My approach concealed by a hut, it was as I glanced round it to windward that I was a witness of the following custom:--Leaning against the side, my white face concealed by the skull of a cow fixed on the thatch--stay, before going further, let me for a moment digress, and explain why these skulls, to which I have twice referred, are here. I have already remarked upon the great love of the Kaffir for his cows. All his ambition is to possess them; dreadful frays take place because of them; and stealing, or, as the Scotch term it, "cattle lifting," is very prevalent; yet at some ceremonies, or when vanity, which exists in these uncivilised regions as elsewhere, steps in, the owner of the kine will kill a cow to entertain his friends; but to show that he did once possess, and was rich enough to spare it, he keeps the skull to place upon the thatch of his hut. Thus the residence of a chief, who is rich in cattle, has often several of these--I must say hideous adornments. But to go back to what I saw. I had observed two Kaffirs advancing, and had drawn back, not anxious to meet them, when abruptly they came to a halt, and with all the gravity imaginable squatted on the ground. I was turning away, thinking I might disturb some private conference, when I perceived--for I was on the watch for everything peculiar--one of the Kaffirs take from his ear a kind of little bottle, and from his issikoko an ivory spoon with a round bowl. This he filled completely with snuff from the bottle, and afterwards passed it to the other, turning his head away, according to Kaffir etiquette, so that he might not appear to watch the quantity taken. His companion--not sufficiently rich, I suppose, to own a spoon--poured some on the palm of his hand, which he worked to a conical shape to fit the nostril, whereupon the two inhaled the luxury without losing a grain; which no sooner had they done than, not to my surprise, considering the enormous heap of the pungent powder they had taken, large tears began to roll down their cheeks. But this was not all. As their eyes overflowed, with their thumb-nails the Kaffirs made a channel down each cheek for the water to have free course to the corners of their mouths, and there they sat in solemn state, enjoying, as they really do, their snuff. The sight, however, was so ludicrous to my English notions, that I had to beat a rapid retreat, lest by a burst of uncontrollable laughter I might betray my presence. I hurried round the other side of the hut, and came full upon the interpreter, who announced that the hunting party was prepared to start. CHAPTER EIGHT. A VISIT TO THE CATTLE--A KOODOO HUNT--MY POSITION IS RATHER IMPROVED.