At Assegai Bush we were met by a convoy of twenty additional waggons, sent from Graham's Town, to lighten our own, and enable us to proceed with greater dispatch. They were escorted by about fifty Fingoe Levies, armed as usual, with guns and assegais; their felt hats ornamented with the feathers of the Kaffir crane, the ostrich, vink, and lorie, jackall's brushes, or strips of tiger skin; and wearing suspended from the waist by steel chains of their own manufacture, bags or purses, called _daghasacs_, ingeniously made without a seam, of the entire skin of the wild cat, dossie, or monkey (the opening at the neck being the only one, through which the whole of the flesh and bone is removed); in these they carry their pipes and tobacco, the _iquaka_ or snuff box (made of a small gourd, with bead ornaments, and horn or metal spoons attached, similar to those in use in the Highlands); with their flint and steel, charms, and other odds and ends. Thus relieved, the oxen jogged cheerily on, and the march was prolonged several hours beyond our usual distance. At sunset, on leading our horses to drink at a small vley, near the edge of the bush, we found the fresh spoor of a tiger, the prints of his massive feet being quite plain in the mud. After nightfall we crept more slowly on; the waggons jolting and creaking heavily along the rough road, bumping up against the huge stones, and diving into the deep gullies, or "sluits," with which it abounded. At last we halted, and groping about in the dark, tumbling into jackall's holes and running into prickly bushes, managed to pitch our tents on the worst piece of ground imaginable; and, as it was out of the question to find wood, we gave up the idea of fires; though it had already begun to rain; and turned in, hoping to sleep soundly after a thirty miles march. In this we were however disappointed, for a great number of the tents blew down during the night, in a high wind, that tore up the tent pegs from the soft ground, and left us exposed to the pitiless pelting of the storm. But all things have an end, and next morning the sun shone out as brightly as ever; and the face of the country looked fresher and greener than before. Our road led for some miles through a fine _poort_, or glen; shut in by high bold rocky hills, with prickly-pear, scarlet and lilac geraniums, and African aloes in full flower, growing in every nook and crevice; the steep road winding by the course of a mountain stream, along which grew hundreds of the large white arum,[4] orange-coloured salvias, and a host of other flowers; whilst chattering flocks of the bright golden green spreuw,[5] honey-birds and orioles flitted among the tall jungle, and flew from branch to branch.