GOOD-BYE SERGOIT 259 
And now you are looking on another change. A 
new mark lies on the face of the level; like a faint straw- 
coloured ribbon it winds across the veldt. It is the track 
of the Boer’s wagon. If sefari fires are lighted here and 
there on your plateau, the fresh grass will soon cover over 
the small gray circles where they burned for a night, and 
no trace of them remains. But that faint yellow line deepens 
and widens year by year. Old things for you are indeed 
passing away. You have locked on many strange old 
things, and seen them pass; things that the wisest of us 
know nothing of. Would you could tell me of the new! 
Across the thin rising vale of grass fire smoke, I now 
see your rocky crown but dimly, and for the last time. And 
so, Sergoit, true land of the lion, Kua Héri. Kua Heri. 
Good luck! Good-bye! 
