A Day on the German Boundary 



more than one leg in the air at one time, rolling 

 all the while like a rocking-horse in a south-east 

 gale, and still with a very aristocratic "don't 

 worry me" gait. They came quite close to my 

 position, to within some forty yards or so, when 

 suddenly up we stood ; they did not seem to 

 bother themselves in the slightest, and, except for 

 changing direction in a flash like a polo pony, 

 still kept on at the same speed, lolloping over the 

 ground in the easiest manner. On examining 

 their tracks, however, they were quite half as long 

 again as a sixteen-hand horse at full gallop. I 

 didn't want one, so I didn't shoot, and they went 

 off moderately happy, I presume. 



That brought us near camp, or rather near our 

 feeding-place, as we had previously made up our 

 minds to return to the flesh-pots of last night 

 instead of camping out. I am sorry, but I cannot 

 understand the excitement of camping out down 

 the Thames or anywhere else, and making one- 

 self thoroughly uncomfortable for one night, or 

 even a week, when one has got a more or less 

 decent house to live in. Most picnics are pretty 

 bad, unless one's best girl is there to amuse one ! 

 I suppose five years of discomfort in that line, 

 hot or cold, wet or fine, teaches one that a cheery 

 fireside with no scorpions or other noxious insects 

 to invade one's bedclothes, and no minor worries 

 of any kind, is the best thing after all is said and 

 done. 



Q 241 



