach than when in a herd, but I am quite sure that
this is not so. An old solitary bull when wounded is no more dangerous
than a wounded one that has been picked out of a herd, which will
then nearly always turn out and go off by itself. Solitary bulls are
much more easily approached than others, as the cows in a herd, more
especially if they have calves with them, are very watchful, and when
feeding are often scattered about in all directions. But whether in
herds or solitary, the sportsman must never forget that he is dealing
with a most formidable beast, and should always endeavour to get up to
it close enough to insure his putting a bullet as near as possible to
the spot aimed at, in order to kill or render it helpless at once. The
greatest caution should be exercised in the approach, and the stalker
should endeavour to keep out of sight not only before but _after_
taking a shot, as a beast is far less likely to charge if it is quite
ignorant of the stalker’s whereabouts before it is fired at and wounded
than when aware of his presence beforehand, and though perhaps unable
quite to decide what he is, is given his exact whereabouts by the
dense cloud of smoke. Personally I have never been charged at close
quarters by buffaloes, although I have had many encounters with them
quite exciting enough to assure me that a wounded buffalo is a beast
that is not to be trifled with. I owe this immunity primarily to the
fact of my having used very heavy rifles--a single 4-bore for the first
shot, with a double 8-bore in reserve, and I have generally succeeded
in getting within 80 yards, far more often indeed within 50 yards of
them before firing. Then again, when a beast has been wounded, I have
always endeavoured to keep it in sight, in order to save myself from
being taken at a disadvantage, and also to avoid the loss of time spent
in following up the blood-spoor. Whenever a beast has got into thick
covert where it was quite impossible to watch its movements, I have
nearly always waited a short time before taking up the spoor to give it
time to lie down, become stiff, and partly forget its fear and trouble.
But perhaps I owe my safety principally to my having had the good luck
always to see the beast before or at the same time that it saw me, when
I have at once saluted it with a 4-bore or 8-bore bullet, which has
knocked out of it, whatever inclination it may have had to charge.
In buffalo shooting it is perhaps more important to be up early and
on the feeding grounds by daylight than in any other kind of big game
shooting, as it can be taken as a general rule that buffaloes, after
feeding in the open plains and glades during the night and early
morning, enter and lie up in bush or other thick covert during the day.
In the first place, when they are in the open they are easier to see,
a herd of buffaloes, or even a single one, being a very conspicuous
object at a long distance. In the very early morning they are generally
to be found, when in a herd, moving along in a fairly compact body
(nearly always led by a cow), and not wasting much time in feeding on
their way from their drinking-place, but heading in the direction of
the covert they intend to lie up in during the day; or they may be
found on the outskirts of the bush, still feeding, before turning in
for the day. This is the best time to come across them, as the stalker,
when he finds them pretty close together, has a good opportunity of
examining them and marking the best bulls. When found feeding in the
open close to the bush, or in open bush, they are, with an ordinary
amount of care and trouble, easy enough to stalk. It is, however, very
often aggravating work to follow on the outskirts of a herd, waiting
for a favourable opportunity to crawl on to get a shot at the best
bull, but unable to do so from the fact that several cows are feeding
between the stalker and the bull. Should they, however, be quite out
on the open, and unapproachable, the only thing to be done is to wait
patiently inside the cover of the bush they are likely to make for to
lie up in, keeping as near to them as possible as they move along, and
attempt to cut them off as they enter the bush. I have tried sending
men round to move them, but only once succeeded in cutting them off
after a long run, and found it much better to wait patiently, as they
will generally give the stalker a fair idea of the place at which they
will enter the bush. A large herd of buffaloes filing slowly past at a
steady walk, within a range of 30 or 40 yards of you, is a grand sight,
and it is decidedly exciting, after waiting for the bull you have
marked, to take your shot and listen to the tremendous commotion and
crashing of the bush which follows it as the herd stampedes.
