On my last day, I decided that a big old cow would make a neat European mount, and Mark and I spent a long hot day looking for a nice cow. And we found her, lying under some trees with a herd to escape the heat. When they finally winded us and gathered in a tight group, I noticed that she was the tallest buffalo in the herd, and I was forced to place my shot over her herd mates into her spine; she dropped instantly. The bull wasn`t pleased, and almost charged us as we approached, but finally moved off. I was tickled with the cow; she was almost as wide as a good sweeper bull, a dry, bony, half-blind cow, a great trophy.
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