4552 Tue ZooLocist—Aveust, 1875. 
kraals round us, to assemble their men the next day. After an 
early breakfast we took our guns and started for the woods, followed 
by a boy carrying ammunition, as we wished to arrive on the ground 
‘before the rest of the party. After wading the river, which we felt 
unpleasantly cold at such an early hour, we tramped for some dis- 
tance through the long grass and reeds. At last we reached our 
destination, and sat down on a fallen log to wait for our companions. 
It was a beautiful spot: in the deep green forest Convolvuli and 
other flowering creepers had formed themselves into fantastic arches 
more lovely than art could fabricate. The silence of this secluded 
retreat is broken by the notes of many birds, some of which well 
merit the name of songsters: the cry of the partridge issues from 
the scrub, and we particularly distinguish that of the lourie, horn- 
bill and trogon, whilst the rocks overhead resound with the bark 
of baboons and the cries of crows, starlings and hawks, which 
nest in the crevices. Monkeys may also be heard chattering in the 
distance, making an agreeable chorus. All the gentlemen having 
arrived, we each chose a good position, and impatiently awaited 
the Kafirs. We soon heard them chanting their wild hunting 
song on the hill opposite, which, mingled with the barking of dogs, 
grew louder every moment. Now the sport began in earnest: 
the natives—armed with assagais, or spears, and knobbed sticks— 
formed themselves in a long line, and the dogs were let loose into 
the bush to rouse up the game. The dogs are a species of mongrel 
hound who, having little scent, hunt by sight. Small bucks started 
up on all sides, numbers of which were easily knocked over or 
caught in the fangs of the dogs. It was now our chance who were 
stationed ahead, and our barrels were soon emptied upon the flying 
quadrupeds. The excitement was intense as we heard the rustling of 
some larger animal, and a full-grown male bush-buck burst through 
the thicket, breaking down everything before him. The natives 
had already caught sight of him, and the dogs were close upon his 
heels, so that it was dangerous to discharge our guns: one of 
our party, however, imprudently fired, killing a dog and slightly 
wounding a Kafir in the leg. Now came the stampede of white 
men, Kafirs and dogs, the unclothed natives having the advantage, 
the “ vach-an-bechie” or “ wait-a-bit” thorns terribly retarding our 
progress. The shouts of the natives soon informed us that the 
antelope was down, and on emerging into an open space, we saw 
them assembled around him: having been struck by a spear in the 
