8o THE HUNTER'S ARCADIA. 



and brought up. My chum was soon ready for 

 the chase, and as he got into the saddle he repeated 

 Pringle's lines, with every word of whose writings he 

 was familiar : 



The fleet-footed ostrich over the waste 



Speeds like a horseman who travels in haste, 



Hieing away to the home of her rest, 



Where she and her mate have scooped their nest, 



Far hid from the pitiless plunderer's view, 



In the pathless depths of the parched Karroo. 



So, when he was gone sufficiently long to have 

 placed a couple of miles between us, I sent for my 

 pet mount. Well, he was a beauty. I picked him 

 up in Griqua Land West, also out of a trap, when 

 from being so low in flesh you could have hung your 

 hat on his hips. But, if you are a judge, when can 

 you see the points of a horse better than then ? He 

 had the character of being a buck-jumper, but I did 

 not mind that, so I paid my money and felt happy. 

 By this time rest and plenty of food had worked 

 wonders, and, with the exception of the second day 

 I rode him, we had no differences of opinion. This 

 submission was due to a firm seat, and more especially 

 to sensitive hands backed up by common judgment, 



