68 TALES OF A NOMAD. 



I gave him his share of luncheon and saw him depart 

 with a feeling of relief, for really nothing is so depres- 

 sing as to have a companion who is incapable of taking 

 care of himself, and for whose safety you are in a 

 measure responsible while he is with you. 



One evening he came into camp with an air of 

 triumph. Handing over his rifle to be cleaned, he 

 stalked up to the fire with both arms akimbo, as though 

 to say, " Now let nobody talk. By George, I have done 

 something to day " ! 



"What sport?" I inquired. 



"Oh, an impala." 



" Well done at last ! At what range ? " 



" Three hundred yards." 



" How did you manage it ? Tell us all about it. Your 

 rifle is only sighted for 200. What elevation did you 

 give? " 



" Oh, I required no elevation. / was standing on an 

 ant-hill." 



On another occasion he came in announcing that he had 

 fired at two lions without tails and had nearly killed them 

 both ; but on making inquiry from one of the natives who 

 accompanied him we found that they were hyaenas. 



Mataffayen accompanied me one day to show me 

 where he had left the spoor of some buffaloes on the 

 previous evening. We followed the tracks for a long 

 distance, and the spoor freshened rapidly. At last it 

 entered a long, narrow thicket in which we judged that 

 they would stand for the day. We agreed that Mataf- 

 fayen should follow on the spoor and enter the thicket, 

 and that I should post myself outside, keeping about 

 300 yards ahead of Mataffayen, as the buffaloes would 

 be nearly sure to break out and try to run up the wind. 



