And the nilgai, we learned, were not going to fall into line like carnival ducks. After agreeing that Diana would take the first shot unless there was a good close opportunity for the .45-70, we hunted hard that first morning. We blew several stalks. While bringing up the rear, I could see plainly when Clay was onto a bull; he'd stop, peer, and glass. So I'd stop, peer, and glass, too, in the same spot--but I'll be damned if I could see anything. Finally, toward the end of the morning, I spotted four jet-black legs swishing though the Guinea grass, and then barely made out a gray body hidden in the gray branches. Then he bolted.