Ik 
time is now commencing in these lowlands, and both day 
and night are considerably hotter than when we first 
started. Dubois went out in the afternoon to hunt, but 
was unsuccessful, only getting a long shot at a waterbuck. 
August 24th. Sunday, As usual didn't move our camp, 
though rather tempted to do so, the day being cloudy and 
cool for walking. In the afternoon I strolled out with my 
gun, and shot a few specimens of the small birds in the 
neighbourhood, Swartboy carrying my rifle in case of 
seeing game. We were walking along, when the Oaffre 
suddenly stopped, and pointed to an object lying about 
thirty yards off in the grass, and declared it was a lion ; I 
thought not, but Swartboy was so decided that I took the 
rifle and fired; the object never stirred, and feeling sure 
it was no lion I went up (Swartboy still in doubt and 
unwilling to go too near) and found a dead waterbuck, 
evidently the one Dubois had fired at the day before — 
rather a ridiculous finale, and Swartboy was much chaffed 
by the other Caffres in the evening. E.'s small supply of 
raisins still holding out, so we had our welcome Sunday 
pudding, and a curry of hippo meat. 
August 25th. E. had been rather unwell in the night, 
which we laid to living too much on hippopotamus meat, 
which is extremely rich and rather indigestible ; but we 
got off about 8 o'clock, and passing another old camp 
pitched our tent where I killed the first buffalo. We 
looked out for hippopotamus in a pool where we had found 
them before, but they were not at home. While trudging 
along this morning I noticed a panther sitting on a sand- 
bank by the river, cleaning his face like a cat, and tried 
hard for a shot, but the brute slipped into the reeds before 
I could get near enough. Pound much difficulty in walking 
to-day, as my feet are still much swollen, and a fester on 
each ankle ; both of us were rather done up at the end of 
the day, so we took a good dose of quinine, and opened 
