ADVENTURES BY THE WAY 



A little farther on, and up a dry earthy side hill, 

 a medium-sized beast leaped from an eroded place 

 fairly under my feet and made off with a singularly 

 familiar kiyi. It was a strange-looking animal, ap- 

 parently brick red in colour. When I had collected 

 myself I saw it was a wild dog. It had been asleep 

 in a warm hollow of red clay, and had not awakened 

 until I was fairly upon it. We had heard these 

 beasts nearly every night, but this was the first we 

 had seen. Some days later we came upon the 

 entire pack drinking at the river. They leaped 

 suddenly across our front eighty yards away, their 

 heads all turned toward us truculently, barking at 

 us like so many watch dogs. They made off, but 

 not as though particularly alarmed. 



One afternoon I had wounded a good warthog 

 across the river; and had gone downstream to find 

 a dry way over. F., more enthusiastic, had plunged 

 in, and promptly attacked the warthog. He was 

 armed with the English service revolver shooting 

 the .455 Ely cartridge. It is a very short stubby 

 bit of ammunition. I had often cast doubt on its 

 driving power as compared to the .45 Colt, for 

 example. F., as a loyal Englishman, had, of course, 

 defended his army's weapon. When I reached the 

 centre of disturbance I found that F. had emptied 



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