90 
AFKICAN HUNTING. 
killed him. The sun was fast setting ; the Kaffirs 
got him nearly ashore, and we lighted three huge 
fires (with a cap and powder on the heel-plate of 
my gun, giving it a smart blow with a stone), 
and fed on him, but he was horribly tough. The 
night was awfully foggy, and the dew heavy ; and, 
when morning came, I had every symptom • of 
fever. Notwithstanding, I. was obliged to walk 
twenty-five miles home, with scarcely any shade on 
the road. Many a vow I made, during the day, 
never to return to the country. 
The next day I kept my bed, and my ink being 
exhausted, I continued my journal with a compound 
of tea and gunpowder. Being very anxious to get 
back to the Pongola, where I had some faint hopes 
of finding Barter and Moreton, and obtaining a 
little quinine, and a fresh supply of provisions — as 
I had nothing in the shape of food, and was so weak 
that I could no longer eat beans, mealies, and 
inyouti — I started, and reached Umpongal’s. 
21st — Again got under weigh, trying to make 
Utumani’s, but, after fighting on for about four hours, 
I had to give in. I could not walk five yards 
straight, or keep in the path at all. After about two 
hours’ rest under the shade of a tree, I made some 
kraals, where I took up my quarters, and took three 
emetics, none having any effect. As a last resort, 
thinking it was all up with me, I got a Kaffir to 
tickle my throat with long grass, full of little seeds, 
pushed far down. This, at last, had the desired 
