A MAN-EATER. 147 



scared that they refused to go forward, so there was 

 nothing left for us to do, but to return to Honey vley. 

 When we got back there, I sent one of my oldest hunters 

 to tell Toto, chief of the Langberg, how I had been 

 stopped, and that I would join him in a few days. 

 In a week my messenger didn't return. This I was 

 surprised at, for he was known to be the speediest 

 runner in the tribe. Another day passed without any 

 tidings of him, so I sent some young men with their 

 guns to look for him. A short distance beyond where 

 the wagons had been stopped they found his rifle, a 

 little further on his bandolier and kaross, and after- 

 wards some of his bones. The spoor around showed 

 what had killed him, for no rain had fallen to wash 

 it out. It is not often that a lion kills a man in this 

 part of the country, although I have known an old, 

 worn-out beast, that had got too stiff to catch game, 

 or too feeble to 'jump' an ox, to take a woman or a 

 child. No, it is quite an uncommon circumstance in 

 my country, but when you go up north on the edge of 

 the desert, west from Secheley's, you look out. It is 

 only a few days since I came through that kloof, with 

 a number of my young men with me, all anxious to 



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