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Thirty yards further the bush-cow dropped and died with a bullet through its heart, while the victor, grinning as only a black can grin, strode magnificently up to his victim and planted one foot upon the quivering carcass.

"That won't do, corporal," said Wilmshurst. "We must send him back. Take five men with you. It will be only two hours' trek." Accordingly the Haussas set to work to make a stretcher, performing the task with wonderful celerity. They were on the point of lifting the helpless man when the shout was raised. "Bush-cow, him come!"

Once a large bush-cow thundered almost through the blazing logs, bellowing frantically as a panther with its claws deeply dug into the huge brute's hide was remorselessly tearing at the throat of its prey. Monkeys, too, huge simians looking human-like in the dull red glare, came shuffling from the shadow of the neighbouring trees to gaze fixedly at the unusual sight of a fire.

"Take cover, all of you!" shouted the subaltern, loath to hamper his task by additional casualties. The Haussas obeyed with one exception Bela Moshi. The sergeant, slipping a clip into the magazine, stood right in the centre of the path along which the second bush-cow was tearing, eager to avenge its mate. Wilmshurst made no further attempt to order Beta Moshi to take refuge.

Charging down the narrow track was a huge animal of the buffalo tribe, commonly known in Central Africa as a "bush-cow." The ground trembled under the thud of the brute's ponderous weight as it rushed at terrific speed to attack the khaki-clad blacks. One man alone stood his ground.

Too late the plucky Haussa attempted to avoid the impetus by springing aside. Even as he leapt to his feet the man was caught by the lowered head of the ferocious brute and tossed ten feet in the air. Across the bed of the dried-up stream the bush-cow charged, until Wilmshurst hurriedly came to the conclusion that it was quite time for him to dodge behind a tree.

"Unload!" he hissed, knowing that the risk he ran from an excited man with a loaded rifle was greater than that confronting him. At a terrific pace the bush-cow bore down. Twenty yards from the motionless man the brute lowered its head. In that position its vision was obscured by the thick tufts of long hair.

The track of a 'bush-cow' once crossed my path: the halves of the spoor were some five inches long by three wide, and the hoofs knuckled backwards so as to show false hoofs of almost equal size. I was unable to procure for Dr. Günther a specimen of the 'bush-dog, as the Kruboys call it: last year I was bringing home a live one in the s.s.

Having taken its final "sighting position" the animal relied upon its momentum to achieve the destruction of its human enemy. The moment the bush-cow lowered its head Bela Moshi, with every sense on the alert, leapt sideways behind a tree. Then, as the infuriated quadruped thundered past, the Haussa brought his rifle to the shoulder and fired.

As he made for shelter he saw the animal's fore-legs collapse and its ponderous carcass plough the ground. Making his way through the press of excited Haussas Wilmshurst saw that the bush-cow was stone dead. The bullet had penetrated the brain, entering by a neatly-drilled puncture and emerging by a hole as large as a man's fist.