Shooting buffaloes in thick bush, when the only means of finding
them is by tracking, is not only intensely exciting works but most
dangerous, and as a rule most unsatisfactory. It is exciting because
in thick covert the stalker must make up his mind that there will
be little chance of his seeing a beast until he is pretty close up
to it, and if he is at all ‘jumpy,’ as he steals carefully along,
avoiding sticks and dry crackling leaves and loose stones, or brushing
up against the bush, he has ample time to think about and realise
the dangers he is possibly running. Most men will agree that the
deep guttural grunts of buffaloes, as they stand and lie about,
which can be heard at long distances in the stillness of the bush,
are not calculated to soothe the nerves of even the coolest and most
experienced, while doubtless a good many have felt their hearts
thumping against their ribs to an extent which is not conducive to
good shooting. Again, as the herd is probably scattered about, there
is a possibility that some of them may be on either side of the tracks
you are following, and there is also some uncertainty as to whether in
their first stampede on detecting danger some of the buffaloes which
have neither seen nor smelt you may not be coming towards you instead
of rushing away from you. This kind of sport is dangerous, as the
chances are for the most part in favour of the buffalo, should it turn
vicious. The stalker may not see it until at close quarters, when it
has probably already seen or heard him, and a beast which has become
aware of the enemy is far more likely to charge on being fired at and
wounded (unless of course it is disabled) than it would be if it was
altogether unaware of his presence. As it is quite impossible to tell
where beasts may or may not be when the herd is scattered, there is the
possibility that some of them are on either side of the tracks which
the stalker is following, and should one of these be a bad-tempered old
bull, or a cow with a calf, he or she might, on being taken by surprise
at close quarters, charge in self-defence from a quarter from which
the stalker least expects attack. As I have said before, the charge of
an infuriated buffalo is very difficult to stop, owing to the position
in which it carries its head, and if the stalker fails to stop or turn
it, and has to bolt, he may be so hampered in his movements by the
bush, a single creeper, like so much packthread to a buffalo and yet
quite strong enough to hold the stalker fast or trip him up, that he
may be unable to get out of the way. Following buffaloes into bush
sufficiently open to enable the stalker to see and get a shot at them
at a range of 30 or 40 yards is not attended with nearly so much danger
as following them into dense bush, where, owing to the dark shadows,
it is almost impossible to distinguish a beast from its surroundings.
Although the spoor of a beast may be seen leading directly up to a
bush, which looks a likely spot for a buffalo to lie down in, the
stalker may not be able to discover whether the beast is there or not,
and if it is there, he may be quite sure that the buffalo, as it is
standing or lying down in the shade, has a far better chance of seeing
him, as he stands more or less in the open, than he has of seeing it.
As the chances are so much against the stalker seeing the beast until
he gets within a few yards of it; as the difficulties of stopping it
should it charge are so great; and as, if it misses him in the first
charge, it will hunt him, I repeat, as a terrier does a rabbit, it
remains for the sportsman, however keen he may be, to consider whether
these risks are worth running, even on the chance of being rewarded
by an exceptionally fine trophy. In any case he should not attempt to
follow up a buffalo unless he is properly armed with a heavy rifle.
Again, such sport is unsatisfactory, because in thick covert the wind
is very changeable, and is apt to chop round when least expected. Such
a change in the wind, even though quite imperceptible to the stalker,
is quite enough to reveal his presence to the buffaloes, and away they
will crash without giving him a chance, just at the critical moment
when he is close up and expecting to see one of them at any moment. As
a buffalo is a very difficult beast to see when standing or lying in
the dark shade, the stalker has in most cases to fire as soon as he
sees it, and even though he kills it, it may as often as not turn out
that the beast is only a cow or a young bull, with a head not worth
keeping as a trophy.
I think there can be little doubt that very old bulls, which are almost
invariably solitary, become nearly if not quite deaf, and it is partly
owing to this infirmity that many accidents have happened to unarmed
natives, and occasionally to caravan porters prowling in the bush in
search of firewood, &c. The buffalo, being deaf, is not aware of the
approach of an enemy, and when he perceives one close to him is so
startled that he charges in self-defence, his onslaught being so quick
and furious that the man (equally taken by surprise) is unable to get
out of the way. In support of this theory as to deafness I remember
when in Turkwel, in the Suk country, on December 14, 1889, the camp
had been pitched at least two hours, and some 400 porters had been
roaming about collecting firewood and water, shouting and yelling, as
their custom is, when a man came into camp to say that a buffalo was
lying under a tree within 200 yards of us. The man’s story appeared so
improbable, although he pointed out the exact tree, which I could see
as I sat in my tent, that I did not credit it in spite of his earnest
protestations of ‘Queli, bwana, queli’ (True, master, true), so I
sent my head gun-bearer to verify it. In a few minutes he returned
and reported that a bull buffalo was certainly there apparently lying
asleep at the foot of an ant-heap under the tree. I immediately went
out, and walked straight up to the ant-heap, on the top of which there
was a large leafless bush, and on crawling up the side of the heap I
saw the buffalo within five yards of me. Just at that moment he turned
his head, and, seeing me, stood up, had a look at me, and turned to
bolt, but before he had got many yards I knocked him over all in a heap
with an 8-bore bullet which raked him from stern to stem. On another
occasion, in the Kidong Valley (July 30, 1890), when camp was being
pitched with its attendant turmoil, a porter came in to say that a
buffalo was lying asleep close at hand. Accompanied by Dr. Mackinnon,
medical officer to the expedition, I went out, and we were led by the
man direct to the beast, which was lying evidently asleep under a small
bush, and so close to camp that we could distinctly hear the orders
being given to the men. We were within 20 yards of him before we could
see him, and at first thought that he was dead, he lay so still, and I
could detect no movement of his side even with the aid of binoculars;
but a bullet from an 8-bore brought him to his feet with a plunge, and
two more killed him. Both these beasts were very old, judging from the
smoothness of the frontlet or palm of their horns, the usual ruggedness
being quite worn away.
