GUINEA-FOWL. 217 



tainly not so Chummy and self argued for there it 

 was, of a certainty ; but, before we had half completed 

 our descent to its shores, what a miserable deception 

 we found had been practised upon us, for we had 

 gazed upon the now hateful vley through the decep- 

 tive influences of a mirage. Not a drop of water 

 was in it ; a crust of salt covered it from end to end ; 

 it was a fraud, and that of the basest kind. Never- 

 theless, the surroundings of this salt-pan were re- 

 markably beautiful, and reminded me much of the 

 picturesque bluffs to be found on the upper waters of 

 the Mississippi, U.S. ; but along the vley's margin, 

 just where the soil joined the sand that framed in the 

 earth deposit, was a thick fringe of lovely mimosa 

 trees, now doubly beautiful from their dense cover- 

 ing of fragrant yellow blossoms. 



Detached parties of guinea-fowl were hurrying 

 across the open to the shelter of this grove. So 

 numerous were these game birds that I can safely 

 assert that many hundreds of them were in sight at 

 one time, so Chummy took his shot gun and hurried 

 off in their pursuit, with the hope of sport and add- 

 ing materially to our food supply. 



Soon after I heard many rapid shots, so concluded 

 that "spatch cock" would probably form no incon- 

 siderable part of the anxiously anticipated breakfast, 

 as for the last day or two meals had been hurried 

 and far from satisfactorily cooked. I can get on 

 well enough upon rough fare ; but that is no reason 



