AFTER SAMBUR 95 



so all our meat of the old hind we had killed went to 

 them ; the consequence was, when we went down to the 

 valley (the Orange Valley, so called from the quantities 

 of oranges that grow), many pretty little black-eyed girls 

 and boys, all stark naked, rushed out to meet us, and we 

 found an array of men ready to beat. Away we went 

 to beat a rocky hill, and I was posted, commanding a 

 capital pass. One was a ledge down the side of a 

 precipice opposite me, and the other was to my left. 

 Hardly had the beaters commenced when I saw a stag 

 come trotting out down the left-hand pass ; he was a 

 young gentleman. However, I wanted to get him, but the 

 fates still were unkind ; he turned off the run and passed 

 me about as far as the cottage bridge (200 yards). 

 I fired ! thud went the ball ; he staggered but recovered 

 himself, and away he went ; and to make it short, I never 

 got him. Loaded quietly and watched from my tuft 

 of grass like an old tiger. I expected my shot would 

 have caused any other deer that might have been in it 

 to shun my pass and take the one Brine commanded, 

 so was surprised to see a fine young stag creeping down 

 the ledge on the face of the precipice and coming 

 towards me ; down he came, cleared the waterfall with 

 one bound, and the next moment the tip of his antlers 

 appeared below me. I judged my distance and fired. 

 The stag reared in the air and fell dead with a heavy 

 crash into his very tracks far below. It was a grand 

 sight. The stag was a full-grown but young deer ; his 

 antlers small. Beat all day ; the sun very hot ; I could 

 hardly stand in one place, my feet were so scalded. 

 The next day we got some natives from the small 

 wigwam village to carry our two tents and traps, and 

 repaired on foot across the sweet, fresh mountains to 

 our new ground. Scenery grand. Our first sight of 

 the promised land I shall never forget ; the wildness 



