“Since writing the letter of May 4th, which will reach you at the same time this does, I have broken down again. After finishing my letter to you I rode out to the waggon, inspanned, and trekked. I had gone perhaps five or six miles, when the wheel came to grief again, the tire breaking, and I had to return here. It has ended in my buying two new waggons, and selling the old one.... The great difference in my plans, however, is, that I have found a Dutchman and his little boy, who have agreed to accompany me. The former wanted to go hunting with some one, and I engaged him to go with me as driver and general overseer, but have stipulated that he shall only hunt when and where I think fit, as, for instance, when I leave the waggon standing to visit the Zambesi. Of course if he gets any ivory or feathers he gives me half, as is always done in these cases, and there may be enough to pay his wages as driver. His boy is a handy little fellow, and can take charge of a waggon.” It was the 13th of May, when again, for the third time, Frank Oates started north, but the further tracing of his fortunes must be left to the succeeding chapter. Before, however, concluding the present period of his wanderings, the following brief extract may be given from another of his letters, written about this time, with reference to his dogs. He says:-- “I have the nicest dog now I ever had. He is a pointer, and a most sensible creature. Dogs are indispensable here, if only to guard the waggon. My pointers are both well; I had four originally, but sold two here when I went further into the interior. One poor thing is dead, and the other far from flourishing. It was August when I left them, having a difficulty in feeding so many dogs; and now when I return in April, poor ‘Flirt’ knows me, and won’t let me out of her sight for a moment. She had only known me three months, but had formed a very strong attachment to me. She follows me like my shadow. They accuse her of stealing soap, and say she has a _penchant_ for departed negroes. The fact is she is not overfed. I wish that I had kept her. I have besides two puppies. One is five, the other three months old, and I have had them from their tenderest infancy.” The pointer referred to at the commencement of this paragraph was the traveller’s favourite, “Rail,” the attached and devoted companion of all his wanderings, his friend in solitude, and faithful to him even after death. [Illustration: “ROCK” AND “RAIL.”] CHAPTER VIII. Again at Tati--Fresh causes of delay--Lions on the Motloutsi--Threatened by natives--Forthcoming prospects.