82 Account of the Fish River Bush, South Africa. 



any. The yellow and green finks may be seen disporting in 

 multitudes amongst its branches, and entering every now 

 and then into their grass-woven nests, hanging from the ex- 

 treme twigs of the waving willow, over the surface of a still 

 pool of the river. Clumps of the prickly pear, with their 

 leaf-like succulent branches, studded with golden yellow 

 flowers, into the cups of which the pretty sugarbichi may be 

 seen dipping his slender subulate beak, grow here and there 

 luxuriantly, affording rich food for the wild pigs, and giving 

 the name of Vyge Kraal to a locality on the Fish River. 



The traveller through this jungle may afar witness the 

 heavy-winged vultures gathering from different quarters of the 

 sky, attracted by the carcase of an ox that has been knocked 

 up and died on the road, on which some are already eagerly 

 gorging themselves, having the eyes picked out, and they are 

 commencing at the entrails. At another quarter in the val- 

 ley, flying in circles in the air, may be seen a crowd of eager 

 longsighted aspvogels, scared from the carcase of a sheep by 

 the arrival of a troop of wild dogs to snatch up the excavated 

 remains. From that lofty time-worn krantze overhanging the 

 river, may be heard the chattering of the huge ungainly 

 baboon, especially in the evenings — the noise elevating itself 

 now and then in united chorus, or interrupted by discordant 

 shrieks, perhaps indicating the neighbourhood of the stealthy 

 tiger, or his seizure of some unlucky member of the commu- 

 nity for his evening's repast. The saw-filing cry of the guinea- 

 fowl may be heard echoing from the bushy krantze near the 

 river in the evenings, when the flock are collecting to roost. 

 The crowing concert of the black pheasants arises from the 

 bushy thickets along the Fish River here and there, as each 

 covey welcomes the rising sun, and the steaming dew. The 

 pretty notes of the michi and diedriclc further enliven the 

 growing day, and the hoopoe's voice, and the cooing of the 

 ringdove, may be distinguished from the depths of some 

 kloof or river thicket. That white smoky line advancing 

 along the undulations of the bush-covered valley like the 

 progressing margin of a grass fire, is a squadron of winged 

 locust sin line, the hindmost of which are constantly flying 

 over their comrades ahead, to take up the unconsumed vege- 



