EARLY MORNING ON THE VELD 109 



so brilliant were the stars that we experienced but little 

 difficulty in striking a bee-line towards the appointed 

 fixture at " Halfway House." More than once during 

 the ride across the veld the hounds got on to the line 

 of a "jack," but they were, of course, whipped off im- 

 mediately, for the business of the day was not to begin 

 until later. 



"Halfway House" being anything but a get-at-able 

 place from Johannesburg, not more than a score members 

 of the J.H.C. put in an appearance at the meet, including 

 two ladies, both of whom, before their migration to 

 South Africa, were well-known followers of the Oakley. 

 After we had made a substantial breakfast, hounds were 

 taken off to draw a large blue wattle (mimosa) plantation, 

 in which, the landlord of the hotel informed us, often 

 harboured a small herd of blesbok. By the time we were 

 in the saddle the sun was just appearing above the summits 

 of a distant range of chocolate-brown kopjes, and a 

 peculiar haze floated in the air a few feet above the sur- 

 face of the earth, while the " hanging " of the aroma of 

 our cigars, cigarettes, or pipes gave promise of good scent. 

 But then, as Tom Parker very truly declared, " Scent 

 be the trickiest thing in creation ; there's no getting to the 

 bottom of it." 



The huntsman now waves hounds into covert, and the 

 cheery cry of ' Yeaw-eup ! Push 'em up, my little 

 darlings. Yooi wind 'im ! " re-echoes through the planta- 

 tion as he cheers them on to draw. Suddenly a challenge 

 from Guardsman is taken up by the full chorus of the pack, 

 and a few minutes later the soul-moving cry, " Tally-ho ! 

 gone-away ! gone awaaay," is shrieked out by some one at 

 the far end of the covert. In almost less time than it 



