the rain that morning,
and how grandly it was fulfilled! By a God-given instinct I dropped
my haversack and your fieldglasses, and did not wait for it to
reach me, in which case it would have pecked out my eyes and struck
me with its claws, probably tearing my chest open, but sprang to
meet it. Death seemed absolutely certain, and though my nerve was
set, and, as it were, I mentally gave up my life, I met the bird
with a thud. With both hands I caught its neck before it could lift
a foot to strike; we both rolled over, and, with strength given me
at the moment, I clung to its neck until I came up, 'top dog.' But
then with full fury it began to kick, and had I received a full
blow I should have probably died, but I hugged too closely to it,
and then wriggled on to its back, so that it kicked into the air
away from me, and I only got a 'short arm' blow, and received
bruises instead of wounds.

'"Crewdson did not know whether I was alive or dead at first, but
at my shouts brought my knife; and while I was gripping its throat
with both hands so that it could not breathe at all, and rolling
about to avoid kicks, Crewdson tried to cut its gullet. This he
could not do at first, so I took the knife with my left hand,
holding the neck with my right, and dug the blade under the
uplifted wing. It took effect, and the wing seemed to lose force,
but the blade of my knife was broken, leaving half in the bird. I
threw Crewdson the knife, and he opened another blade, and managed
to cut the gullet. The thing was nearly stifled, and, feeling the
knife, it gave a last and awful struggle, and I really feared I
should be beaten; however, I also put forth a last effort, and
gradually the kicks and the struggles subsided. I loosened my grip
and let the blood flow; and when I thought it was pretty far gone,
I jumped off and joined Crewdson. Even then it made a wild attempt
to rise, but could not. Covered with dirt and blood, we plucked a
few feathers, thanked the Lord for life, and tramped to Arundel,
and arrived truly tired out.

'"The stationmaster told us that in 99 cases out of 100 the ostrich
would have killed me. He says there is not a man in the country who
would attempt to do what I did."'

So there are in South Africa not only perils of Boors, of bullets, of