AN UNLUCKY DAY. 163 



I picked it up he usually fell down ; however, we must 

 get home, and slowly and laboriously we proceeded. 

 I suppose if Jackson dropped his hat and fell down 

 once in the next two miles, he did it fifty times ; it 

 was really too disgusting. Presently I began to feel 

 tired, for it is no joke, after a fifteen miles' mountain 

 tramp, to have to carry a rifle, a gun broken in two, 

 three bottles of stout, oneself, and a tipsy man into 

 the bargain. With infinite labour we completed 

 another mile in this manner, until, as dusk came 

 on, I became exhausted. Here Jackson implored me 

 to leave him in the bush to go to sleep. Another 

 half-mile of falls and pickings up, and I sat down for 

 a moment's rest beside the unfortunate Jackson, who 

 instantly seized the opportunity to fall fast asleep. 

 It was now dark ; in the distance I could hear the 

 noisy barking of the curs belonging to a Kaffir 

 kraal. 



I thought of taking Jackson there, but I scarcely 

 liked the idea, for although the Kaffirs would look 

 after him till morning, he would probably be placed 

 in a hut swarming with vermin. Then I tried to wake 

 him and proceed. In vain; he muttered, "Leave 

 me to sleep," and I could do nothing with him ; he 

 would not wake. Finally I placed him under a dry 

 thick bush away from the road, and left him to follow 

 on in the morning when he had recovered ; he could 

 take no harm, and the nights were dry and not too 

 cold. Weariedly I resumed my journey, and about 

 three miles from home, the last stroke of a day of 

 evil luck overtook me. 



I had carried all day, suspended to a belt, a 

 sheathed hunting knife — one of Silver & Co.'s best 

 specimens — for the purpose of giving the coup de 



