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The noise I made in getting out—for crawling was the
only means of getting from beneath my covering—had
evidently startled my midnight visitor.
The reader may imagine what my feelings were when I
looked around and saw that the fires were out and not a
Kaffir to be seen! I at once grasped the situation. The
wretched creatures had left me, and betaking themselves to
the shelter of the old skerm, were at that moment all fast
asleep huddled up together in a thicket, and perfectly
protected, as they had barricaded it with branches. This
discovery gavo me not a little annoyance. Certainly I
ought to have known better; but I was under the impression
on going to rest that the boys would sleep round the fire
and keep it blazing, and I was usually careful that it was
near the entrance to my shelter.
Next morning on examination we found the lion spoor
close to the tent. I followed it with the boys for some
distance- until it was lost in the thicket. After this
startling experience I made up my mind that in future no
camp should be formed without a skerm, whatever happened,
and no matter how tired the company might be.
How uncomfortable are even my memories of the dawn of
those miserable days! Remembering the rising sun I
seem yet to feel the scorch of its invincible heat. The early
glow invariably proclaimed the advent of terribly oppressive
(Jays—days for which it would be impossible to find words
to describe the utter misery of their tropical torments.*
* Since my return I have been much impressed by the fitness for those
times of Mr. Edwin Arnold’s powerful lines:—
“ Then breaks fierce Day! The whirling dust is driven
O’er earth and heaven, until the sun-scorched plain
Its road scarce shows for dazzling heat to those
Who, far from home and love, journey in pain,
Longing to rest again.”