A Breath from the Veldt 237 



here very nicely, so decided to give him the present he asked for, and go with 

 him to what he was pleased to call his game preserve. This was a toilsome 

 and weary journey. We shot little, and indeed saw no game except one troop 

 of sable, a herd of Burchell's zebra, and the dust of a giraffe ; but we had a good 

 two days of luck before we left the spruit, some details of which may not be 

 without interest to my readers. 



The morning following the chief's visit he sent that handsome scoundrel 

 Chele over to guide us to his village. Chele said that on his way over in the 

 morning he had seen a sable lying under a tree not very far away, and had left 

 another man (his companion) to watch it till the white man should come and 

 shoot. I thought this was a very funny thing for a cute antelope like a sable 

 to do, and that probably it was only an ordinary native lie. By and by, however, 

 we packed the little waggon, and Chele, Oom, and I walked on in front, on the 

 chance of a shot, and just as we emerged from a dry watercourse, two fine reed- 

 buck rams jumped up almost at our feet. Chele whispered " Thlango " (reed- 

 buck), pointing with his finger (as if we had not seen them !) and got con- 

 siderably excited. The animals were exceedingly tame or stupid, and only ran 

 about thirty-five yards and then stood and stared. The larger ram, at which I 

 fired, galloped away slowly for the bush, while the other one Oom knocked 

 over with a good shot. I mounted Brenke at once, but had not gone 200 yards 

 when I saw my buck swaying backwards and forwards under a thorn tree, and 

 evidently done for, so I finished him at once. They were both good old rams, 

 but rather disappointing as to their heads.^ 



This was at any rate a good start for the day, and put us all in good spirits ; 

 but a much better piece of luck was yet to come. Presently Chele pointed out 

 a native sitting like a black marble statue under a tree. I did not take any 

 particular notice of him, and had forgotten all about the sable bull which Chele 

 had mentioned in the morning, when the native pointed to my rifle, and then 

 to a tree about 200 yards off, exclaiming " Pallah-pallah ! " There they were, 

 beyond all doubt ; for at the same moment the sable (which I saw at a glance 

 had a splendid head) got up from beneath the tree, and began cantering lamely 

 away. Seeing that it was badly wounded, I jumped on Brenke, and in a minute 

 ran up alongside the bull and fired two shots, the second of which stopped him 

 completely. He lay down and shook his grand head at me, and endeavoured to 



1 A good Mashonaland head seldom tapes more than 12 inches, with an average span of 11 inches. Some 

 old Transvaal heads far exceed this, one I measured recently in Lord David Kennedy's collection showing 1 5 J 

 inches of horn length and good 16-inch span. 



