284 



A Breath from the Veldt 



Out of curiosity, I picked up the leader ant and chucked him away. This 

 was mean, but I wanted to see what they would do. There was no confusion, 

 but the column instantly came to a halt, whilst those in the rear kept moving 

 about without leaving the ranks — anxious, no doubt, to see what was the matter. 

 In less time than it takes to tell it, another ant came out of the ranks and took 

 up the position of leader, when the army at once continued on its march. I 

 did not notice it the first time, but as I removed the pioneer four times, I saw 

 it on the second and subsequent occasions. At last I knelt down close to the 

 insects, bagged their leader, and stirred up the front ranks with a stick to see 

 what would happen then. Immediately several of the ants came out as if 

 to attack me, holding their heads in the air with their formidable nippers 

 extended, and raising their hinder parts straight up, after the fashion of the 

 beetle known in this country as the Devil's Coach-horse, an insect which most 

 of my readers will have seen. And now, having given them as much worry 

 as was good for them, I bid the army good-bye and proceeded on my journey. 



Nothing of interest occurred during our two days' trek up the river to the 

 old camp save some whirlwinds, which came within a few yards of us as we 

 were on the move. In the heat of the day, when the air all around is absolutely 

 still, these phenomena of nature are curious to witness, the winds as they swirl 

 round and round being sometimes so strong as to break the smaller twigs and 

 branches of the trees. 



On the evening of 22nd July we saw a solitary horseman on a white pony 

 advancing towards us, and recognised Teenie Landsberg, who was quite over- 

 joyed at seeing us again, as he had made up his mind that we were lost for 

 good. We of course had much to tell each other, and were presently once 

 again back in our old camp discussing koodoo marrow-bones and some of the 

 few luxuries we had left behind — a very pleasurable treat after our long tramp. 



/ ^Mr.c, 



HOW THE LJON KILLS 



