scraps of everything go in ; any kind of meat buck, 

 bird, pig, hare and if you have such luxuries as 

 onions or potatoes so much the better ; then, to 

 make the soup strong, the big bones are added 

 the old ones being fished out every day and replaced 

 by a fresh lot. When allowed to cool it sets like 

 brawn, and a hungry hunter wants nothing better. 



We had had a good feed the first night of this trip 

 and had then filled the pot up leaving it to simmer 

 as long as the fire lasted, expecting to have cold 

 pie set in jelly but without the pie-crust for early 

 breakfast next morning before going off for the day ; 

 but, to our amazement, in the morning the pot was 

 empty. There were some strange kaffirs camp 

 followers hanging on to our trail for what they could 

 pick up, and we suspected them. There was a great 

 row, but the boys denied having touched the pot, 

 and we could prove nothing. 



That night we made the fire close to our sleeping- 

 place and moved the kaffirs further away, but next 

 morning the pot was again empty cleaned and 

 polished as if it had been washed out. While we, 

 speechless with astonishment and anger, were wonder- 

 ing who the thief was and what we should do with 

 him, one of the hunting boys came up and pointed 

 to the prints of a dog's feet in the soft white 

 ashes of the dead fire. There was only one 

 word : " Snarleyow." The thief was lying 

 fast asleep comfortably curled up on 

 his master's clothes. There could 

 be no mistake about those big 



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