232 A Breath from the Veldt 



looking thoroughly " gamy " for elands and roan antelopes. The natives said 

 there were a good many of these antelopes always here. The former they called 

 " Puh," and the latter " Clabacalela " — rather a pretty name. There were also 

 a few troops of sable, which they called " Pallah-pallah," and an odd reed-buck 

 near the spruits. By evening- we reached a long spruit of beautiful water stand- 

 ing in a channel in a great reed bed. As the place looked very " reed-bucky," 

 the old man and I went for a toddle round, to see if we could pick up some- 

 thing for supper, taking Brenke with, us in case we saw anything worth a run. 

 After travelling down this spruit some way, my companion spotted a roan cow 

 coming up from the water, and as the country was favourable for a stalk, we 

 took Brenke as far as we dared, and then crept through the grass, and got within 

 good shooting distance, as we thought. To our delight, on looking up there 

 was a good herd of seven cows. Whether the wind had changed at the 

 wrong moment I know not, but there they were slowly moving away, and I 

 took the best shot I could, or rather two shots, standing in the long grass. 

 Even these big bucks, when on the move, are not easy to shoot ; so, though 

 somewhat disappointed, I was not the least surprised to see the last disappear 

 without a falter over a rise in the sky-line. 



As the animals frequently stood to look back, Oom considered they were 

 beasts that had not been shot at, and would consequently stop before they had 

 gone far. I took Brenke, therefore, and we shortly afterwards started on the 

 spoor. The old hunter was correct as usual. By and by we got well within 

 range again before they began to move off, and this time my companion fired 

 and hit the last cow somewhat low, upon which she immediately left the rest 

 and went off by herself Leaving him to follow her, I jumped on Brenke and 

 started off in hot pursuit of the troop. The roans, now alarmed, strung out in 

 Indian file and galloped away before me, and I put Brenke to his best, which 

 was, however, nothing remarkable at any time. Brenke was a good, rough, 

 hardy pony about 14.3, and though plucky and willing to the last degree, he 

 was not up to my weight when it came to a long run, and I had to nurse him 

 a good deal over the rough bits and deep sluits, where one could not see what 

 was beneath. Over these bad places the roans walked away with their easy 

 lumbering gallop, but on the open flats Brenke made the better progress. 



As the country was open, the pace was pretty good for the first two miles, 

 for I wished to see if the roans could be run to a standstill. Keeping about 

 seventy yards in the rear, I could see and watch their movements well, and after 

 three miles were over, I noticed that their necks began to drop a bit and their 



