The first serow was killed by Hotenfa's party on our third day in the temple.
There were many of them that knew the serow well, and trembled at the sight of his horns when brought too close to them.
A second time the serow appeared crossing the open tract, and the dogs, as before, close at his heels.
Although very shy and difficult to find, the serow is a fierce and dangerous brute when wounded and brought to bay.
The men assured us that there were sambur, serow, and muntjac in the neighborhood, and they agreed to hunt.
We worked hard for serow but the men were hopeless and it was impossible to "still hunt" the animals at that time of the year.
The serow was an adult male, badly scarred from fighting, and had lost one horn by falling over a cliff when he was killed.
We left camp at daylight in a heavy fog and almost at once the dogs took up a serow trail.
The serow seemed now to be quite done up, and it appeared as if his pursuers might at any moment have pulled him down.
The men brought the serow in late at night but our joy was considerably dampened by the loss of the red dog.