A MORNING AMBUSCADE ON WITTEBERG. 271 



the heights around. Occasionally, the weird, harsh 

 cry of a leopard, on his nightly prowl, could be heard 

 in the ravines below us ; and now and again the 

 churring of the goat-sucker could be distinguished 

 as the bird paused in its flight, and from some bush 

 or tree sent forth vibrating notes through the still 

 atmosphere. We had now about an hour before 

 daylight, and all, except Tobias, who kept watch, 

 dozed off. It seemed but a second or two, instead 

 of an hour, before we were nudged, and on the alert 

 again. Rubbing our eyes and looking around, we 

 could perceive, as we turned involuntarily to the 

 east (it is curious, by the way, how instinctively the 

 eye seeks the light), the faintest touch of pallor in 

 the dim blue distance over the neighbouring heights. 

 Charlie and Bob now, under Tobias's instructions, 

 take a blanket, creep cautiously behind the bushy 

 screen for seventy yards, and then cross over to the 

 other side, where they are to lie perdu till the sport 

 begins. We have noticed, previously, that the light 

 breeze, which just caresses the bushes, blows towards 

 us, thus making matters a point more in our favour. 

 Tobias, who, in matters of venary, is as keen and 

 acute as a Bushman, had previously assured himself 

 on this point, or our plans might have needed 

 alteration at the last moment. We wait impatiently, 

 for pipes are tabooed, and the light comes charily, 

 and as if begrudged, as it seems to our now 

 expectant nerves. But the buck will probably not 

 pass till the sunlight is well over the hills, so we 

 have, perforce, to smother our impatience as we may. 

 At length the dim eastern pallor spreads and 

 broadens out. Presently thin streaks of light appear, 

 and then a faint saffron tint imperceptibly creeps up. 



