58 



A Breath from the Veldt 



wings to the sunshine, the huge bird floated slowly away. Dutchmen, though 

 as a rule fine rifle-shots, are seldom at home with the shot-gun, and when 

 they can manage it, prefer to shoot at a bird on the ground rather than on 

 the wing. And now my friend, knowing my keen desire for a specimen of 

 the Stanley bustard, cheered me with the prospect of the departed bird 

 stopping in his flight before leaving the rolling hills that ended abruptly 

 some half mile away. We had not gone far indeed before I spied, if not 

 the same bird, one very like him feeding on a flat immediately in front of 

 us ; and, advancing upon him as before, I at last got my shot at about forty 

 yards, bringing him to the ground with a broken wing. In another moment 

 he was within my grasp, the feathers of his head and neck distended in so 

 strange a way as to expose the whole of the skin underneath. 



We were decidedly in luck that evening, for on descending to a flat on 

 the other side of the hills we came upon three more of these bustards standing 

 together about one hundred yards away from us. Full of locusts, they were 

 evidently composing themselves for the night, though sufficiently wakeful to 

 notice our approach even at that distance. The two hens rose at once, and 

 were presently followed by the cock. He alighted again however with his 

 wives, within the boundary of the flat. And now we set out again on a 

 circumbendibus, cruising around them at a respectful distance, and drawing 

 nearer only by slow degrees. When at last we got within shot all the birds 

 rose before I could get out of the cart. I managed, however, to jump off as 

 the cock bird crossed our " bows " at about forty yards' distance, and giving 

 him the contents of both barrels, I secured him also. 



These two old cocks were the only Stanley bustards that fell to my gun, 

 and unfortunately I had no opportunity for observing the habits of the species 

 as I wished to do. On our way home I was lucky enough to secure another 

 brace of blue khoorhans near my friend's house, which we reached at sundown, 

 highly elated with our day's sport. 



There an excellent supper awaited us, and we treated it as it deserved ; 

 consumed, too, sundry pipes of Boer tobacco, not forgetting the once-every- 

 hour cup of cofi^ee (a beverage the Dutch make to perfection) ; and then, in 

 another large room, carpeted with smoothly-laid cow-dung, I was introduced 

 to the mysteries of the Dutch dance. The figures are much the same here 

 as in Belgravia ; waltzes, schottisches, polkas and polka-mazurkas being quite 

 common. But " oh, the wild charge they made," these sprightly sons of 

 Ons-veldt, every man bent on dancing his partner to death, and — mention it 



