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AFRICAN HUNTING. 
There is so much sameness in the country, that I 
dare not leave the wagons in the bush, for fear of 
losing myself. We find one another by firing guns 
and lighting immense fires. It is anything but a 
comfortable feeling when you are lost, as you have 
not an idea where you are likely to get water, and 
the ground is so dry and baked with the sun that 
the wagons hardly leave any visible spoor. We all 
agreed that we would not willingly set foot in this 
land again. We are twenty in all at the wagons, 
black and white, including two women and their 
children. Bryan is sick, and two oxen also. Jack 
was lost last night, and we were debating whether 
the lions had taken him or not, when, to my great 
joy, the Tottie discovered him. The Kaffirs found 
ten ostrich eggs yesterday, which were very good. 
I breakfasted this morning on rhinoceros hump, 
baked in a hole in the ground, in the skin — tender, 
jiucy, fat, glutinous, and good. 
Wherever there is a little muddy spring, which 
takes half a day to fill a small hole, you will find 
some poor wretches of starving Masaras close in the 
neighbourhood; how they support life at all is a 
mystery to me, in this barren, worthless desert. The 
Masaras have no cattle or gardens ; indeed, I don’t 
suppose anything would grow. Half a dozen stunted 
goats, and a few curs that can hardly hold together 
from famine, constitute their all. 
22nd .— No elephants yet, and the Kaffirs will not 
tell us where they are ; I think they are afraid of 
