The first at night broke the arm of
the gorilla god and would have killed him had not the charge hung fire
and given him time to protect his head. The second did kill him in the
midst of a great scrimmage when everything was moving. The third,
fired by the glare of lightning after a long swim, slew the Motombo,
and the fourth, loosed at this great distance from a moving boat, was
the bane of that cold-blooded and treacherous man, Komba, who thought
that he had trapped us to Pongo-land to be murdered and eaten as a
sacrifice. Lastly there was always the consciousness that no mistake
must be made, since with but four percussion caps it could not be
retrieved.
I am sure that I could not have done so well with any other rifle,
however modern and accurate it might be. But to this little Purdey
weapon I had been accustomed from my youth, and that, as any marksman
will know, means a great deal. I seemed to know it and it seemed to
know me. It hangs on my wall to this day, although of course I never
use it now in our breech-loading era.
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