260 THE GREAT THIRST LAND. 



within sight of us in one direction or another, and I 

 have not pulled a trigger upon them. As if by common 

 consent, my travelling - companion does the shooting, 

 and I eat of the results of his prowess. As a rule there 

 are no class of people more jealous of each other than 

 sportsmen. It may be perhaps because I have killed 

 such quantities of game, in nearly every part of the 

 world, that my ardour has cooled ; but whether on a 

 Scotch grouse moor or deer forest, an American prairie 

 or African velt, I would sooner far see another do the 

 shooting than do it myself. Yet I love to look on 

 and see good work done in a proper sportsman-like 

 manner. 



Where we are now is the centre of Grordon 

 Cumming's huntiDg-ground. Elephants and buffaloes 

 have become scarce since then in this locality; but 

 there is still enough of other varieties of game to satisfy 

 any but the most bloodthirsty. I wonder if his ghost 

 now wanders about here in company with the spirits- 

 of the game he slew ! 



About eleven o'clock we crossed a small stream with 

 very steep banks ; then, following the course of the road, 

 turned off to the eastward, trecked on for about a mile, 

 and halted in the middle of a fine open outspanning- 

 place on the margin of the Limpopo. Two strongly- 

 built, high, and massive kraals stood close by, ominous 

 indications that the lord of the forest was fond of the 

 neighbourhood. Small blame to him, I say, for selecting 

 so pretty a locality. 



While outspanning, up came another wagon; the 

 young trader knew its inmates, and accordingly in- 

 troduced me. They were a Boer family travelling to a 

 distant settlement, and consisted of a young husband, 



