70 FORT WILTSHIRE. 



formed brim, throwing a dark shadow over his dusky 

 visage ; his deeply- sunken eyes, his high cheek-bones, 

 his mustache large and black ; then his dress — his 

 trowsers tucked up to the knee, showing bare legs 

 that defied thorns ; one shoulder-belt, from which the 

 pouch and powder-horn were suspended, and another 

 supporting his hatchet for cutting out the tusks, and 

 his bag for holding the wild honey. His jacket, too, 

 of many-coloured patches, ' that seemed to show 

 variety of wretchedness ;' here, however, it was but 

 seeming, for Skipper was one of the boldest and 

 most successful shooters in the country ; but his gains, 

 while these lasted, went only to keep the canteen in 

 a roar, for he never could be persuaded to purchase 

 cattle or acquire property. Methinks I see the ex- 

 traordinary old man now before me, coolly shaking 

 the ashes from his large pipe, while the elephants are 

 feeding within a dozen yards of him. I asked him 

 how many wild beasts he had shot in his life : his 

 list I cannot accurately remember ; but there were, 

 I think, two rhinoceroses, one lion — when all his 

 companions fled — I know not how many elephants, 

 tigers, wolves, &c. ; but it finished with two Caffers ; 

 for Skipper was not a man of nice distinction. ' I 

 think, Skipper,* said I, '.you would smoke if you 

 were between the tusks of the elephant?' 'No, 

 Sir,' he replied, without the slightest change of 

 countenance, apparently taking my speech literally, 

 * for he would smell me.' " 



We reached Fort Wiltshire late in the evening 



