THE CLAIMS OF SPOET. 1G5 



voices broke the woodland silence, and by our 

 guides' movements, as well as by their con- 

 versation, I knew that game was not far off. 

 Now I admit I don't like shooting on Sunday. 

 It may be a puerile superstition — and I fear I 

 can give no very valid reason why one should 

 not as soon shoot as travel on that day — but we 

 are all of us creatures of habit and impulse, and 

 on this evening in particular I didn't wish to 

 break my rule. However, the temptation was 

 too strono- for me, and when the evenino- had 

 fairly closed in and my men had at last loaded 

 their ancient fire-arms satisfactorily, Frank 

 and Yassili took one line and Simon and I 

 another, pushing our way up hill through the 

 belt of woods, until we gained a kind of table- 

 land or ridge, where between two belts of 

 forest trees a long waving line of yellow 

 corn-fields caught the last light of the August 

 evening. 



For two evenings now no noise of men or 



