HUNTING IN THE SOTIK 183 



After leaving the dead rhinos we rode for several miles, 

 over a plain dotted with game, and took our lunch at 

 the foot of a big range of hills, by a rapid little brook, run- 

 ning under a fringe of shady thorns. Then we rode back 

 to camp. Lines of zebra filed past on the horizon. Os- 

 triches fled while we were yet far off. Topi, hartebeest, 

 wildebeest, and gazelle gazed at us as we rode by, the sun- 

 light throwing their shapes and colors into bold relief 

 against the parched brown grass. I had an hour to my- 

 self after reaching camp, and spent it with Lowell's "Es- 

 says." I doubt whether any man takes keener enjoyment 

 in the wilderness than he who also keenly enjoys many 

 other sides of life; just as no man can relish books more 

 than some at least of those who also love horse and rifle 

 and the winds that blow across lonely plains and through 

 the gorges of the mountains. 



Next morning a lion roared at dawn so near camp that 

 we sallied forth after him. We did not find him, but we 

 enjoyed our three hours' ride through the fresh air before 

 breakfast, with the game as usual on every hand. Some 

 of the game showed tameness, some wildness, the difference 

 being not between species and species, but between given 

 individuals of almost every species. While we were ab- 

 sent two rhinos passed close by camp, and stopped to stare 

 curiously at it; we saw them later as they trotted away, but 

 their horns were not good enough to tempt us. 



At a distance the sunlight plays pranks with the color- 

 ing of the animals. Cock ostriches always show jet black, 

 and are visible at a greater distance than any of the com- 

 mon game; the neutral tint of the hens making them far 

 less conspicuous. Both cocks and hens are very wary, 



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