Saturday mornin' I woke up hungry an' stiff in the j'ints, and I laid off for the camp. Blow me, if that blamed bull hadn't been there ag'in. The kettle were clean gone this time, and all the other things was smashed to nothing--so there wasn't a smell, let 'lone a mouthful. I were that savage I jes' went hot-foot on the old boomer's spoor ag'in, an' this time he were travellin'. He went straight on for fifteen miles, over the ridge, inter a deep kloof--where he laid in grub--and then set off, nose on, for another five mile towards Alicedale, where he had a bathe in a pool. All this time I hadn't seen even the flap of his ears, and I were still on his spoor, when I just flung myself inter a hump o' grass and chawed on to a stick o' _biltong_. Then I went to sleep, 'cos I couldn't keep my eyes skinned, but the morning cold woke me in the small hours, and the fust thing I seed were a blazing eye looking at me outer the dark. It sparkled and flickered and blinked, with the red heart of it contractin' an' expandin'. In the drowsiness I lay there, thinkin' 'twas the mornin' star, when I yeard the rumble of a elephant's inside, an' I knew that ole bull were a standing over me; maybe had been standin' there for hours waitin' for me to wake so's he could enjoy seein' me shake. "Afraid! Well, I think so. And the shakes went scooting up an' down my backbone, an' my heart nearly stopped and I could skasely breathe. Then I felt about for my gun with one hand, then with the other, and then with each foot; but, by gosh! the wepin weren't there, an' the cole chills were chasing each other up an' down my bones, an' the ole bull laafed in his stummick, while that busted red diamond glowered at me. I thought o' poor ole Harkins flattened out, an' I jest pulled the plug outer the powder-horn, then I got out the flint an' steel, an' lay there watching the outline of the ole cuss come clearer an' clearer out of the darkness an' saw the shine of his wicked little eyes. He laafed in his stummick ag'in, and the coil of his trunk came out. I got the flint ready over the powder, and the stir of my body made him suspicious. His big ears went out like sails, and he made a step forrard. Then I struck with the steel, an' turned over on my back. He brought his trunk down `ker--whack,' on my sitting place, rolling me over an' over--and when I rubbed the dust outer my eyes I yeard him smashin' through the trees. The puff and flame of the powder must ha' skeered him bad, but I didn't wait beyond a second to search for my gun, and I seed the stock one side of a tree and the barrel bent up a yard away. He had moved it away, and were waitin' for me to wake. Then I lit out for the water an' hid away. That was Saturday. On Sunday I took the back tracks, without a wepin or anythin', and blow me ef that bull didn't reg'lar hunt me. He did that, an' in the afternoon he caught me up and druv me inter a big tree.