[Illustration: Blissful ignorance]
Buffaloes, like rhinoceroses, are very often attended by birds
(_Buphaga erythrorhyncha_), when they are much more difficult to
stalk than at other times. Besides the rhinoceros bird, buffaloes,
particularly when in herds, are often attended by a flock of little
egrets (_Herodias garzetta_), which, like the former, are attracted
by the great numbers of ticks on these animals. They do not, however,
render the stalking more difficult, as they do not warn the game of the
stalker’s presence like the rhinoceros bird, but are rather a source of
danger to the herd than otherwise, more particularly in bush country,
their habit of rising and circling round in the air before again
settling being often a means of indicating the position of a herd,
which would otherwise have been passed unnoticed; whilst, should they
rise on detecting the sportsman, the buffaloes are so used to these
sudden and short flights that the occurrence causes them little or no
alarm.
When single, or in twos and threes, buffaloes are quite as easy to
approach as a rhinoceros.
To kill a buffalo the shoulder shot is the best. This should be rather
low down, if anything, below the central lateral line on the body, as
the enormously thick neck and the high dorsal ridge are rather apt
to deceive the sportsman as to the actual depth of the beast’s body,
more especially when standing in grass or low bush, so that the legs
and lower outline of the body cannot be discerned. Should a beast be
standing behind a thick tree or bush, so as to present only its head
and neck, a shot in the neck, rather far back to avoid the backward
curve of the horns, and about half-way down, would be almost instantly
fatal; but this shot should not be attempted if the beast, although
standing broadside on, has its head facing the sportsman, as the near
horn will probably be in the way. This reminds me of a curious shot
which I once made at a buffalo standing in this position behind a small
thorn-tree, which, when I came to measure it, I found to be 11 ins. in
circumference, and which just covered the best spot for a shot at the
shoulder. On getting up to a small bush within seventy yards of it, I
decided to take the neck shot; but just as I was getting into position
to fire the beast saw me. Fearing it would bolt on discovering me,
I took a quick aim at the shoulder, rather than risk the neck shot,
knowing that if the bullet did not hit the tree it would be pretty
sure to go somewhere near the lungs. Directly the smoke cleared, my
gun-bearer told me that he had seen the tree fall, and on going up to
it I found the bullet, an 8-bore, had caught it exactly in the centre
and so shattered it that the heavy table-top had caused it to break
off where the bullet entered. Whilst measuring it I heard a deep groan
in the direction the buffalo had taken, and on taking up the spoor
found my beast quite dead, lying in the grass about 150 yards off, shot
through the shoulder. On cutting it open I found the bullet had gone
through both lungs, and was sticking in the ribs on the other side. A
shot at the head, even with an 8-bore, with hardened bullet and twelve
drachms of powder, would in most cases have little effect on a buffalo,
unless, of course, the beast should be sufficiently near to enable the
sportsman to make sure of putting his bullet just under the frontlet
of the horns into the brain; but I think that most men who have shot
buffaloes would say that such a range would be far too near to be
pleasant. As the chances that a head shot at a buffalo will prove fatal
are so very small, this shot should be avoided altogether except in the
case of a charge, where it may be the only one offered.
