A EECORD OTTER HUNT 65 



they were a lot of devils, in very truth, as I, their hunts- 

 man, was bound to confess. 



No sooner had the noble animals been released from 

 durance vile than two and a half (I stick religiously to 

 hunting technology) of the twelve and a half couple 

 (including the three-legged spaniel) started ofi across the 

 veldt on a bee-line for Johannesburg, while the Kafl&r 

 mongrel and his late companion in distress — the half- 

 bred Airedale bitch — commenced a battle royal on the 

 stoej) to decide which of them should retain possession 

 of a shoulder of blesbok that had been commandeered 

 from the breakfast-table by the former. With much 

 yelling and cracking of thongs a couple of men galloped 

 off to try and turn the fleeting deserters back. They 

 (the deserters) divided forces, however, and the gallant 

 whippers-in only succeeded in capturing the ancient 

 spaniel, which, as before mentioned, carried a hind leg 

 up by choice. No use in crying over spilt milk, or rather 

 sped curs, however, and having coupled what remained 

 of the " pack " with pieces of old riems and rope, off we 

 trotted for Sulhvan's saloon, where we found some 

 twenty fresh recruits waiting to be initiated into the 

 art of otter-hunting. 



It was now a good half -hour after the appointed time, 

 and away we all started to the river, with the exception 

 of one or two thirsty souls who remained in the bar for 

 a second or third nerve-binder, possibly fearful that the 

 excitement of the sport in hand would prove too much 

 for them. 



E 



