Assegai полностью

Poor old blighter, Leon thought. A bullet in the head will be a real kindness. He touched Graf Otto’s shoulder. ‘Do it,’ he whispered, and braced himself for the shot. But nothing could have prepared him for what followed.

Otto threw back his head and let out a wild shout: ‘Come, then! Show us how dangerous you can be.’ He fired a shot over the buffalo’s head. The bull recoiled violently and spun to face them. It stared at them through its one good eye, then let out a loud snort of consternation and wheeled away. Bursting into a full gallop, it fled straight back into the thorn palisade. At the moment before it disappeared Graf Otto fired again.

Leon saw dust fly from the top of the buffalo’s haunch, a hand’s breadth to the left of the knotty vertebrae of the spine that showed through the scarred grey hide. He stared after the fleeing bull with dismay. ‘You wounded him deliberately!’ he accused, in a tone of utter disbelief.

‘Jawohl! Of course. You said they needed to be wounded if we wanted some sport. Well, now it is wounded, and I am going to tickle up the other two as well!’ Before Leon could recover from the shock, Graf Otto let out another savage war-cry and took off in pursuit of the stricken animal. The two Masai were as stunned as Leon, and the three stood in a bewildered group, staring after the German.

‘He is mad!’ Loikot said, in awed tones.

‘Yes,’ said Leon, grimly. ‘He is. Listen to him.’

There was uproar in the scrub just ahead: the drumming of many hoofs and the breaking of branches, snorts of anger and alarm, the detonation of rifle shots and the whump!, whump! of heavy bullets striking flesh and bone. Leon realized that Graf Otto was shooting at all three bulls, not to kill but to wound. He swung around to the Masai. ‘There is nothing more you can do here. Kichwa Muzuru has smashed the beer pot into a hundred pieces. Go back to the car,’ he ordered. ‘Take care of the memsahib.’

‘M’bogo, that is a great stupidity. We go forward together or not at all.’

There was another shot, and this one was followed by the death bellow of one bull. At least one was down, Leon thought, but there were two more to go. There was neither time nor latitude for argument. ‘Come on, then,’ Leon snapped. They ran forward, and came upon Graf Otto standing at the edge of a small opening in the thorn. At his feet lay the carcass of a dead bull. Its back legs were still kicking convulsively in its death throes. The beast must have charged at him as he stepped into the clearing. He had dropped it with a bullet through the brain.

‘You were wrong, Courtney. They are not so dangerous,’ he remarked coolly, as he slid another round of ammunition into the breech of the rifle.

‘How many others have you wounded?’ Leon barked.

‘Both of them, of course. Don’t worry. You may still have a chance to learn to fly an aeroplane.’

‘You have proved your courage beyond any doubt, sir. Now, give me your rifle and let me finish the job.’

‘I never send a boy to do a man’s work, Courtney. Besides, you have your good spear. For what reason do you need a rifle?’

‘You are going to get somebody killed.’

‘Ja, perhaps. But I don’t think it’ll be me.’ He strode forward towards the wall of thorn bush on the far side of the clearing. ‘One of them went in there. I am going to pull him out by his tail.’

It was futile to try to stop him. Leon held his breath as Graf Otto reached the far end of the clearing.

The wounded buffalo was waiting for him behind the first fringe of vegetation. It let him come in close, then charged at him from a mere five yards. The thorn exploded before its rush. Graf Otto had the rifle to his shoulder in an instant, and the muzzles were almost touching the bull’s wet black nostrils when he fired. It was another perfect brain shot. The buffalo’s front legs collapsed under it. However, the momentum of its charge carried it forward and it slid into its tormentor’s legs like a black avalanche. He was sent spinning backwards, the rifle thrown from his hands, and hit the ground flat on his back. Leon heard the breath forced in a rush from his lungs. He sat up painfully, wheezing, as Leon ran forward to help him.

Leon was in the centre of the clearing when Manyoro shouted an urgent warning behind him. ‘On your left side, M’bogo. The other one is coming!’