--Game in the Low Country--The Barber encampment--Lion's attack by
daylight--Lions in the donga--The lion's voice--Ways of the lion--The lion
an eater of carrion--Tyrer and the buffalo--Veld fires--A piece of bad
luck--The Low Country rivers--Snakes--Hyenas--Louren Marques--Funeral of
Pat Foote--Discovery of gold near Blyde River--Anticipated affluence
Disappointment

I am here met by the difficulty that many of my exploring, hunting, and
prospecting adventures during the years 1874 and 1875 have been
described in one or other of my published works, either as stated fact
or fact disguised as fiction. Nevertheless, I will endeavor to recall a
few as yet unrecorded reminiscences of adventure by flood and field
during that period.

In June, 1874, I joined an expedition to Delagoa Bay, which was
organized by President Burgers for the purpose of convoying ammunition
and other war materials to Pretoria. An attack upon Sekukuni, the
Baphedi chief, had been decided on. This, however, was not attempted
until nearly two years had elapsed. The undertaking was a difficult
one, and involved some interesting experiences, but as I have already
published an account of it under the title of "A Forgotten Expedition,"
[In "By Veld and Kopje."] I cannot deal with the episode here, in
detail.

Quite recently I came across a reminiscence of this trip in an
unexpected quarter. In his "Recollections" Mr. David Christie Murray
relates how, when dining at the Hotel Misseri, in Constantinople, at
the time of the Russo Turkish War, he witnessed a meeting between a
French officer, Captain Tiburce Morisot, and Archibald Campbell
afterwards known as "Schipka" Campbell. These men recognized each other
as having met in South Africa, the occasion being a visit of Campbell
to Morisot's camp, and the roasting of a giraffe's heart at the
camp-fire.

I happened to be present at the occurrence evidently referred to; the
episode took place on the very expedition which I mentioned above. But
the detail as given to Mr. Murray is quite wrong. The party was not
composed of "Frenchmen cutting a military road," nor was Morisot in
charge of it. He was, as a matter of fact, merely one of the gang, the
same as I was. We were on convoy duty near the Komati River. It was a
marrow-bone and not the heart that was roasted. I have a very clear
recollection of the incident. The skin of the giraffe was the largest I
have ever seen; it had been found necessary to cut it i