eir fur
draggled, their tongues lolling. They are in full cry; the giraffes hear
them and are away, rolling round the koppie like a ship in a heavy sea.
No marrow-bones after all. See! the foremost dogs are close on a buck.
He has galloped far and is outworn. One springs at his flank and misses
him. The buck gives a kind of groan, looks wildly round and sees the
waggon. He seems to hesitate a moment, then in his despair rushes up
to it, and falls exhausted among the oxen. The dogs pull up some thirty
paces away, panting and snarling. Now, boy, the gun--no, not the rifle,
the shot-gun loaded with loopers.

Bang! bang! there, my friends, two of you will never hunt buck again.
No, don't touch the buck, for he has come to us for shelter, and he
shall have it.

Ah, how beautiful is nature before man comes to spoil it!

Such a sight as this have I seen many a hundred times, and I hope to see
it again before I die.

The first real adventure that befell me on this particular journey was
with elephants, which I will relate because of its curious termination.
Just before we crossed the Orange River we came to a stretch of
forest-land some twenty miles broad. The night we entered this forest
we camped in a lovely open glade. A few yards ahead tambouki grass was
growing to the height of a man, or rather it had been; now, with the
exception of a few stalks here and there, it was crushed quite flat. It
was already dusk when we camped; but after the moon got up I walked from
the fire to see how this had happened. One glance was enough for me;
a great herd of elephants had evidently passed over the tall grass not
many hours before. The sight of their spoor rejoiced me exceedingly,
for though I had seen wild elephants, at that time I had never shot
one. Moreover, the sight of elephant spoor to the African hunter is what
"colour in the pan" is to the prospector of gold. It is by the ivory
that he lives, and to shoot it or trade it is his chief aim in life. My
resolution was soon taken. I would camp the waggons for a while in the
forest, and start on horseback after the elephants.

I communicated my decision to Indaba-zimbi and the other Kaffirs. The
latter were not loth, for your Kaffir loves hunting, which means plenty
of meat and congenial occupation, but Indaba-zimbi would express no
opinion. I saw him retire to a little fire that he had lit for himself,
and go through some mysterious performances with bones and clay mixed
with