A Breath from the Veldt 175 



him ten cartridges he would supply them with game during their stay- — for 

 they were not on a hunting expedition. That he might possibly do this with 

 advantage to himself seemed likely enough, but before accepting his offer they 

 determined to see whether the man could shoot with his old Martini or not ; 

 so, putting up a good-sized mark at fifty yards, they made him take several 

 shots at it. The results were far from satisfactory. All the bullets flew wide 

 of the mark ; so the hunter was voted a fraud who wished to obtain ammunition 

 under false pretences, and was accordingly told to " vamoose." The Zulu, 

 however, protested, and promised to shoot them an inyala if some cartridges 

 were given him. So at last the Englishman, who wanted a head of one of 

 these antelopes, gave him three cartridges, believing, all the same, that he 

 would never see the Zulu again. About a week after the departure of the 

 black man there was a commotion round the camp fire one evening, and in 

 marched the Zulu, with two other natives, carrying the hides and quarters of 

 two fine inyalas which he said he had shot the evening before in the dense 

 bush some miles away. To make a long story short, the hunter was then 

 given ten more cartridges, and during the stay of my friends he brought in nine 

 beasts, including an old buffalo bull. They were much pleased and still more 

 astonished, not only at the man's honesty, but at his success as a hunter. His 

 explanation, however, was simple enough : he never fired at a beast at a distance 

 of over ten or twelve yards, and accordingly made sure of his shot every time. 

 I believe this story to be absolutely true, for the Shangan hunters whom I saw 

 afterwards told me the same thing ; they, with their miserable percussion guns, 

 never dreamed of firing at a big animal at over twenty yards. The white man, 

 however learned and experienced, could never hope to attain this success in 

 approaching wild creatures, for all the animals, as a rule, see him before he 

 sees them, so he has to content himself with what he can get at a more 

 respectful distance. It is just possible that the game, accustomed to see natives 

 moving about, may not treat them with the serious consideration and fear with 

 which they notice the white intruder. Moreover, a good black hunter can see 

 the whisk of an antelope's ear where you, or even a professional white hunter, 

 can hardly detect his whole body even when pointed out. Their quickness in 

 observing signs, too, when a beast has passed, wounded or otherwise, is simply 

 marvellous, forming one of the strongest points of interest amidst the many 

 delights of the chase. 



Oom Roelef, my dear old hunter, was, I fancy, about as good in the art of 

 spooring and veldt knowledge as any white man ever can be after a life spent in 



