WITH ROD AND CREEL IN NATAL 



Y FRIEND B. and my- 

 self mounted our ponies 

 one glorious morning, 

 and started away at a 

 canter to ride the nine 

 miles which lay between 

 Maritzburg and Herr 



von S 's picturesque 



country bungalow. 



The bungalow was 

 situate on the banks of a 

 charming little stream in- 

 habited not only by yellow and other kinds of coarse fish 

 indigenous to South African rivers and streams, but some 

 goodly rainbow trout also, the latter having been turned 



down by Herr von S three years before our first visit 



to the stream. 



A portion of the way led through a beautiful httle 

 valley, amongst the towering, boulder-strewn kopjes. 

 Gorgeously-plumaged birds, alarmed at our sudden 

 appearance, flitted from bush to bush, chattering and 

 scolding as they went, while curious grunt-like sounds, 

 which came to our ears from amidst the huge boulders 

 of the hills, warned us that we had intruded into the 

 sanctuary of a troop of baboons. A tiny rivulet, limpid 

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