I thought we were goners, for when a bull comes down on anything with his forefeet, it's done for.

But he slowly settled back, perhaps doubtful.

Then, as another buffalo came to the edge of the bank, luckily a little way from us, the bull turned broadside, presenting a splendid target.

Then I whispered to Williams: 'Now's your chance.

Shoot!' I waited for the shot, but none came.