The dogs pull up some thirty paces away, panting and snarling.

Now, boy, the gun--no, not the rifle, the shot-gun loaded with loopers.
Bang! bang! there, my friends, two of you will never hunt buck again.
No, don't touch the buck, for he has come to us for shelter, and he shall have it.
Ah, how beautiful is nature before man comes to spoil it! Such a sight as this have I seen many a hundred times, and I hope to see it again before I die.
The first real adventure that befell me on this particular journey was with elephants, which I will relate because of its curious termination.
Just before we crossed the Orange River we came to a stretch of forest-land some twenty miles broad.

The night we entered this forest we camped in a lovely open glade.

A few yards ahead tambouki grass was growing to the height of a man, or rather it had been; now, with the exception of a few stalks here and there, it was crushed quite flat.

It was already dusk when we camped; but after the moon got up I walked from the fire to see how this had happened.