1 AN AwkwARD TwENTy MINUTES

BY SIR SAMUEL W. BAKER

Sir Samuel White Baker (1821–1893): An English traveler who explored the region around the sources of the White Nile. Among other works descriptive of his travels and adventures, he wrote “The Rifle and Hound in Ceylon,” from which this selectionis taken.

The haunts of the buffalo are in the hottest parts of Ceylon. In the neighborhood of lakes, swamps, and extensive plains, the buffalo exists in large herds; wallowing in the soft mire, and passing two thirds of his time in the water itself, he may be termed almost amphibious .

He is about the size of a large ox, of immense bone and strength, very active, and his hide is almost free from hair, giving an unpleasant appearance to his india-rubberlike skin. He carries his head in a peculiar manner, the horns thrown back, and his nose projecting on a level with his forehead, thus securing himself from a front shot in a fatal part. This renders him a dangerous enemy, as he will receive any number of balls from a small gun in the throat and chest, without evincing the least symptom of distress. The shoulder is the acknowledged point to aim at, but from his disposition to face the guns this is a difficult shot to obtain. Should he succeed in catching his antagonist, his fury knows no bounds, and he gores his victim to death, trampling and kneeling upon him till he is satisfied that life is extinct.

This sport would not be very dangerous in the forests, where the buffalo could be easily stalked and where escape would also be rendered less difficult in case of accident; but, as he is generally met with upon the open plains, free from a single tree, he must be killed when once brought to bay or he will soon exhibit his qualifications for mischief. There is a degree of uncertainty in their character which much increases the danger of the pursuit. A buffalo may retreat at first sight with every symptom of cowardice and thus induce a too eager pursuit, when he will suddenly become the assailant. I cannot explain their character better than by describing the first wild buffaloes that I ever saw.

I was on a shooting trip, accompanied by my brother, whom I shall designate as B. We had passed a toilsome day in pushing and dragging our ponies for twenty miles along a narrow path through a thick jungle, which half a dozen natives in advance were opening before us with billhooks.

We emerged upon an extensive plain bordered by fine forests. The principal tenants of the plain were wild buffaloes. A herd of about a hundred were lying in a swampy hollow about a quarter of a mile from us. With our two light double- barreled guns, we advanced to the attack.

We had not left the obscurity of the forest many seconds

before we were observed. The herd started up from their muddy bed, and gazed at us with astonishment. It was a fair open plain of some thousand acres, bounded by the forest which we had just quitted on the one side, and by the lake on the other; thus there was no cover for our advance, and all we could do was to push on.

As we approached the herd, they ranged up in a compact body, presenting a very regular line in front. From this line, seven large bulls stepped forth, and from their vicious appearance seemed disposed to show fight. In the meantime we were running up and were soon within thirty paces of them. At this distance, the main body of the herd suddenly wheeled round and thundered across the plain in full retreat. One of the bulls at the same moment charged straight at us, but when within twenty paces of the guns, he turned to one side and instantly received two balls in the shoulder, B. and I having fired at the same moment. As luck would have it, his bladebone was thus broken and he fell upon his knees, but recovering himself in an instant, he retreated on three legs to the water.

We now received assistance from an unexpected quarter. One of the large bulls, his companion, charged after him with great fury, and soon overtaking the wounded beast, he struck him full in the side, throwing him over with a great shock on the muddy border of the lake. Here the wounded animal lay, unable to rise, and his conqueror commenced a slow retreat across the plain.

Leaving B. to finish the wounded buffalo, I gave chase to the retreating bull. At an easy canter he would gain a hundred paces, and then, turning, he would face me; throwing his nose up, and turning his head to one side with a short grunt, he would advance quickly for a few paces and then again retreat as I continued to approach.

In this manner, he led me a chase of about a mile along the banks of the lake, but he appeared determined not to bring the fight to an issue at close quarters. So I fired a long shot at him and, reloading my last spare ball, I continued the chase, led on by ignorance and excitement.

The lake in one part stretched in a narrow creek into the plain, and the bull now directed his course into the angle formed by this turn. I thought that I had him in a corner, and, redoubling my exertions, I gained upon him considerably. He retreated slowly to the very edge of the creek, and I had gained so fast upon him that I was not thirty paces distant, when he plunged into the water and commenced swimming across the creek. This was not more than sixty yards in breadth, and I knew that I could now bring him to action.

Running round the borders of the creek as fast as I could, I arrived at the opposite side on his intended landing place just as his black form reared from the deep water and gained the shallows, into which I had waded knee-deep to meet him. I now experienced that pleasure as he stood sullenly eying me within fifteen paces.

