ALONE AT THE WAGON. 
325 
yesterday, as the elephants stand so far off 
from the water that it is impossible to get back 
the same day, and the want of water plays more 
mischief with the horses than several days under the 
saddle. I have therefore come on with one wagon 
ten miles nearer to their standing-place, and left the 
other two, and all the oxen, at the old place near the 
stone fountain. It is now the depth of winter, and 
the grass is as dry as old tinder, without .the slightest 
nourishment in it. As a natural consequence, the oxen 
are as lean as rakes, and, worst of all, the mealies 
and Kaffir corn are finished, and no more is to be 
had at any price, so that we cannot long hold out 
under these circumstances. I grieve much for the 
poor willing horses, thirteen or fourteen hours under 
the saddle, at foot’s pace, in a broiling sun three- 
fourths of the time, then tied up to the wagon without 
food, and stinted in their allowance of water, which 
we have to draw ten miles, at least, half the way 
through hack-thorns over a stony ground. These 
are amongst the hardships we must undergo to get 
elephants; they are dearly paid for, and we cannot 
even indulge in the luxury of a good wash, after a 
fearful day’s toil and dust. 
We set off, a strong muster, two days ago, to hunt 
part of the forest in which the elephants stand, and 
had not gone 300 yards from the wagon when 
January hit off the fresh spoor of an old bull, 
followed it ten times better than the best blood¬ 
hound over all kinds of country, hard and soft, lots of 
