the opposite bank, to be instantly lost to sight in the forest. The whole incident has occupied but a few seconds; but we have got in our six shots, and three marauders lie stretched on the sand, while according to the natives at least one other went off distinctly the worse for wear. In this kind of shooting it is inevitable that there must be a certain amount of wildness; but, on the other hand, a bullet now and then finds more than one billet. Acquaintance with Acquaintance with the habits of the animals urges no waste of time, and hastily refilling the magazine we rush down the bank, and through the sand, hard on their tracks. Reckless of torn garments and lost hat, we force our way through the opposing barrier of thorns and creepers, and emerging 150 yards farther on at the edge of a small open space, find the whole pack halted and looking back, just on the opposite side. Our appearance is the signal for a chorus of warning barks and a swift retrograde movement; there is just time for one shot. Breathless from running, and with the perspiration streaming into the eyes, it is not a very steady one; in fact, as we pull the trigger, the muzzle of the rifle is describing quite large circles, and therefore it is sheer luck that on the report one of the nearest animals spins round quickly several times before plunging away after his companions. It looks as if one of his legs may have been broken. Anyhow it will be pure waste of time to hurry after them any more. This pack has been hunted a good deal lately by the rangers in its passage through their various sections, and will be on the alert for some considerable time after having once been disturbed in this manner. However it is very hot, and since their stomachs are full from their long morning's hunting, it is quite likely that if they think they are not being pursued they may settle down in some convenient spot a mile or two on. We therefore return to the stream-bed, where our followers have dragged together the bodies of the fallen. Gaunt, leggy animals, the males often standing nearly thirty inches at the shoulder, hunting dogs are blotched all over with irregularly shaped patches of yellow, black, and white-individuals showing a preponderance sometimes of one colour and sometimes of another. There is practically always a white tip at the end of the bushy tail. The ears are upstanding, nearly round, and of very large size proportionately to the whole animal. The head is rather short, but the jaw powerful, and furnished with a formidable array of long and sharp teeth. There is but little resemblance to our domestio canine friend, either in outward appearance or in natural characteristics, and the term "dog" is little descriptive of the animal. He droops away so markedly from shoulder to tail that one of the earliest colloquial designations conferred upon him was that of parison, for, until quite recently, but few found their way to civilisation for the inspection of science, the ordinary hunter paying but little attention to these unremunerative though otherwise interesting creatures. Observe the strong odour. It is always easy to recognise where a pack has been lying for at least half an hour after its departure; and when the atmosphere is moist and humid, even the human olfactory sense suffices to track it. The odour is strong and harsh, neither "foxy" nor "doggy," but a distinct brand of itself, never to be mistaken for anything else when it has been once "hyæna dog." The structural detail which separates him most markedly from all the tribes of true dogs, wolves, jackals, and foxes, is that he possesses only four toes to each foot there are no dew claws. Other differences exist, but the above is that which most readily strikes the observer at first sight. The African Hunting Dog is accordingly classed in a genus by himself, and has no very near relations now existing. The males, generally speaking (not always), seem to be darker than the other sex, that is to say, the black in the coat covers a proportionately larger area than either the yellow or the white. The hunting dogs of of Northern inhaled. Carcasses have to be Africa are, generally speaking, darkly coloured throughout, and are exceeded in size by their almost tawny coloured relatives from Cape Colony. Beyond this it is almost hopeless to endeavour to divide them into sub- species from external markings alone. In my experience hardly any two members of the same pack are marked precisely alike, and the white tag at the end of the tail varies in extent from monopolising nearly the whole of that member to occupying the tiniest space at the extreme end indeed I have seen more than one animal devoid of any white tag at all. Seeing that it will be as well to leave our friends some time in which to forget their alarm, the skinning of the fallen is proceeded with. Museums are glad to have the skins for purposes of study and com skinned soon after death and in the shade; otherwise the thin outer tegument, to which the hairs are attached, quickly peels off and shrivels under the sun's rays, and thus the specimen is spoiled. Neither the chase nor the skinning of the hunting dog is work in which the natives, to put it mildly, take any violent interest: they do not, at least in these parts, eat the flesh of any canines, and the skins have never been regarded as of the slightest value. Nevertheless, it is a mistake to imagine that the latter are always bare and mangylooking. It is true that in a very old animal the hair on the face and on much of the body is worn very short, but at this time of year the majority of the coats are glossy and in fine condition. The skinning process con sumes nearly an hour, and then the pelts, rolled tightly up, tied firmly with bark rope, are slung like a bundle of clothes on the point of Jase's assagai. It is the best that can be done, for we may not be within miles of this spot again. On the resumption of the chase there is no difficulty in following the tracks of the quickly moving pack, either through long grass or over stony ground. About two miles on lies another deeply cut valley, running parallel to that from which we have just emerged, and shepherding the own brother of the little driedup streamlet contained by the latter. The tracks lead us over a pile of large rocky boulders, almost hidden by long rank grass. Suddenly there comes a quick rustle, and straight across our front, his orest raised a full three feet from the ground, undulates the long sinuous body of 8 black mamba, deadliest snake in Africa, Moving faster than a man can run, the little wicked-looking head swaying gracefully from side to side with each movement of the body, he makes all haste to shelter. His movements are all easy and graceful, but it is well when they take him away from, and not towards, the traveller. Woe betide the unhappy man or beast that happens to get in the way of a black mamba rushing for his hole. His speed is so great that it is almost impossible to clear his path in time to avoid