Presently up jumped
the insulted buffalo, and charging through the men, he disappeared in
the high grass, falling, as the men declared, in the deep morass. It was
dusk, and the men, being rather ashamed of their folly in dancing
instead of hamstringing the animal and securing their beef, slunk back
to their vessels.
Jan. 10th.--Early in the morning the buffalo was heard groaning in the
marsh, not far from the spot where he was supposed to have fallen. About
forty men took their guns and knives, intent upon beefsteaks, and waded
knee-deep in mud and water through the high grass of the morass in
search. About one hour passed in this way, and, seeing the reckless
manner in which the men were wandering about, I went down below to beat
the drum to call them back, which the vakeel had been vainly attempting.
Just at this moment I heard a distant yelling, and shot fired after
shot, about twenty times, in quick succession. I saw with the telescope
a crowd of men about three hundred yards distant, standing on a white
ant-hill raised above the green sea of high reeds, from which elevated
point they were keeping up a dropping fire at some object
indistinguishable in the high grass. The death-howl was soon raised, and
the men rushing down from their secure position, shortly appeared,
carrying with them my best choush, Sali Achmet, dead.
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