A SPIN AFTER A GIRAFFE. 289 



having so much taken out of him, and the longer 

 his return was delayed, the stronger were my re- 

 grets. 



At length the sun went down, and at length 

 the sun rose, mid-day arrived, in due time sunset, 

 and only then could I understand, or bring myself 

 to believe, that the confounded Tottie had stolen 

 my nag, the new blanket that had been strapped 

 so tightly under the surcingle, and my handsome 

 silver-mounted jambok. 



If we, my Yorkshire friend and self, had used 

 a cutting switch instead of spurs we might neither 

 have been thrown ; the punishment inflicted with 

 the former Poker evidently was used to and dreaded, 

 for possibly he was bred among niggers, who, like 

 the Boers, seldom or never make use of a spur. 



One would have thought that I had seen the 

 last of Poker ; not so. When riding through some 

 heavy timber, near the Seribi river, not above thirty 

 miles from Tatin, I came across seven giraffes. I 

 singled out from among them a splendid cow with 

 a calf at her heels, about ten feet high, and pushed 

 them at my horse's best pace. At the time I was 

 mounted on the very flower of my stud, an animal 

 that could gallop. At first I rapidly gained upon 

 the game, but afterwards, getting into a dense scrub, 

 I began to lose ground. However, I dare not 

 slacken my pace, for that meant losing the meat I 

 had set my heart upon ; so hoped for smoother rid- 



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