A Breath from the Veldt i8i 



man like Wolf, who has attempted all, and what is more, succeeded in all. 

 Nil tetigit quod non ornavit. The British public cannot be said to know Wolf. 

 They do not understand his work, and have seen but little of it ; for he has 

 rarely exhibited of late years, and being a modest and charming old gentleman, 

 he is above the throng of mediocrities who are ever pushing and advertising 

 themselves, and require an art critic to discover them once in six months. 

 He still leads his quiet life in the studio by the Zoo, where I had the pleasure 

 of seeing him lately, and though of advanced age, his hand and eye have 

 lost none of their cunning. When Wolf has gone ^ there will be no one to 

 take his place in animals, though in birds we now have Mr. Thorburn. This 

 great painter of animal life will probably be well and widely known as soon 

 as he has passed away, and only the touch of his master-hand remains in the 

 homes of those who could appreciate him in his lifetime. 



How great was the admiration of Landseer himself for Wolf was told me 

 in the following little story by the late Lord Tweedmouth, in whose house 

 the two great artists were both staying and working. I must first, however, 

 inform the reader that Landseer was a firm believer in the pre-existence of 

 man in other forms. One day Wolf was busy finishing one of the superb 

 panels which grace the walls of Guisachan (Lord Tweedmouth's lovely seat 

 in Ross-shire), when Landseer and his host returned from stalking, and coming 

 up behind Wolf, who was working, stood gazing at his picture for some time 

 without making any remark. At last Wolf got a bit nervous and fidgeted 

 about. Then turning round to Landseer, on whom he was afraid the picture 

 had created an unfavourable impression : — 



" Well, Landseer," he said, " you might say something : I'm afraid you 

 don't like it." 



" Well, not exactly that," was the dry reply, " for I was just thinking that 

 before you were a man. Wolf, you must have been an osprey " (the bird at 

 which the artist was working). 



Now I have wandered a long way from my subject ; for from the sun- 

 parched wilderness of Africa to art criticism is a big trek ; but I hope the 

 reader will forgive me. It is only my admiration for Wolf, and my wish to 

 pay even a small tribute to the genius of the man — a genius which I consider 

 has been grossly neglected — that have led me so far astray. 



By the Bubye we began to see more signs of game than previously. There 

 was a sprinkling of quite fresh spoor of buflfalo, lions, sable antelope, water- 



1 Joseph Wolf died July 1899. 



