elightfully exhilarating, and we know that we shall not have
to complain of the cold long. By degrees the sun makes itself felt, and
we discard first one wrap and then another, till by ten o'clock even
light overcoats are not required. And now it is time to "off-saddle" and
breakfast. The carriers straggle in more or less in the order they left,
but they gladly "dump" down their loads, and before many minutes the
fire is burning and the breakfast frizzling. After breakfast comes the
midday rest of two or three hours, beguiled by some ancient newspapers
or some dust-begrimed book. It is remarkable that, when far away from
home, the date of a newspaper is of little import, while none are voted
dull, and one finds oneself reading the most obscure publications, and
vaguely wondering how or why they reached this distant land. At two
o'clock marching orders come again. This is the hot trek, but there is
generally a cool breeze to temper the fierce rays of the winter's sun;
and when that sun gets low down on to the horizon, and becomes a crimson
ball, tingeing the world with its rosy hue, we look about for our
evening resting-place. During our journey to Kalomo, as well as on our
southward route a month later, we enjoyed the light of a glorious moon,
whose assistance to the traveller cannot be exaggerated when the short
twilight is remembered. By the moon we frequently made our camp, by the
moon we dined. Those were never-to-be-forgotten evenings, spent on that
lonely veldt all bathed in silver light. We also had excitements--much
lions' spoor on the roads by day, many scares of lions round the camps
by night, when the danger is that the horses may be taken while the camp
is asleep. Every evening our animals were put into a "skerm," or high
palisade, constructed of branches by the ubiquitous carriers with
marvellous rapidity.

One dark night before the moon had risen, just as we had finished dinner
and were sitting round the fire listening to thrilling stories of sport
and adventure, a terrific noise suddenly disturbed our peaceful
circle--a noise which proceeded from a dark mass of thick bush not 200
yards away, and recalled one's childish recollections of "feeding-time"
at the Zoo. Not one, but five or six lions, might have been thus near to
us from the volume of growls and snarls, varied by short deep grunts,
which broke the intense stillness of the night in this weird fashion.
Each man rushed for his rifle, but it was too d