420 
AFRICAN HUNTING. 
say there is neither game nor water ahead. The great 
Salt-pan, in which the Zonga river loses itself, is only 
a couple of hours west, and there is often a hurricane 
blowing across the desert, with clouds of dust and hot 
winds. I think my ox Pontac will recover, but 
Eingals, the best front ox ever inspanned, is dead. 
27 th .-—I have managed to supply the larder abund¬ 
antly, with two rhinoceros and two elands ; all lean 
as crows, however, and very bad fare. I had to go a 
weary way in search of them, and the flesh was gone 
bad ere it reached the wagon; but this morning I 
had not much trouble with an old black bull rhino¬ 
ceros. I was lying half asleep a little after sunrise, 
the mosquitoes having at last given me a little peace, 
when he came to the water. I gave my rifle fifteen 
drachms of coarse powder, as it was an open flat, 
and I resolved to make short work of him. I crept 
close to him, as he was drinking with his head in a 
hole, and shot him through the lungs dead, with the 
first barrel, which was just as well, as the cap of the 
second barrel sprang off with the recoil, and though 
I tried to give him a second pill, as he went away 
for 500 or 600 yards, it was a case of snap, of course. 
I made bad work of an ostrich yesterday, but the 
glare of the sun on the sand of the dry bed of a river 
was too much for me ; my eyes smarted, and I was 
more than half mazed, and though I succeeded in 
stalking within 200 yards, I felt sure I should miss 
him, as I was as shaky as if I had got the palsy, and 
I accordingly did miss him. The hardships of an 
