FLAT GAME AND SMALL GAME. IO/ 



I was staying at an up-country farm. My host in- 

 formed me that the Caffres had marked down some 

 porcupines in an earth not more than ten minutes' walk 

 from the house, and he proposed that after dinner we 

 should go out with lanterns and assist in killing them. 

 I was only too glad of the opportunity, never having 

 seen this kind of sport before. We set off armed with 

 pitchforks. The Caffres took their assegais and were 

 accompanied by dogs accustomed to porcupine hunt- 

 ing. 



On arriving at the earths the dogs at once took up 

 the tracks of the porcupines, and rushed away into the 

 darkness at full cry. We followed as fast as we could. 

 We soon heard them giving tongue in a potato patch, 

 and made our way there with all speed. There was a 

 young moon, but the light was so indistinct that objects 

 were not clearly visible. 



There was a noise of barking and worrying, varied by 

 an occasional yelp from one of the dogs. 



As we approached I saw the dogs jumping about and 

 heard the grunting note of a porcupine and the silvery 

 rattle of his quills as he shook them and rushed about 

 amidst the dogs, but which was dog and which was 

 porcupine I couldn't exactly make out. 



Some of the Caffres had already arrived, and were 

 delivering thrusts with assegais and blows with sticks 

 here and there in the midst of the m'etie. < . j 



Being anxious to distinguish myself, I dashed in 

 flourishing my pitchfork with a sort of do or die air, but 

 sprang back again in a hurry, as the porcupine made 

 a rush in the direction of my legs. 



I caught a glimpse of him, at least, I thought I did, 

 and so did we all, and we went for him. Coming to 



