iles from it. Not so,
however, the zebra, pallah, buffalo, and rhinoceros; their spoor gives
assurance that water is not far off, as they never stray any distance
from its neighbourhood. But when amidst the solemn stillness of the
woods, the singing of joyous birds falls upon the ear, it is certain that
water is close at hand.

Our men in hunting came on an immense herd of buffaloes, quietly resting
in the long dry grass, and began to blaze away furiously at the
astonished animals. In the wild excitement of the hunt, which heretofore
had been conducted with spears, some forgot to load with ball, and,
firing away vigorously with powder only, wondered for the moment that the
buffaloes did not fall. The slayer of the young elephant, having buried
his four bullets in as many buffaloes, fired three charges of No. 1 shot
he had for killing guinea-fowl. The quaint remarks and merriment after
these little adventures seemed to the listener like the pleasant prattle
of children. Mbia and Mantlanyane, however, killed one buffalo each;
both the beasts were in prime condition; the meat was like really
excellent beef, with a smack of venison. A troop of hungry, howling
hyenas also thought the savour tempting, as they hung round the camp at
night, anxious to partake of the feast. They are, fortunately, arrant
cowards, and never attack either men or beasts except they can catch them
asleep, sick, or at some other disadvantage. With a bright fire at our
feet their presence excites no uneasiness. A piece of meat hung on a
tree, high enough to make him jump to reach it, and a short spear, with
its handle firmly planted in the ground beneath, are used as a device to
induce the hyena to commit suicide by impalement.

The honey-guide is an extraordinary bird; how is it that every member of
its family has learned that all men, white or black, are fond of honey?
The instant the little fellow gets a glimpse of a man, he hastens to
greet him with the hearty invitation to come, as Mbia translated it, to a
bees' hive, and take some honey. He flies on in the proper direction,
perches on a tree, and looks back to see if you are following; then on to
another and another, until he guides you to the spot. If you do not
accept his first invitation he follows you with pressing importunities,
quite as anxious to lure the stranger to the bees' hive as other birds
are to draw him away from their own nest. Except while on the march, our
men wer