[Illustration: ‘Often attended by birds’]
Although I have killed a good many buffaloes, and under all sorts of
conditions, I have only once had recourse to the head shot. This was
in the district lying between Kahe and Taveta, where I was shooting
in February 1887. The country was here fairly open, with numerous
patches of bush dotted about, and a few small isolated rocky hills,
appropriately called by one writer ‘earth boils.’ On climbing up one
of these to get a better view of the surrounding country, I spied an
old bull buffalo about a mile off, quietly feeding close to a patch of
bush, which was about 150 yards long and about 50 yards wide, and, as
the wind was favourable, I felt pretty sure of getting him without much
difficulty. On arriving at the bush, I found a small low ant-heap just
opposite the place where I had last seen the buffalo, and I stepped
on to it to try and see exactly where he was on the other side of
the bush, but could see nothing of him. As I stood on the ant-heap
consulting with my gun-bearer in a low whisper, I heard the well-known
hissing cry of a rhinoceros bird, and saw it fly up out of the bush
on the farther side of it, a little to the left of me. The buffalo,
though disturbed by the warning cry of the bird, was evidently not
much alarmed, as he began to move across my front at a slow walk, and
I could follow his movements by the shaking of the bush as he passed
through it, but could not see him. When he was just about opposite to
where I stood, he changed his course and came straight towards me,
still at a slow walk, and when he arrived within a few yards of the
edge immediately opposite to me, I slipped out of sight behind the
ant-heap and waited for him to appear. He came to the very edge of the
bush, stopped for about half a minute, and I then began to fear that
he had either seen me, as I was quite out in the open, or had heard a
slight noise I made in exchanging the .500 Express (always loaded on
such occasions with solid bullets) for the 8-bore, when the barrels
struck together. Whilst I lay on the side of the ant-heap, peeping
over the top, he moved forward, and I covered the place where I saw
the bush move, in readiness to fire, as he was then only 16 yards from
me. At last I saw his grand head, which he held high, come through the
bush, but was unable to get a good view of his chest, as directly his
head was clear of the bush he lowered it, and my only chance was at
his head. Drawing a bead on his forehead, I pulled the trigger, but
the cartridge missed fire. He, however, did not hear the click of the
hammer, and before he was clear of the bush I dropped him dead in his
tracks with the left barrel at a distance of exactly 14 yards, the
bullet entering the centre of his forehead about an inch below the
frontlet of the horns.
As I have said before, a buffalo when it charges does not come on with
its head down, but always with its nose held straight out, and its
forehead almost horizontal; and it does not even lower its head when at
striking distance, but turns it to one side, and, with a rapid sidelong
sweep of the horns, impales or knocks down its foe as it passes.
The fact that it does not lower its head when about to strike not
only makes the charge difficult to stop or turn, but also lessens the
stalker’s chance of getting out of its way, as the beast is able to see
where it is going, and see also any movement on the sportsman’s part.
As buffaloes stand very low on their legs, a shot at the throat or
chest is very difficult, unless there is time for the stalker to kneel
or sit down, when he would be more on a level with and better able to
get a shot at either of these spots.
After a stalk and a successful shot every sportsman should avoid
firing at the retreating herd, on the chance of bagging another by
a fluke, unless he is prepared to follow up all the beasts that are
wounded. Apart from the cruelty of this practice, the fact of several
wounded buffaloes being in the vicinity of a shooting ground, and the
uncertainty of their whereabouts, is a source of great danger not only
to the sportsman himself and his men, but to other men, sportsmen or
otherwise, who come after him. When a buffalo is down, it should always
be approached with the utmost caution, and on no account should the
stalker go up to it without a heavy rifle in his hand, as there is no
knowing what a buffalo is capable of, however far gone he may appear to
be--so long as its side heaves, or it gives any other indication that
life is not quite extinct.
Should a buffalo after being wounded enter thick bush or other covert,
it is a good plan (and one I always adopt myself) to wait for a quarter
or half an hour before taking up the spoor, as the beast will be almost
certain to lie down, and will not only become weak and stiff from the
effects of the wound, more especially if a leg is damaged or broken,
but its suspicions will be to a certain extent allayed.
The African natives, whether professional hunters or only porters,
&c., with their extraordinarily sharp sight, are, as a rule, so much
quicker in detecting the slightest sign of a beast having passed, be
it a minute speck of blood, a bruised blade of grass, or a fragment of
freshly turned up earth, that I must advise the sportsman to let his
gun-bearers take up the spoor, whilst he, a yard or so in advance,
with rifle at full cock and ready for instant use, keeps a sharp
look-out ahead of him.
