its fill, and was
finally permitted to retire unmolested into its native jungle.

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Note 1. See _Narrative of a Residence in South Africa_, by Thomas
Pringle, late Secretary to the Anti-Slavery Society.

CHAPTER ELEVEN.

EXPLORATIONS AND HUNTING EXPERIENCES.

Oh, they were happy times, these first days of the infant colony, when
every man felt himself to be a real Robinson Crusoe,--with the trifling
difference of being cast on heights of the mainland, instead of an islet
of the sea, and with the pleasant addition of kindred company!

So rich and lovely was their domain that some of the facetious spirits,
in looking about for sites for future dwellings, affected a rollicking
indifference to situations that would have been prized by any nobleman
in making choice of a spot for a shooting-box.

"Come now, McTavish," said Considine, on one of their exploring
expeditions, "you are too particular. Yonder is a spot that seems to
have been made on purpose for you--a green meadow for the cattle and
sheep, when you get 'em; stones scattered here and there, of a shape
that will suit admirably for building purposes without quarrying or
dressing; a clump of mimosa-trees to shelter your cottage from winds
that may blow down the valley, and a gentle green slope to break those
that blow up; a superb acacia standing by itself on a ready-made lawn
where your front door will be, under which you may have a rustic seat
and table to retire to at eventide with Mrs McTavish and lovely young
Jessie, to smoke your pipe and sip your tea."

"Or toddy," suggested Sandy Black.

"Or toddy," assented Considine.

"Besides all this, you have the river making a graceful bend in front of
your future drawing-room windows, and a vista of the valley away to the
left, with a rocky eminence on the right, whence baboons can descend to
rob your future orchard at night, and sit chuckling at you in safety
during the day, with a grand background of wooded gorges,--or corries,
as you Scotch have it, or kloofs, according to the boers--and a noble
range of snow-clad mountains to complete the picture!"

"Not a bad description for so young a man," said McTavish, surveying the
spot with a critical eye; "quite in our poetical leader's style. You
should go over it again in his hearing, and ask him to throw it into
verse."

"No; I cannot afford to give away the valuable produce of m