252 



THE HUNTER'S ARCADIA. 



Having noted these circumstances, I raised my 

 head gently over the margin of the brow to see if 

 my attendant was visible yes, there he was, just as 

 hoped for. For once a native had obeyed his in- 

 structions to the letter ; so, what between his punc- 

 tuality and the startlingly brilliant scarlet blanket 

 encircling his shoulders, I anticipated having a regular 

 red-letter day to add to my calendar of pleasant 

 reminiscences. 



Elevating the muzzle of my rifle, to which was 

 bound my pocket-handkerchief, as a signal to let 

 the Bechuana know that I had reached my perch, 

 at once the fellow commenced to dance and play 

 with the ardour of Terpsichore and the enthusiasm, 

 if not the skill, of Orpheus. 



Whatever the rock rabbits thought of the diver- 

 tissement I know not, but to me it was irresistibly 

 funny. I once heard some negro minstrels in one 

 of the Southern States sing that highly edifying and 

 thoroughly instructive melody, " Sally come up, Sally 

 come down, Sally come twist your heel around/' and 

 interlard each verse with the most comical, dexterous, 

 and violent breakdown. I considered that performance 

 fine very fine, but my darkie down below was in 



