Notes on South African Hunting. 25 
A Visit to a King. 
would be carried out in spirit and letter unless 
one could win the love of the King’s favorite 
wife, who would write a letter to the Times 
and so save us. 
I found this idea erroneous. 
I went to call on a King with a man who 
knew the proper way to do it. We called in 
after a long day’s shooting, very dirty and 
tired, to see ‘‘ the old man.” On arriving at 
a circular mud hut, we hitched our horses on 
to a log and walked in. No one was to be 
seen, so my friend set to work to shout. Fancy 
shouting for a real live king ! Presently a 
hideous old hag, with a small freehold garden 
on her, and clothed in an old skin that a London 
bagman would pass by in disgust, came in and 
told us that the chief had been unwell all day, 
but would come out and see us. This meant 
that he had been as drunk as Chloe for a week 
past. Soon a blear-eyed, filthy, smelly^ dis¬ 
gusting, old drunkard came in, and sat down 
on the floor with a grunt. Then he asked for 
some tobacco. As we had only good tobacco, 
we said we hadn’t any. Then he asked for 
brandy; subsequently for a coat, a pair of 
