A NIGHT IN THE OPEN. 
155 
Game took me farther than I intended, and the 
wagons must have diverged to the left, for I could 
never cross the track again, and as the sun went down 
I began to get very uneasy and very chilly, a shirt 
and trousers being all my attire. Just after sunset 
jackals first began to make their appearance, and a 
flac fare (veldt pig) came out of a hole near me; 
this I shot for supper, and then found I had forgotten 
my knife, and could not get through his skin. As 
darkness fast set in, I knee-haltered my horse to feed, 
and began to try and collect dung for a fire, but could 
find little or none, and was forced to give up the 
attempt, and, before it was quite dark, I caught 
Adrian, drove my iron ramrod deep into the ground 
with the heel of my boot, and made him fast to that 
with the rheim, which is invariably round all our 
horses’ necks. I curled myself up for warmth — a 
saddle-cloth less than two feet square being my only 
covering. There was a bitter cold white frost, and a 
dense mist, and, like an idiot, I had got into a valley 
by a vley of water, the very coldest spot I could have 
chosen, and the long grass soon began to get reeking 
wet. I tried every dodge and device to make Adrian 
lie down, hitting him below the knees with my gun- 
barrels, making the poor old horse lift one leg up 
after another, as if he was standing on hot cinders. 
I next stood and leant against him on the lee side, 
and then tried lying down again, and tore up a 
regular hole in the ground with my teeth, and was 
half choked with soil. A concert was going on 
