ost of
them gorged to repletion, while others were fighting for bits of the
skin. Seeing that there was nothing left for my share, I withdrew.

During the shooting trip with the Boers, I awoke before daybreak, and as
I felt very cold and not inclined to sleep, I got up, and taking my gun,
walked to a little ravine, out of which a clear murmuring stream flashed
in the moonlight and ran close past our outspan. A little distance up
this kloof the fog was dense and thick, the blue and pink streaks of the
morning light were beginning to illumine the peaks of the Draakensberg,
but all immediately around us still acknowledged the supremacy of the
pale moonlight. I wanted to see the sun rise in this lonely region, and
watch the changing effects which its arrival would produce on the
mountains and plains around.

Suddenly I heard a hoarse cough, and, on turning, saw indistinctly in
the fog a queer little old man standing near and looking at me. I
instinctively cocked my gun, as the idea of Bushmen and poisoned arrows
flashed across my mind. The old man instantly dropped on his hands,
giving another hoarse cough, that evidently told a tale of consumptive
lungs; he snatched up something beside him, which seemed to leap on his
shoulders, and then he scampered off up the ravine on all fours. Before
half this performance was completed, I had discovered my mistake, the
little old man turned into an ursine baboon, with an infant ditto, who
had come down the kloof to drink. The "old man's" cough was answered by
a dozen others, at present hidden in the fogs; soon, however,

"Uprose the sun, the mists were curl'd
Back from the solitary world
Which lay around;"

and I obtained a view of the range of mountains gilded by the morning
sun.

A large party of the old gentleman's family were sitting up the ravine,
and were evidently holding a debate as to the cause of my intrusion. I
watched them through my glass, and was much amused at their grotesque
and almost human movements. Some of the old ladies had their
olive-branches in their laps, and appeared to be "doing their hair,"
while a patriarchal-looking old fellow paced backwards and forwards with
a fussy sort of look: he was evidently on sentry, and seemed to think
himself of no small importance. This estimate of his dignity did not
appear to be universally acknowledged, as two or three young baboons sat
close behind him watching his proceedings; sometimes with the most