I know many men who through their devotion to field-sports have avoided many of those evils which others, through nothing but a life of idleness, have incurred. I was soon fortunate enough to purchase a very useful second pony, which was an accomplished animal in every way: he would stop immediately when I dropped the reins, or crossed the gun over the saddle, or rested my hand on his neck, or even if a buck sprung up in front of him. He would stand fire like a rock, and would not shake his head or start on any account, nor did he care for elephants or anything else. He was a most useful auxiliary, and from his back I shot elands, hartebeest, reitbok, ourebis, steinbok, duikers, etc. He would allow small bucks to be put up behind the saddle, and would carry them quietly. I passed a month in making myself acquainted with the country around D'Urban, its rivers, paths, and kloofs, and also in studying the Zulu language, which I found to differ slightly from the frontier Kaffir. I always carried a dictionary with me, and, upon meeting any natives, sat down, and, pulling out my book, asked word for word what I wanted. I rarely failed in making myself understood, and then the Kaffir would repeat my words, giving the correct pronunciation and grammar. If, for instance, I was thirsty and wanted some milk, I would look in my dictionary for "I want." _Funa_, I would find, expressed to want; _amasi_ or _ubisi_, milk (the first being sour milk, a very refreshing drink, and the latter sweet milk); _uku posa_, to drink. "Puna ubisi uku posa," I would say. The Kaffir would give a kind of intelligent grunt, such as _er-er_, and say, "Wena funa posa ubisi." I then repeated the sentence after him, putting _di_, I, for _wena_, you, and bore in mind that "Di funa posa amasi (_or_ ubisi)," was I want to drink some sour (or sweet) milk. By this means I was soon able to ask for everything I wanted, and in six months could talk the language with tolerable freedom. I found it of inconceivable use in my solitary trips, as I was then independent of Dutch farmers, English squatters, etc.; a Kaffir kraal always supplying the few things I wanted; and I was by its aid enabled to see and hear more than by any other means. I recommend every person who may be in a strange country at once to set to work and acquire its language; it turns out generally a most useful amusement. By these Kaffirs I was taught the art of spooring; my lessons were learned over the print of some buck's foot on the bent-down blade of a bit of grass. Spooring requires as much study and practice as any other science, and a professor is often required to decide some knotty point, such as the number of days since a buffalo passed, or at what hour certain elephants rolled in the mud. It first appeared to me very much a matter of guess, but I afterwards saw the reasons throughout for the Kaffirs' conclusions.