“The antelope having entered the reeds, I gave my horse to my after-rider, and with my rifle on full cock and at the ready I proceeded to stalk with extreme caution throughout the length and breadth of the cover; but I stalked in vain; the antelope had vanished, and was nowhere to be found. I then returned to my steed and rode slowly up the river’s bank towards my camp. I had ridden to within a few hundred yards of the wagons, and was meditating how I should best circumvent the _Serolomootlooque_, when once more this lovely antelope crossed my path; I had been unwittingly driving him before me along the bank of the river. He trotted like a roebuck into the thick cover and then stood broadside among the thorn bushes. I sprang from my saddle, and guessing about his position, I fired and missed him; he then trotted along a rhinoceros’s footpath, and gave me a second chance. Again I fired, and before my rifle was down from my shoulder the _Serolomootlooque_ lay prostrate in the dust. The ball had cut the skin open along his ribs, and entering his body had passed along his neck, and had lodged in his brains, where we found it on preparing the head for stuffing. I was not a little gratified at my good fortune in securing this novel and valuable trophy; he was one of the most perfect antelopes I had ever beheld, both in symmetry and colour. I had him immediately conveyed to camp, where I took his measurement, and wrote out a correct description of him for the benefit of naturalists. I christened him the ‘_Antelopus roualeynei_,’ or ‘Bushbuck of the Limpopo.’”