A SOUTH AFRICAN COASTER. 3 



earth. The hotel at which I put up was the resort 

 of numerous elephant hunters, who made an annual 

 visit into Zululand for skins and ivory. These gentry 

 had wonderful stories to tell of their exploits, which 

 added only fuel to the fire that was burning within 

 me. 



While gathering what information I could pick 

 up about the interior, I met two gentlemen emulated 

 by the same desires as myself, and situated in the 

 same way in respect to I argent. 



There is no harm in mentioning their names — 

 more particularly as I can assert that two better, 

 more genial, and Mark Tapley-like chums I never 

 had — for they have long joined the vast majority. 



Selwin was quiet, unassuming, and courageous ; 

 Dillon was fiery and impulsive, but generous to an 

 excess. The first would have made a model clergy- 

 man if his heart had been in his work ; the latter the 

 beau ideal of a light cavalry officer. 



With these I took counsel, and without dissent it 

 was resolved that we should break new r ground in 

 our projected shooting trip, and proceed to the north 

 of Zululand. 



A dirty, ill-found, and worn-out little top-sail 

 schooner was in Durban harbour ; her destination 

 was Delgoa Bay, and in her w r e determined to ship. 

 Her appearance did not promise well for comfort or 

 sea-going qualities ; but we argued that the passage 

 was very short, and that if she had kept afloat to 



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