for he saw the antlers of a bull working along behind them just over a tiny ridge. As the bull came into view, I saw him sticking it on the shoulder; his second shot was a little behind the first. The bull went down. It got its feet again, and Harry put him under for good with a solid bullet in the hips. Looking up he saw a second bull alone, emerging from a patch of clover on the summit of the opposite hill 40 yards away. The flash point black but the range was a bit too long and his bullet kicked up a cloud of churned mud as it struck the animal's belly. I was entirely out of the race for it was nearly 50 yards away on the summit of the hill. I did not fire my gun at the animal, thinking that the bullets all fell far short. Harry's bull was not yet dead, and when I got down the hill to show what an enormous amount of killing these animals need, it was considerably smaller than the first one we had killed but had an enormous beautiful skin. I hunted back to camp after the bull had been skinned and I got another network.