A buffalo very often--but not always, as some writers maintain--gives a
deep bellowing groan when just on the point of dying, and the sportsman
should always be on the alert for such an indication, as much time
can be saved by walking straight up to it without fear, instead of
cautiously poking and peering about in the bush, as is generally done
when following up a wounded buffalo.
The following account of a hunt I once had in the Arusha-wa-Chini
district in March 1887 will serve as an illustration of a buffalo’s
cunning, ferocity, and vitality.
I was encamped on the river Weri-weri, a short distance above the
native villages, but as the people were afraid to prowl far from their
homes on account of the Masai and other enemies, game was not only very
plentiful but less wild than elsewhere. Buffaloes were very numerous,
in large herds, besides a good many old bulls, either solitary or in
small bands of two or three. This country was also one of the best I
was ever in, from a stalker’s point of view, as the alluvial plains
on both banks of the river, though open, were dotted about with trees
of various kinds and sizes, and were in places quite park-like in
appearance. There were also numerous ant-heaps, and occasionally small
bushes dotted about, besides the grass, about 18 inches high, all of
which afforded capital covert. The plain on the left or eastern bank
of the river varied from a mile to a mile and a half in width, and
was bordered on its eastern side by a belt of thick bush and clumps
of forest trees, in which the buffaloes took up their quarters during
the heat of the day, coming out again in the evening to feed in the
open during the night and early morning. The bush, like most African
bush which borders on open plain, was fairly thin on the outskirts,
and was what is commonly known as open bush. Here was a very favourite
feeding-ground for waterbuck, impala, and other bush-loving antelopes,
besides buffaloes, which were generally found feeding in the early
morning before the sun became too hot.
As I walked over the plain on the left bank of the river I passed great
quantities of game--including eland, waterbuck, impala, and a troop
of thirteen ostriches (which I had tried many times to circumvent,
but always unsuccessfully until I drove them, when I got a fine old
cock bird), besides the everlasting zebra and ‘kongoni’ (hartebeest).
After going about three miles up the river, I at last saw two old bull
buffaloes on the opposite side of the plain, quietly feeding close to
an isolated patch of bush which stood some little distance from the
main belt out in the plain. As buffaloes have rather poor sight, and as
there were two or three big trees between the beasts and myself, about
400 yards from them, I told my men, some twenty-five in number, to
follow me in single file, and we all got up to a tree without the least
trouble. At that moment a herd of zebras, which had hitherto taken no
notice of us, suddenly took fright on getting our wind, and galloped
round between us and the buffaloes. The latter, being thus disturbed,
lumbered off into the isolated clump of thick bush close by. After
giving them time to settle down and forget their fears, I proceeded
more cautiously with my two gun-bearers, leaving the rest of the men
under the tree with orders to come on when they heard a shot or other
signal. The buffaloes, however, were evidently on the alert, and as
they were standing in the shade, they discovered us when we were still
100 yards off as we crossed the open, and bolted out on the opposite
side, making for the main bush. Running round the clump to try and keep
them in sight, I was just in time to see them enter the open bush and
disappear from view.
This made it necessary for us to take up their spoor, and while the
gun-bearers were so engaged I kept a look-out ahead. After going a
short distance, I suddenly saw one of the brutes trotting back towards
us, and when about 100 yards off it dived into a small dense clump of
bush some 20 yards square, followed almost immediately afterwards by
the other one. This proceeding on the part of buffaloes I have read
of, though it was the first and only instance in my own experience,
and as my suspicions were aroused, instead of making straight for them
along their spoor, I made a détour through the low straggling bush and
stalked up to a small tree within 60 yards of the clump they were in.
