290 A Breath from the Veldt 



and feathers, that hateful little African beetle having got in and completely 

 ruined my collection. Only one single bird (a female Vaal khoorhan) held 

 together as I picked up the various specimens. 



All who had been left behind in the camp spoke of the number of lions 

 that had lately been frequenting this part of the river, and the disturbance they 

 created at night by their moans and grunts ; and we had not to wait long for 

 confirmation of their report. It was about eleven o'clock on the first night of 

 our return, when from a point far away down the river came the sound of a 

 troop of lions moving in our direction. The combined roars were emitted at 

 intervals of every two minutes, and as they advanced up the sandy bed of the 

 river their voices grew louder and louder, culminating at last as they came 

 within a hundred yards of us in the most savage and awe-inspiring volume of 

 sound one could possibly imagine. It is quite true, as Selous says, you may 

 hear lions every night for a month and yet never hear them once roar properly, 

 and that is why so many travellers have unjustly depreciated the voice of this 

 animal. The fact is, they have never heard lions doing their best in concert, or 

 they would not speak so lightly of the grandest and most impressive sound in 

 creation. 



Being anxious to obtain a good bushbuck ram, several of which Piet had 

 seen at a point about a mile down the river, I determined to devote a day to 

 hunting for them. When Piet saw them they always ran down a certain dry 

 sluit and disappeared into the high grass and reeds fringing the banks of the 

 river ; we therefore concluded they would be hiding there during the day. A 

 nice cool breeze was blowing up the river as we all started the following morn- 

 ing, so I decided to take Ofiice and Gentleman with me, and if possible to fire 

 the reeds. As we were walking along the high bank, at a point where the 

 cover below us was fairly open, a bushbuck ram suddenly sprang up and made 

 its way at considerable speed through the tangled undergrowth. Every one had 

 a shot at him, and all missed except Tace, who withheld his fire to the last. 

 By a lucky and somewhat fluky shot he broke one of the buck's hind legs, on 

 which the animal stopped, and was bagged without much difRculty. Elated 

 at finding so early in the day the game we wished for, we went on for another 

 half mile down the river, when Piet and Tace crossed to the farther bank, 

 whilst the old man and I kept at intervals of from one to two hundred yards in 

 front of the Kaffir boys who had set fire to the reeds on both sides of the river. 

 Everything seemed to go swimmingly, but not another bushbuck did we see 

 that day. The wind kept steady till the afternoon, and more than a mile of 



