AT A WATER-HOLE 



We started from the camp at Kiu early one 

 morning, entered the Reserve, and made for some 

 water-holes which were supposed to be about five or 

 six miles distant. On the way I kept a very sharp 

 look-out for lion spoor, but saw none that was anything 

 like fresh, though it was evident that rhino were very 

 plentiful in the neighbourhood. 



I fixed up my flash-light apparatus so as to cover 

 the approach to the water, but there was no result 

 at all that night. Evidently, as often happens, the 

 game had abandoned the place temporarily, without 

 any apparent reason. One constantly comes across 

 the same thing on the veldt. A certain tract of country 

 will be alive with antelope for weeks at a stretch, and 

 then, though the grass still seems to be just as good, 

 nothing will come there to feed. One hears all kinds 

 of explanations suggested, yet none of them really 

 carries conviction. As an old Boer wagon-conductor 

 remarked one day, " The buck are like the niggers — 

 the white man can never learn what silly idea they Ve 

 got into their heads." 



Hearing that there was another water-hole about 

 seven miles farther on, I decided to go and ascertain 

 what its photographic possibilities might be before I 

 definitely abandoned the first place. We trekked along 

 easily. I was leading, walking, perhaps ten or fifteen 

 yards in advance of the rest of the party, which 

 consisted of a one-eyed boy who was carrying my 



123 



