THE MARCH. 



167 



snatching up the lightest of packs, fighting to 

 avoid the heavier burdens, and rushing forward 

 regardless of what was left behind. This nuisance 

 endured till abated by an outward application 

 easily divined. I had only to hope that after a 

 march or two the scramble would subside into 

 something Kke order. At length, escorted in 

 token of honour by the consumptive Jemadar 

 and most of his company, we set out, in a strag- 

 gling Indian file, towards Tongwe. 



The track wound over stony ridges, and after 

 an hour it plunged into a dense, thorny thicket, 

 which during the rains must be impassable. The 

 evening belling of the deer and the near ' clock 

 clock ' of the partridge struck our ears pleasantly. 

 In open places lay the dry lesses of elephants, 

 and footprints retained by the last year's mud : 

 these animals, as in the Harar country, descend 

 to the plains during the rainy monsoon, and when 

 the heats set in retire to the cool hills — a regular 

 annual migration. The Baloch shoot, the wild 

 people kill them with poisoned arrows. More 

 than once during our march we found the grave- 

 like trap-pits in India called Ogi. They are wedge- 

 shaped holes 10 feet deep, artfully placed in the 

 little rises frequented by the beasts, and the size 

 must exactly fit the victim, which easily extricates 