the lightning stroke which he delivers in passing, and should he get his blow home, the action of the poison is so rapid that there are few recorded instances of recovery from its effects. While still three hundred yards from the belt of dense bush bordering the streambed we hear the well-known growls of alarm, and get just one momentary glimpse of a single disappearing white tail tag. Running and scrambling through the bush as fast as possible, we arrive on the bank of the spruit in time to see this last animal crossing a few hundred yards below. He is hopping and limping, and is obviously one of the wounded ones. We refrain from firing, not from any element of compassion, but because at the moment we are immovably held in the embraces of a protruding branch of waita-bit. Each thorn has to be separately unhitched, and no sooner is one limb free than another is seized in vice - like grip. We are reduced to calling for assistance, and even after the arrival of our attendants, it is a couple of minutes before we are free. Truly a case of "more haste, less speed.' Perhaps on the whole the delay and loss of the shot were not really misfortunes. There exists among hunting dogs a certain spirit of comradeship, which prompts them to hang about to allow a disabled companion to keep up with them. This is a trait often of benefit to the hunter who keeps it in mind, since it is quite likely to prove the means of securing him opportunities for shots at other members of the pack, which otherwise he might lack. Solaced by this reflection, we presently follow on steadily, and in about half a mile come on the wounded beast standing under a thick bush. Half a dozen others are about thirty yards farther on. By dint of a little careful creeping under cover we manage to get near enough unobserved for a long shot, and by luck succeed in dropping another animal. This happens once or twice more, the wounded one, obviously weakening, letting us get a little nearer each time before he rushes off. At last the pack apparently decides to abandon him to his fate, and deliberately, I am convinced, turns down wind. The wind at his back, the case of the hunter becomes a hopeless one, for he is bound to be detected long before he can get a view, and farther to pursue the chase is merely to court repeated and aggravated disappointment. The last hour since the halt has been all hard and fast work, and it is pleasant to sit down at the edge of a small clearing, a thicket at our back to defend us from the still powerful rays of the afternoon sun. Clouds are beginning to bank up in the south and west, and now and then we can catch the very faint and distant rumbling of thunder. Our followers are divided in opinion, for while Jase thinks we shall not get a storm before night, Steamela is of the opinion that it will be on us by sundown. Jase is the elder, but Steamela says his father was a rainmaker, so presumably he should be an authority on meteorological questions. Very little four-footed game has been seen in the course of the day. The passage of a pack of hunting dogs has a far-reaching effect in scattering and disturbing other malian life: such few animals as have been noticed have seemed restless and scared, glancing timidly about, and prone to sudden and unjustified panics. Presently, however, from out of the shelter of a thicket a little duiker picks his dainty way, glances nervously around, and begins to nibble at some young shoots. A slight noise, and with one swift bound he has disappeared from sight. their way Steamela touches us very lightly on the shoulder. Following his fixed gaze, and careful not to make the slightest movement, we see something moving through the bush on our right. Another second discloses a pair of hunting dogs, one behind the other, making straight in our direction. They are no doubt a detachment from the main body, on their way to join it after a hunt on their own account. Quite unsuspicious of danger, they jog along at hounds' pace, and walk, alternately, glancing about with the alertness distinctive of all wild animals, but, like the rest, apparently slow to recognise the presence of any being which does not move, and which they have not winded. Something startles one of them, and he springs round, staring steadily in our direction. He takes another step forward, not yet fully alarmed, and perhaps anxious to obtain a clearer view. Even this slight movement is suggestive of power: the long sinewy legs act as if set on well-oiled springs, and every muscle of the body seems set in harmony. A quick growl shows us identified, and the shot rings out concurrently with the simultaneous leap of the two animals. The nearest is struck in the midst of his first bound, and rolls over and over; a second bullet knocks up the dirt just short of his mate, who affords no second chance. The stricken one struggles to his feet and is making off also; but Jase and Steamela are upon him in a moment, and dispatch him, unresisting, with a few deft blows from their knobsticks, to the accompaniment of a torrent of abuse. "Awo, take that, you that kill all our game! And that also. Now you will kill no more!" (Jase was a noted poacher himself before, and on the principle of setting a thief to catch a thief he was invested with the halo of respectability which surrounds Government employ.) Walking to the spot we find an old male, very dark in colour, the skin almost bare in places: the great ears are raw, and bleeding at the edges from the attentions of the multitudes of grass-ticks which hang on them in clusters. His long sharp teeth show no sign of age, how ever, and his stomach is distended almost to bursting-point with freshly bolted meat. "I wonder how many buck you have pulled down in your life; and how and where you got that old scar, nearly from shoulder to flank." The "boys" look up inquiringly. "No, never mind about the skin.' It is high time to think of home, from which at least seven weary miles separate us, even allowing for the short cuts which it will be possible to take. The tramp homewards is always a long one. Hope and excitement curtail the miles on the outward way; but, tired and the sport at an end, the return journey is always a disagreeable ordeal to face. I recollect once asking a native whether it was far to a certain place. "Well,” he replied, "if it is the cool of the morning, and you are fresh and strong and unburdened, it is not very far; but if it is hot, and you are tired and carrying a big load, it is a very long way." I think this rather sums up most tropical bush marching. Big purply clouds with serrated edges have already piled themselves up over half the sky. Feathery shreds of vapour, torn by the wind, are driving first in one direction and then in another. The thunder is rolling nearer, and flickers of lightning can be seen against the ominous blue-black background. Nature is clearly on the point of shaking herself free from the trammelling heat of the past week, and the process is going to be no gentle |