I20 A Breath from the Veldt 



glossy starlings, and at that time the watering-places often present a very gay 

 and pretty sight. 



The Dutch hunters declare that the quay vogel is a most inveterate 

 disturber of game, and that these birds give v\ald animals due warning of the 

 approach of the hunter ; and there is every reason to believe that this is true. 

 It is habitually silent during the warmer hours of the day, but never fails to 

 utter its tiresome call when it detects the presence of man. Van Staden tells 

 me he has frequently lost chances of sport owing to the attentions of these 

 objectionable fowls. 



28M May, Saturday. — At last a little game has fallen to my lot — not much 

 to boast of, but encouraging as a start, after hunting hard but unsuccessfully 

 since leaving Marah in the Zoutpansberg, on the chance of picking up pallah, 

 koodoo or wart-hog, all of which now occur in sparing numbers. 



In the morning one of the De Mervelles killed a koodoo cow and lost a 

 bull, whilst Tace killed an old wart-hog. boar. I spent the hottest part of the 

 day in making sketches of the former, and in the evening went out with Van 

 Staden to see if we could drop across anything. In passing through some open 

 bush a steinbuck ram gave me an easy chance at about forty yards, and I 

 succeeded in striking him through the ribs rather far back. He managed, 

 however, to go a short distance, and whilst doing so a large eagle — I fancy the 

 tawny eagle, which is here common — made a beautiful stoop at him, which 

 caused the buck to squat at once, and happily prevented his disappearance 

 down an aard vark burrow on the edge of which he was lying when we got 

 up. Shortly after this we found two steinbuck ewes also, one of which Van 

 Staden killed by a very pretty shot. 



The following day I went with Tace to help him to cut up his boar, and 

 to see, if possible, the manner in which the vultures deal with a carcase as soon 

 as it is exposed. A long ride through thick bush brought us to the dead 

 beast, and having removed the branches under which it was hidden, we 

 commenced our gruesome task, the completion of which was hailed with 

 satisfaction by a host of vultures, who, after sailing around us for some time in 

 majestic circles, quietly proceeded to dinner. It was a splendid old boar with 

 fine tusks, though the points were somewhat worn with old age. " All things 

 are beautiful in nature save when the vileness of man converts them other- 

 wise ; " — so singeth the poet Whittier ; but I don't think Mr. Whittier ever 

 saw an old wart-hog lying dead, or he might have seen cause to make an 

 exception to his otherwise truthful remark. For sheer hideousness the old 



