"He only received this one terrific blow, though he was pushed to the bottom of the gully--only a few yards--in front of the buffalo's knees and right under its nose, but my bullet had for a moment partially paralysed it. I got another cartridge into the chamber of my rifle as quickly as possible, and, turning to the buffalo, somehow got a second bullet into its hind-quarters, which brought it down altogether. When I was again ready to fire, the buffalo was on its knees, with its hind-legs doubled in under it, in the bed of the gully a few yards below me, and Elani was under its great neck between its nose and its chest, with one arm outstretched and his right hand on the buffalo's shoulder, so that I had to shoot carefully for fear of hitting it. "Elani then pushed himself with his feet free of the buffalo, whilst I stood where I was, ready to put in another shot if necessary, and it was, for the brave and determined bull partially recovered from the shocks its nervous system had received, though the mists of death were already in its eyes." Another bullet finished this gallant old bull. Elani the Somali was little the worse for his severe handling. Selous spent the autumn of 1912 quietly at home or shooting with friends. Writing to Chapman, September 26th, 1912, he says: "Don't worry about our visit to Hexham the other day. We got through the time quite easily. I can always pass an hour or two reading, very comfortably, but what I dislike more than anything else in English life is the crowds of people everywhere.... The crowds spoil all the pleasure of going to a cricket- or football-match or a theatre. It is always such a trouble getting away. I am already longing to be in Africa again. If only Mrs. Selous would be happy there, I would rather live in East Africa than in this country." His mother[65] was still alive at Longford House, Gloucester, but getting old and feeble. He visited her in December, 1912. On December 7th, 1912, he was in Devonshire, shooting pheasants at MacMillan's place. "We got two fine days' shooting," he writes to Chapman, "but at the best, pheasant shooting is a very inferior sport to the pursuit of the grouse and the blackcock on the wild free moors of Northumberland. May I live to renew my acquaintance with them next year." Never did the spring come round but it always filled Selous with new delight, and then he used to write me long letters of the arrival of the birds and the advent of the early flowers. His joy was great when the Wrynecks took to his nesting-boxes in the garden, the Long-eared Owls nested in the woods close by, or the rare Dartford Warbler was seen again in its old haunts. Thus, on April 15th, he says:--