184 



A Breath from the Veldt 



the slip, as we were far too many in company, and the Basadanotes were 

 evidently trying to make use of us. After some months of slow and weary 

 travelling we had really seen very little game, but at last came daily increasing 

 signs of all the bigger game ; we hoped, therefore, to obtain at least a sight 

 of some of them. 



Crossing the sandy bed of the Bubye on the morning of 19th June, we 

 entered the great forest Thirstland, which lies between that river and the 

 Nuanetsi, or Manitze, as it is sometimes called. In this expanse of some 

 hundred square miles there is but one water-hole on the old hunters' trail, 

 Elands Fontein they call it, since so many elands congregated there a few 

 years ago. To this water it is a day and a half's hard trekking from the 

 Bubye, and we saw nothing on the way but a couple of splendid cock ostriches, 

 which one of the Basadanotes admitted he had a good chance at, but failed 

 to score. The male ostrich looks very showy and imposing when he first 

 starts to run, the beautiful white feathers on his wings and wing coverts being 

 raised and spread out as I have endeavoured to represent in one of the small 

 Karroo sketches. 



Elands Fontein itself is but another of the usual Afric's sunny mud-holes, 

 the water being quite undrinkable, except when made into strong tea, and even 

 then it had a sickly, nauseous taste that remained on the palate for some time. 



\()th June (Elands Fontein). — The Dutchmen, grievously disappointed at 

 getting no game by the Bubye, say that if the game has trekked from Nuanetsi 

 they will return home. Personally I shall be very glad if they do, as one gets 

 awfully sick of their eternal whining, and I can go on with Oom Roelef into 

 the " fly," where we are bound to find game sooner or later. And now came 

 another disturbing element that none of us had reckoned on. Petrus returned 

 to-day and reported that whilst out hunting he had encountered a native who 

 was evidently a Matabele slave, and who told him he had been sent by his 

 master to turn us back, and that the Matabele intended to kill every white man 

 in their hunting veldt this winter. 



This made things assume a more serious aspect in the minds of the 

 Dutchmen. They considered that when troubles were brewing it would not 

 do to leave the old lady and girls with such poor protection ; so three days 

 later— when we got to the Nuanetsi — Hert and Petrus returned to Gong, and 

 we saw no more of them for some months. 



I could not help thinking, about this time, what a lot of delightful fallacies 

 the Englishman of romantic ideas conjures up about Africa as he sits comfortably 



