How beautifully the sunshine gleams upon his golden hide! He has cleared it, and the others come after him in numberless succession, all except the fawns, who cannot jump so far, and have to scamper over the doubtful path with a terrified _bah_.

What is that yonder, moving above the tops of the mimosa, in the little dell at the foot of the koppie?
Giraffes, by George! three of them; there will be marrow-bones for supper to-night.

Hark! the ground shakes behind us, and over the brow of the rise rush a vast herd of blesbock.

On they come at full gallop, their long heads held low, they look like so many bearded goats.

I thought so--behind them is a pack of wild dogs, their fur draggled, their tongues lolling.