splayed footprints, and in about two minutes Snar- 

 leyow was getting a first-class hammering, with his 

 head tied inside the three-legged pot for a lesson. 



After that he was kept tied up at night ; but 

 Snarleyow was past curing. We had practically 

 nothing to eat but what we shot, and nothing to drink 

 but bush tea that is, tea made from a certain wild 

 shrub with a very strong scent ; it is not nice, but 

 you drink it when you cannot get anything else. 

 We could not afford luxuries then, but two days 

 before Ted's birthday he sent a runner off to Komati 

 Drift and bought a small tin of ground coffee and a 

 tin of condensed milk for his birthday treat. It was 

 to be a real feast that day, so he cut the top off the 

 tin instead of punching two holes and blowing the 

 milk out, as we usually did in order to economise 

 and keep out the dust and insects. What we could 

 not use in the coffee that day we were going to spread 

 on our * doughboys ' instead of butter and jam. It 

 was to be a real feast ! 



The five of us sat down in a circle and began on 

 our hunter's pot, saving the good things for the last. 

 While we were still busy on the stew, there came a 

 pathetic heartbreaking yowl from Snarleyow, and 

 we looked round just in time to see him, his tail tucked 

 between his legs and his head high in the air, bolting 

 off into the bush as hard as he could lay legs to the 

 ground, with the milk tin stuck firmly on to his nose. 

 The greedy thief in trying to get the last scrap out had 

 dug his nose and top jaw too far in, and the jagged edges 

 of the tin had gripped him ; and the last we saw of 

 81 F 



