r so with perhaps but one or two charges, and would rarely fail in
bringing home the kind of game wanted--either a springbock, blesbock, or
wildebeest (gnu). In hunting lions, the lads would form part of the
company for the purpose of being taught. The boys would learn that if a
lion meant to attack he would approach to within twenty or thirty
yards, and then straighten himself up before making the final charge. It
was during that short halt that the disabling or killing shot would have
to be delivered. Father and son would then be standing ready--the son to
fire first; if unsuccessful, the animal would be brought down by the
father. If there were a larger party and the lions numerous, the lessons
would be learnt so much better by way of emulation. The boys soon
realized that a lion, means business only when he advances silently and
with smoothed gait, but that bristling up and roaring is a sure prelude
to his skulking off. What we read of the terror-inspiring roar is to the
Boer stripling pure romance and non-sense; but what he does realize is
that he must hit the animal in a vital spot at the right moment or else
run the risk of being clawed and bitten. The confidence, however, which
he has in his gun gives him all the requisite nerve, and mishaps are of
very rare occurrence. Those lion hunts used to be very profitable, not
only for the valuable skins, but especially when a number of young cubs
were also caught, which would realize considerably high prices from
menagerie purveyors.

At the age of about eight years a boy would be taught to ride on
horseback; when twelve years old he would be an expert horseman and a
deadly rifle shot as well; at sixteen he would be able to perform all
farm duties and rank with pride and confidence as an efficient burgher
to take the field against any enemy. His brain is not addled with school
lore, but is thoroughly versed and taught from nature's book. Hardened
to the fatigue of long rides over unfamiliar country in search of stray
cattle, the Boer youth has often to subsist upon a bit of dried biltong
(junked beef or venison), endure at intervals scorching heat and
drenching rains, swim rivers, and pass the night with a stone for a
pillow and his saddle as the only shelter, while his horse, securely
hobbled, feeds upon the grass around. Never will he lose his way; if
landmarks fail him and clouds hide moon and stars, he is guided by wind,
the run of water or his horse's instincts. Acc