THE LAST FRONTIER 



across the hills in the direction of camp, many miles 

 distant, each carrying his load either of meat, or the 

 trophies. Rhinoceros hide, properly treated, becomes 

 as transparent as amber, and so from it can be 

 made many very beautiful souvenirs, such as bowls, 

 trays, paper knives, table tops, whips, canes, and 

 the like. And, of course, the feet of one's first 

 rhino are always saved for cigar boxes or inkstands. 



Already we had an admiring and impatient au- 

 dience. From all directions came the carrion birds. 

 They circled far up in the heavens; they shot down- 

 ward like plummets from a great height with an 

 inspiring roar of wings; they stood thick in a solemn 

 circle all around the scene of the kill; they rose with 

 a heavy flapping when we moved in their direction. 

 Skulking forms flashed in the grass, and occasionally 

 the pointed ears of a jackal would rise inquiringly.' 



It was by now nearly noon. The sun shone clear 

 and hot; the heat shimmer rose in clouds from the 

 brown surface of the hills. In all directions we could 

 make out small gameherds resting motionless in the 

 heat of the day, the mirage throwing them into fan- 

 tastic shapes. While the final disposition was being 

 made of the defunct rhinoceros I wandered over the 

 edge of the hill to see what I could see, and fairly 

 blundered on a herd of oryx at about a hundred and 

 fifty yards range. They looked at me a startled 



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