We worked our way along, and in a little while I had the pleasure of bringing down one of the yearling buffaloes of the kind that Jack suggested would be desirable. A single bullet sufficed for his case, as he gave me a good shot at short distance, and, besides, a yearling does not possess the strength and endurance of one of those old veterans such as I had first obtained.
During the excitement that immediately followed the shooting of this second buffalo I thought I heard the report of a gun a mile or so away to the westward. It was only a surmise, as we were just then tramping around in the bushes, and paying no attention to anything except what immediately surrounded us. I gave the subject not a moment's thought, and speedily forgot all about it, until a sudden and very unexpected circumstance brought it to my mind again.
One of the dangers of shooting in company, in addition to hitting one another, is that of coming unexpectedly upon an infuriated beast that has been wounded by somebody else than yourself. If you are following an animal wounded by yourself you will exercise proper caution, but no skill in the art of hunting, and no amount of caution, can protect you from the charge of an ugly animal that has been wounded by some other hunter. This has happened to me on several occasions, and it happened on the buffalo-hunt which I have just been describing.
We were going along through the forest peaceably enough, Mirogo leading the way and I following, with Kalil, carrying my gun, close at my heels. No buffaloes were in sight, and there was no occasion for me to be burdened with my rifle just at that moment.
Suddenly we heard a great crashing in the bushes twenty or thirty yards away, and out of them sprang an infuriated bull, who made directly at us.
Mirogo had just time to shout "Look out, sir!" when he sprang into a small tree; but there was no tree for me to spring into. I jumped to one side of the path, and at the same time brought my rifle around, which Kalil, with great presence of mind, had shoved into my hands the moment he heard the crash. I gave the buffalo a snap-shot just behind the left shoulder as he passed me, not having time to bring the weapon to an aim. It was one of the luckiest shots I ever planted, as it brought him, dead, to the ground.
The manner of this buffalo indicated that he had been wounded, and I was sure that he had not been wounded by me. It naturally occurred to me that our amazon neighbors had been trying their skill, and had been unsuccessful in bringing down their game, at least in this instance.
I told Mirogo to examine the buffalo for bullet-marks other than my own. He examined the body of the brute, and it turned out as I expected: the animal had been wounded, having received a bullet in the right shoulder.
It is a rule of the chase in Africa that, when several people are hunting together, the first shot is the counting one. If I fire at an animal and wound it, and it runs off in your direction, and you shoot and bring it down, the prize is mine, not yours. In some cases such a decision seems to be very unjust, but on a moment's reflection the reader will see that it is founded on justice. The first one who hits a creature disables it more or less, and through the disability that he creates the subsequent hunter or hunters are enabled to kill it.
I told Mirogo to mark the spot by attaching a rag to the tallest bush in the vicinity, and then continue in the same general direction we had been traveling. He acted accordingly, and we proceeded with our hunting, the impression being very strong on my mind that before we saw any more buffaloes we would pretty certainly meet the hunter who had planted the initial shot in the animal I had recently finished.