72 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



At Maritzburg an acquaintance had given us an old 

 pointer bitch ; she could go, and seemed never to tire 

 at hunting, but apparently, from her conduct, had not 

 the slightest idea of what standing game was, for quail 

 after quail was flushed and chased, and flushed again. 

 This we saw and laughed at it was game, veritable, 

 undisputed game, and no mistake and we both 

 chuckled when we thought of the quantity of shot we 

 had in the wagon, and other implements intended for 

 the destruction of the innocents. 



In taking an occasional survey of the cattle, and how 

 they performed, I could not help noting how carefully 

 and assiduously Umganey, the new boy, did his work as 

 f oreloper, for it is not light labour, and requires experience 

 and knowledge. Of course there is as much difference 

 in leaders to a yoke of cattle as in horses : the first 

 sometimes require almost to be hauled along ; others 

 step out so as to keep those behind them at their places, 

 and thus a taut treck-tow is obtained. If I mistake 

 not, I thought that evening that this new attache would 

 yet prove the best servant I had got. Careless, thought- 

 less Jim, when things are going on all right, is 

 a happy dog, an adept at turning somersaults and 

 making jokes, and this evening he was in his best form, 

 for he had nothing to do but amuse himself and others. 



As the sun was setting, both Morris and self pulled 

 our horses back so as to get the wagon in front and have 

 a confidential talk about the troubles we had encoun- 

 tered, and lay happy plans for the future ; so we had 

 progressed for a mile or two, when he called my atten- 

 tion to the fact that the driver had put on the brake as 

 the wagon went up-hill. Surely this could not be ; but, 

 dismounting, I examined and found that it was a fact, 



