138 THE LAND OF THE LION 
of Lilliput, that spread, beneath your feet, their miniature 
but inexhaustible beauty. You are in the elfin land of 
the dew, where Queen Titania still rules supreme, and Puck 
plays pranks on human fancy. 
Look well at it, and drink in its beauty. For, like life’s. 
best things, it will have vanished, before you are aware, and 
you will find yourself, an ordinary mortal, pushing your way 
under a hot sun, through obstinately tough grass, with noth- 
ing to requite you for the lost visions of the morning, but a 
pair of rapidly drying legs. 
The woods during those early hours are deliciously cool 
and fragrant. Every fern, nestling among the knees of the 
trees, or climbing and clinging, as they beautifully do, on to 
the long, mossy branches, sparkles as the dew-drops still rest 
on them. Early morning is a very quiet time, in the woods 
and on the veldt. The early twittering of the birds, which 
greeted the dawning, is soonover. ‘The frogs and crickets — 
which always make most noise, take rest, tired by the con- 
tinuous chorus of the night. Watch and ward among the 
beasts of the wild, has been kept all night long. ‘The bark- 
ing call of the bushbuck to his mate, the strange, cough- 
ing bark by which the sentinel zebra signals danger, all 
have ceased now. If you sit down, glass in hand, and watch 
the herds, you will see them feed for a little while, and then, 
choosing a safe place, lie quietly down. 
The tension of the long tropic night is over, in the day- 
light they know themselves safe. Now, and during the hour 
before dark, is the best time to study the wild things, great 
and small. 
I have seen a band of lions come sauntering along in 
single file, on their way to the reed bed by the river, when, 
till nightfall, they will make their retreat in perfect security. 
The feeding or resting herds of zebra, kongoni or Grant, 
divide slowly and casually, as it were, to let them pass. 
Neither the lions nor their prey pay much attention one ~ 
