overed with blood, and once he kicked so high as to cut the
crupper. The horse became almost mad with terror, and quite
ungovernable. It was chased round and round the place, the walls being
too high to leap, and the gate having been closed. At last the horse
dashed madly into a mimosa bush, and stuck fast. The impetuous Master
followed, but, before he could back out, Hobson caught him by the throat
in his powerful grasp. He held on until Master choked. Not wishing to
kill the bird, he then let go, and Master dropped like a stone. Hobson
then galloped to the river, but Master, who recovered immediately, came
rushing on to renew the attack. Hobson, however, had found shelter and
safety behind some bushes in the bed of the stream.

Not long after our visit to David Marais, I went with Six-foot Johnny to
the territory which belonged to Blind-boy. That sagacious bird was not
so blind but that, with his one eye, he observed us coming, and met us
more than half-way. Knowing him to be, comparatively, a peaceable bird,
and being mounted, we entered the enclosure and rode towards him. From
certain symptoms and rufflings of the feathers and cockings of the tail,
however, my companion knew that Blind-boy was not as amiable as might
have been wished.

"Take care," said Johnny.

"Why?" said I.

"Because he's angry."

The signs of wrath did not appear to me very obvious, but I afterwards
came to understand that, in an ostrich, a small amount of demonstration
means an extreme depth of anger.

We rode slowly forward. Blind-boy advanced as slowly, with a dangerous
motion of the wings.

"Keep on this side of the ditch," said Johnny. "Now, then, we'd better
be off."

Before I well understood that it was advisable to get out of the bird's
way, my companion had put spurs to his horse, and was off like an arrow.
Or ever I was aware what my horse meant to do, I was almost thrown to
the ground. He whirled on his hind-legs--without orders,--and went off
like the wind. Nothing but a natural tendency to hold tight with my
knees prevented me from being left beside Blind-boy. We went at
racing-speed to the gate, and then found, on looking back, that we might
have spared ourselves the rush, for Blind-boy was standing as we left
him! The ditch had proved an impassable barrier, and he was gazing
after us in apparent wonder at our haste. My own wonder at the smart
behaviour of my horse was removed when Johnny told me that it