ire, but could find no fuel. Just ahead a low, narrow dyke
crossed my course. I crept to this on my hands and knees, and peered
through the stones. Yes, there stood a small herd of blesbuck; they
were not more than eighty yards away. With great difficulty, for the
light was still bad and I was shaking like an aspen, I got my bead on
the largest buck. I fired; the animal sprang into the air and rolled
over. I hobbled forward to where the creature lay. It was stone dead;
shot through the heart. I pulled the carcass up to a convenient stone,
cut it open with my hunting knife and thrust my feet into its interior.
During the ensuing half-hour I think I suffered more intense physical
agony than I have ever endured in the same period of time. My feet must
have been very nearly frost-bitten, and the process of circulation
being restored was exquisitely painful. I verily believe that my life
was saved through the accident of those blesbucks being behind the dyke
and close enough for me to be able to kill one. The sun was high in the
heavens before I was able to resume my journey.

One day I came across an encampment of Boer hunters. Tired of killing
game, they were indulging in the diversion of a shooting-match. I was
cordially welcomed, and invited to join in the competition. The farmers
had brought their families with them; some dozen or so wagons had been
outspanned together, and several tents had been pitched.

Girls, some of them very pretty, dispensed coffee in kommetjes to the
competitors. The competition was arranged on very peculiar lines. The
targets were circular, and could not have measured more than about five
inches in diameter. The range was a hundred paces. Each competitor lay
on a feather-bed, which was covered with a kaross, and rested his rifle
on a pile of pillows. The price of a lootje that is to say, the fee for
entry was sixpence, and each could take as many lootjes as he liked.
The number of shots fired in each case was five, and these were fired
in succession. The prizes were sheep, sacks of meal, and small casks of
vinegar.

In spite of the smallness of the target there were but few misses.
Shots were judged to a hair's-breadth, and the judging was perfectly
fair. Strangely enough I managed to win a sack of meal and a barrel of
vinegar. As these were of no use to me, I exchanged them for fifteen
shillings and a hundred Westley Richards cartridges. My shooting caused
me to find favor in the eyes of the