A Shooting Trip in Northwestern Rhodesia 



"Kaffir." As I was sitting down to the meal, a 

 couple of Lichtenstein hartebeests walked out a 

 couple of hundred yards away, both of which I 

 dropped, thus furnishing plenty of meat for our 

 men and putting every one in a good humor. It 

 was just twenty-two days since I had left Waterloo 

 station, London. 



A word as to my men and outfit may be of 

 interest, although I am afraid the present-day 

 motorist would find our progress rather slow. I 

 had rented the outfit complete through an agent at 

 Livingstone, who engaged for me the men and had 

 stocked the wagon with the supplies I had chosen. 

 First, there was the wagon, a ponderous affair of 

 the old Cape pattern, capable of carrying a load 

 of three tons. This was drawn by sixteen oxen 

 yoked in pairs, the lead oxen led by a Kaffir and 

 the team driven by Finaughty's brother Harry. 

 Each ox knew his name, and would respond when 

 called on, but woe to the ox that shirked his work, 

 for he would have the double thong of the great 

 whip about his ribs at once. William Finaughty 

 and I each had two ponies for hunting, while a 

 couple of black boys as servant and cook, together 

 with four others for hunting, completed the outfit. 



The Finaughtys had been born in the country, 

 being sons of William Finaughty, one of the old- 



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