RAMBLES IN BRITISH BECHUANALAND 41 



It was in the early part of 1890 that I first 

 cantered with two companions from Setlagoli to 

 Woodhouse Kraal, to have a look round and try for 

 a duck or two. It was a fine, clear afternoon, and 

 we headed along the sandy wagon-track at a brisk 

 pace straight for the kopje. We picked up two or 

 three koorhaan (black and white bustard, Otis afroides) 

 as we went along. These birds if anywhere near the 

 road are pretty sure, with their harsh grating call, to 

 give notice of the approach of man. They are very 

 uncertain birds ; sometimes they will crouch or run 

 only a little way, and on the approach of the gunner 

 get slowly up within fair range with their abominable 

 cackle. They are then easy victims for the gun. 

 At other times they will run along the veldt, 

 dodging behind every tussock of grass or bush 

 with exasperating persistency, to get up at last 

 well out of range. They then make a short circ- 

 ling flight, high up in the air, cackling and scold- 

 ing, so as to disturb a mile or two of veldt, and 

 go down again. Mr. J. G. Millais, in his delightful 

 book, A Breath from the Veldt, has the best and 

 most characteristic sketches of this handsome yet 

 annoying game bird that I have yet seen. For 

 some foolish and very unfair reason this bustard has 

 been exempted from the close-time for game birds 

 which has been proclaimed in Bechuanaland. 



On the day I speak of, we wasted little time over 



