However, it was not the moment to offer advice, as they were simply mad with excitement and delight.
The women raised their loud and shrill yell at parting, and our party of about twenty-five persons, with nine camels, six horses, and two donkeys, exclusive of the German, Florian, with his kicking giraffe-hunter, and attendants, ascended the broken slope that formed the broad valley of the Settite River.
There was very little game in the neighbourhood, as it was completely overrun by the Arabs and their flocks, and we were to march about fifty miles east-south-east before we should arrive in the happy hunting-grounds of the Base country, where we were led to expect great results.
In a day's march through a beautiful country, sometimes upon the high table-land to cut off a bend in the river, at other times upon the margin of the stream in the romantic valley, broken into countless hills and ravines covered with mimosas, we arrived at Ombrega (mother of the thorn), about twenty-four miles from Geera.

We soon arranged a resting-place, and cleared away the grass that produced the thorn which had given rise to the name of Ombrega, and in a short time we were comfortably settled for the night.

We were within fifty yards of the river, the horses were luxuriating in the green grass that grew upon its banks, and the camels were hobbled, to prevent them from wandering from the protection of the camp-fires, as we were now in the wilderness, where the Base by day and the lion and leopard by night were hostile to man and beast.
We were fast asleep a little after midnight, when we were awakened by the loud barking of the dogs, and by a confusion in the camp.

Jumping up on the instant, I heard the dogs, far away in the dark jungles, barking in different directions.

One of the goats was gone! A leopard had sprung into the camp, and had torn a goat from its fastening, although tied to a peg, between two men, close to a large fire.