Those that live in trees and eat bucks in Zululand, of whose skins men make waistcoats and slippers, are but babies compared to this one.

He came out, yard after yard of him.

He wriggled about, he stood upon his tail with his head where the top of a tree might be, he made himself into a ring, he bit at stones and at his own stomach, while I hid behind my rock praying to your reverend father that he might not see me.

Then at last he rushed away down the hill, faster than any horse could gallop.
"Now I hoped that he had gone for good and thought of going myself.
Still I feared to do so lest I should meet him somewhere, so I made up my mind to wait till daylight.

It was as well, Baas, for about half an hour later he came back again.