THROUGH THE PLEISTOCENE 
25 
the mountains. In my pockets I carried, of course, a knife, 
a compass, and a water-proof matchbox. Finally, just be¬ 
fore leaving home, I had been sent, for good luck, a gold- 
mounted rabbit’s foot, by Mr. John L. Sullivan, at one time 
ring champion of the world. 
Our camp was on a bare, dry plain, covered with brown 
and withered grass. At most hours of the day we could 
see round about, perhaps a mile or so distant, or less, the 
game feeding. South of the track the reserve stretched for 
a long distance; north it went for but a mile, just enough to 
prevent thoughtless or cruel people from shooting as they 
went by in the train. There was very little water; what 
we drank, by the way, was carefully boiled. The drawback 
to the camp, and to all this plains region, lay in the ticks, 
which swarmed, and were a scourge to man and beast. 
Every evening the saises picked them by hundreds off 
each horse; and some of our party were at times so bitten 
by the noisome little creatures that they could hardly sleep 
at night, and in one or two cases the man was actually laid 
up for a couple of days; and two of our horses ultimately 
got tick fever, but recovered. 
In mid-afternoon of our third day in this camp we at 
last had matters in such shape that Kermit and I could 
begin our hunting; and forth we rode, he with Hill, I with 
Sir Alfred, each accompanied by his gun-bearers and sais, 
and by a few porters to carry in the game. For two or 
three miles our little horses shuffled steadily northward 
across the desolate flats of short grass until the ground 
began to rise here and there into low hills, or koppies, with 
rock-strewn tops. It should have been the rainy season, 
the season of ‘‘the big rains”; but the rains were late, as 