At first I could see nothing of them, the clump being too thick, but
with the aid of binoculars I made out part of the head and the outline
of the neck of one of them as it stood broadside on. Taking the 8-bore,
I fired at the place where I thought his shoulder ought to be, and he
fell with a deep groan, which at first led me to believe that he was
either dead or dying. The other one promptly floundered out of the bush
and stood broadside on, looking in my direction sufficiently long to
enable me to change rifles and plant a 4-bore bullet in his shoulder;
but it was too high and too far back, and off he went. In the meantime
the other one in the clump, after kicking and plunging about, picked
himself up and went after his companion, and as I saw that he was very
lame, I made so certain that he would not go far that I did not fire at
him again. Before following them I took a hasty survey of the ground
and found my suspicions confirmed. They had returned on their own spoor
when I first saw them trotting back, and had I not seen them, I should
have followed up their spoor, which I found led close past the bush
they were in, and they might have made themselves disagreeable and
taken me at a disadvantage. I then hurried after them with the 8-bore,
and, outrunning my gun-bearers, soon overtook them, as they were both
lame, getting within 70 yards, when the one which had received the
4-bore bullet, and was a trifle behind the other, evidently heard me
coming along behind him, as he whisked round and stood staring at me,
broadside on, whilst the other continued to retreat. Sitting down (my
favourite shooting position, and as I was much blown after my run with
a heavy rifle), I took a steady shot at his shoulder, and distinctly
heard the bullet strike, but it had absolutely no effect, and the beast
never even flinched. Hastily jamming in another cartridge in order
to have one in reserve in case he should charge, I again fired at his
shoulder, and he dropped as if struck by lightning; he fell so quickly
that I did not see him fall. He was, however, not dead, as I could see
his side heaving above the top of the grass as he lay. By this time the
gun-bearers had come up, followed shortly afterwards by the rest of
the men, who had come on when they had heard the first two shots, and
who, on seeing that the beast was down, ran up like a pack of wolves to
‘chinja’ it--i.e. to cut its throat. Knowing, however, that it was not
dead, I ran forward and shouted to them not to go near; but they were
too excited to pay heed to my warning, and were standing all round it,
when, after a desperate effort to regain its legs, it jumped up, the
men flying in all directions. Catching sight of my second gun-bearer,
who had also gone up to it, and who at the time was carrying my 4-bore
rifle, it went straight for him. The man bolted, and, finding that
the buffalo was close upon him, dropped the rifle--the stock of which
was snapped short off at the grip by the buffalo treading on it--and
ran for dear life, the beast being within a few inches of him, and
giving vent to a furious grunt at each step. For some little time I
was unable to shoot, as the rest of the men were scattered and dodging
about between myself and the buffalo, so I shouted to the gun-bearer
to run round towards me, which he did, and I was able to fire, but the
8-bore bullet had apparently no effect on the infuriated beast. At the
same moment the man doubled and ran straight away from me, making for
a small tree about 100 yards off, twisting and turning as he ran, but
the buffalo still stuck close to him and doubled as quickly as the man
did. All this time I was tearing along in pursuit, hoping to get a
shot, but dared not fire for fear of hitting the man, who was dodging
about from side to side, and I was some 60 yards behind when they
reached the tree. This the man endeavoured to catch hold of so as to
swing himself round, but he was going so fast that the impetus caused
his hand to slip, and he tripped up and fell forward flat on his face
into the grass, which was some 2½ feet high under the shade of the
tree. The buffalo, being so close to him at the time, overshot him, but
whipped round, and I twice saw it give a vicious dig at him with its
head and then kneel down two or three times, when I could only see its
stern above the grass. By the time I got close up the buffalo was in a
kneeling position; and, thinking the man was probably dead, I raised my
rifle to fire, when the man, whom I could not see in the longish grass,
raised his head and shoulders from underneath the beast’s stomach
directly in the line of fire, obliging me to divert the muzzle until
he wriggled himself out of line, when a couple of bullets at close
quarters settled this cunning, savage, yet plucky beast. The man’s back
and the calves of his legs were covered with blood from the buffalo’s
mouth and nostrils during the run, showing how very close it had been
to him all the time. He told me afterwards that when he fell he turned
over on to his back, and the buffalo made a bad shot each time it
lunged at him with its head, or tried to kneel on him, owing perhaps to
the fact that it was weak and dazed from the loss of blood, and he was
therefore able to twist himself out of the way. It, however, caught him
a very severe blow on the knee, which nearly dislocated it, and made
it necessary to carry him into camp on a litter; but after a little
careful doctoring and complete rest he was able to take the field again
in three weeks.
[Illustration: The buffalo was close upon him]
On cutting up the beast, I found the 4-bore bullet was too far back,
and also too high. The first 8-bore bullet had caught the beast fair
behind the shoulder, and had gone through both lungs rather low down,
and I think, if the beast had been left alone after it had been knocked
down by the next shot, it would very soon have died quietly; but, as
it was, the men rushing up and standing round it seemed to inspire it
with a final desire for revenge. The second 8-bore bullet was, as I
expected, too high, and had passed through the dorsal ridge just above
the vertebræ. The shot fired at it as it ran past me caught it in the
proper place, went through both lungs and just grazed the heart, and it
is more than probable that it was this shot which prevented what might
have been a serious accident.
The other old bull, although we followed him for a long way, eager for
revenge, got clean away.