I took a quick but steady aim at his chest, at the point of connection with the throat. The smoke of the barrel passed to one side; there he stood, he had not flinched; he literally had not moved a muscle. The only change that had taken place was in his eye; this, which had been hitherto merely sullen, was now beaming with fury; but his form was as motionless as a statue. A stream of blood poured from a wound within an inch of the spot at which I had aimed; had it not been for this fact, I should not have believed him struck.

Annoyed at the failure of the shot, I tried him with the lefthand barrel at the same hole. The report of the gun echoed over the lake, but there he stood as though he bore a charmed life; an increased flow of blood from the wound and additional luster in his eye were the only signs of his being struck.

I was unloaded and had not a single ball remaining. It was now his turn. I dared not turn to retreat, as I knew he would immediately charge, and we stared each other out of countenance.

With a short grunt he suddenly sprang forward, but fortunately, as I did not move, he halted; he had, however, decreased his distance, and we now gazed at each other within ten paces. I began to think buffalo shooting somewhat dangerous and I would have given something to have been a mile away, but ten times as much to have had my four-ounce rifle in my hand. Oh, how I longed for that rifle in this momen of suspense! Unloaded, without the power of defense, with the absolute certainty of a charge from an overpowering brute, my hand instinctively found the handle of my hunting knife,— a useless weapon against such a foe.

Knowing that B. was not aware of my situation at the distance which separated us,—about a mile, —without taking my eyes from the figure before me, I raised my hand to my mouth and gave a long and loud whistle; this was a signal that I knew would be soon answered if heard.

With a stealthy step and another short grunt, the bull again advanced a couple of paces toward me. He seemed aware of my helplessness, and he was the picture of rage and fury, pawing the water and stamping violently with his fore feet. I gave myself up for lost, but putting as fierce an expression into my features as I could possibly assume, I stared hopelessly at my maddened antagonist.

Suddenly a bright thought flashed through my mind. Without taking my eyes off the animal before me, I put a double charge of powder down the right-hand barrel, and tearing off a piece of my shirt, I took all the money from my pouch, three shillings in sixpenny pieces, and two anna pieces, which I luckily had with me in this small coin for paying coolies .

Quickly making them into a rouleau with the piece of rag, I rammed them down the barrel, and they were hardly well home before the bull again sprang forward. So quick was it that I had no time to replace the ramrod, and I threw it into the water, bringing my gun on full cock in the same instant. However, he again halted, being now within about seven paces from me, and we again gazed fixedly at each other, but with altered feelings on my part. I had faced him hopelessly with an empty gun for more than a quarter of an hour, which seemed a century. I now had a charge in my gun, which I knew if reserved till he was within a foot of the muzzle would certainly floor him, and I awaited his onset with comparative carelessness, still keeping my eyes opposed to his gaze.

At this time I heard a splashing in the water behind me, accompanied by the hard breathing of something evidently distressed. The next moment I heard B.’s voice. He could hardly speak for want of breath, having run the whole way to my rescue, but I could understand that he had only one barrel loaded and no bullets left. I dared not turn my face from the buffalo, but I cautioned B. to reserve his fire till the bull should be close into me, and then to aim at the head.

The words were hardly uttered when, with the concentrated rage of the last twenty minutes, he rushed straight at me! It was the work of an instant. B. fired without effect. The horns were lowered, their points were on either side of me, and the muzzle of the gun barely touched his forehead when I pulled the trigger and three shillings’ worth of small change rattled into his hard head. Down he went and rolled over with the suddenly checked momentum of his charge, and away went B. and I as fast as our heels would carry us, through the water and over the plain, knowing that he was not dead, but only stunned. There was a large fallen tree about half a mile from us, whose whitened branches, rising high above the ground, offered a tempting asylum. To this we directed our flying steps, and, after a run of a hundred yards, we turned and looked behind us. He had regained his feet and was following us slowly. We now experienced the difference of feeling between hunting and being hunted; and fine sport we must have afforded him.

On he came, but fortunately so stunned by the collision with her Majesty’s features upon the coin which he had dared to oppose that he could only reel forward at a slow canter. By degrees even this pace slackened, and he fell. We were only too glad to be able to reduce our speed likewise, but we had no sooner stopped to breathe than he was again up and after us. At length, however, we gained the tree, and we beheld him with satisfaction stretched powerless upon the ground, but not dead, within two hundred yards of us.

We retreated under cover of the forest to the spot at which we had left the horses, fortunately meeting no opposition from wild animals, and we shortly arrived at the village at which we took up our quarters. YBRNmccSEiUq4wyrDXGiLvMpkC6Yh4xWTkb275soRqf0TCeiciFdnIQHaA9va0GA