TAITA TO KILIMANJARO. 
69 
you limp back through the stubbly grass to find the 
track once more, of course tripping up a dozen times 
oyer unseen stumps and stones, and finally reaching the 
road to see your caravan represented by a few white 
specks in the extreme distance, these white specks now 
hurrying on with aggravated speed, just as if they 
knew you were limping painfully after them, and 
wished to pay you out for the many times when, they 
being tired and halting, you, burdenless and fresh, 
had remorselessly driven them on. And so with many 
sensible reasons you vow that nothing shall tempt you 
from the road again, for, even supposing you killed 
anything, can you stop the caravan for many hours 
while the meat is cooked and the skin cured? Of 
course not, why—and here you interrupt these reflec¬ 
tions by exclaiming excitedly to your servant, “ Oh, 
look here; I can’t stand this. Give me my gun—sh ! 
don’t you see that sable antelope— there! standing 
under the shade of the big treeand so hurriedly 
taking aim you fire, and 
oh ! joy, the antelope falls, 
evidently wounded, but, 
alas! not to the death, 
for it is up and off again 
before your next shot can 
finish the work, and like 
an idiot, you forget your 
sore feet and fatigue, and 
go racing after it over 
stocks and stones till once 
more you find it is in vain 
to combine the cares of a marching caravan and the 
pleasures of the chase. 
The expedition had been toiling on across the hot 
Fig. 21. 
Sable Antelope. 
