About four o’clock I called for Ngui and when he came told him to get Charo and the rifles and a shotgun and tell Mthuka to bring up the hunting car. Mary was writing letters and I told her I had asked for the car and then Charo and Ngui came and pulled the guns in their full length cases out from under the cots and Ngui assembled the big .577. They were finding shells and counting them and checking on solids for the Springfield and the Mannlicher. It was the first of the fine movements of the hunt.
“What are we going to hunt?”
“We have to get the meat. We’ll try an experiment Pop and I were talking about for practice for the lion. I want you to kill a wildebeest at twenty yards. You and Charo stalk him.”
“I don’t know if we can ever get that close.”
“You’ll get up. Don’t wear your sweater. Take it and put it on if it gets cool coming home. And roll up your sleeves now if you’re going to roll them up. Please, honey.”
Miss Mary had a habit, just before she was going to shoot, of rolling up the right sleeve of her bush jacket. Maybe it was only turning back the cuff. But it would frighten an animal at a hundred yards and over.
“You know I don’t do that anymore.”
“Good. The reason I mentioned the sweater is because it might make the rifle stock too long for you.”
“All right. But what if it’s cold in the morning when we find the lion?”
“I only want to see how you shoot without it. To see what difference it makes.”
“Everybody’s always experimenting with me. Why can’t I just go out and shoot and kill cleanly?”
“You can, honey. You’re going to now.”
We rode out past the airstrip. Ahead on our right was the broken park country and in one meadow I saw two groups of wildebeest feeding and an old bull lying down not far from a clump of trees. I nodded at him to Mthuka, who had already seen him, and motioned with my hand for us to circle widely to the left and then back where we could not be seen behind the trees.
I signaled to Mthuka to stop the car and Mary got out and Charo after her carrying a pair of field glasses. Mary had her 6.5 Mannlicher and when she was on the ground she lifted the bolt, pulled it back, shoved it forward and saw that the cartridge went into the chamber, turned it down and then moved the safety lever over.
“Now what am I to do?”
“You saw the old bull lying down?”
“Yes. I saw two other bulls in the bunches.”
“You and Charo see how close you can get to that old bull. The wind is right and you ought to be able to get up to the trees. Do you see the patch?”
The old bull wildebeest lay there, black and strange looking with his huge head, down-curved, widespread horns and savage-looking mane. Charo and Mary were getting closer to the clump of trees now and the wildebeest stood up. He looked even stranger now and in the light he looked very black. He had not seen Mary and Charo and he stood broadside to them and looking toward us. I thought what a fine and strange-looking animal he was and that we took them too much for granted because we saw them every day. He was not a noble-looking animal but he was a most extraordinary looking beast and I was delighted to watch him and watch the slow, bent double approach of Charo and Mary.
Mary was at the edge of the trees where she could shoot now and we watched Charo kneel and Mary raise her rifle and lower her head. We heard the shot and the sound of the bullet striking bone almost at the same time and saw the black form of the old bull raise up in the air and fall heavily on his side. The other wildebeest burst into a bounding gallop and we roared toward Mary and Charo and the black hump in the meadow. Mary and Charo were standing close to the wildebeest when we all piled out of the hunting car. Charo was very happy and had his knife out. Everyone was saying, “Piga mzuri. Piga mzuri sana, Memsahib. Mzuri, mzuri, sana.”
I put my arm around her and said, “It was a beautiful shot, kitten, and a fine stalk. Now shoot him just at the base of the left ear for kindness.”
“Shouldn’t I shoot him in the forehead?”
“No, please. Just at the base of the ear.”
She waved everyone back, turned the safety bolt over, raised the rifle, checked it properly, took a deep breath, expelled it, put her weight on her left front foot and fired a shot that made a small hole at the exact juncture of the base of the left ear and the skull. The wildebeest’s front legs relaxed slowly and his head turned very gently. He had a certain dignity in death and I put my arm around Mary and turned her away so she would not see Charo slip the knife into the sticking place which would make the old bull legal meat for all Mohammedans.
“Aren’t you happy I got so close to him and killed him clean and good and just how I was supposed to? Aren’t you a little bit proud of your kitten?”
“You were wonderful. You got up to him beautifully and you killed him dead with one shot and he never knew what happened nor suffered at all.”
“I must say he looked awfully big and, honey, he even looked fierce.”