tabata
s'incwade, musi inglovu," (this would be broken Kaffir for "Take this
letter to Pietermaritzburg, wait for an answer, and come back")--_only
fifty-three miles_! In about ten minutes this Kaffir would be seen
going off with a little skin-bag filled with corn, the letter carefully
inserted in a split stick, whilst he occasionally worked his arms about
in all the pleasant imaginary castle-building of knocking over enemies
or wild beasts. In three days he would come back, with the single
remark, "_Fikile_" (arrived), and deliver the answer to the note.

After starting the Kaffirs to their lookout stations, I could
comfortably take my breakfast, do any business that was required, and
then mount my horse and canter out to the ground that might have been
selected for that particular day's sport. Then riding through the long
grass, and beating up the ravines, the antelope would soon be bounding
away in all directions. Now came the sport. The grass being nearly
five feet long, it was necessary to fire from the saddle, and it was
very pretty to see the shooting-pony, with an instinct almost equal to
reason, following the dog in every turn, and doing so without a touch of
the reins, standing also like a rock when a buck sprang up. Away the
antelope would rush, making (if an ourebi) perpendicular leaps of at
least two yards in the air, and then scouring over the plain. But a
quick messenger would soon be after him, and the sound of the bullet
striking would be frequently the only indication of a successful aim.
The buck might drop-dead if struck in the neck, the shoulder, or the
kidneys; if in other parts, he frequently galloped off with a doubled-up
and cramped action. The hitherto quiet dog would then come out in a new
character, and give chase to the buck, while the pony would have to do
his best to live with the two. A mile or so would decide the thing.
Upon the buck being vanquished, no trouble was then taken in cleaning
him; the pony is off-saddled,--immediately takes a roll, and commences
grazing, while dog and man look out for the nearest stream of water to
obtain a drink and to cool themselves from the effects of the burning
sun.

In about half an hour one of my Kaffirs would be seen jogging over a
hill, and making his way straight down to the dead antelope. He cleans
it, and, if it is too heavy for him to carry alone, seeks for aid in the
nearest kraal, distant sometimes three or four miles; by signalli