There is an established custom in Africa, that when any one is absent from the nightly gathering, a man is sent on to the nearest rise, when, putting the muzzle of his gun close to the ground, he fires the two barrels in quick succession: this is repeated at short intervals, and on a still night the report is heard many miles off. Should any one be lost, or in distress, at any time, the same signal from him serves to indicate it. I asked all the Dutchmen into my tent, and we had our beef and bread brought in hot-and-hot, with a steaming basin of tea from the bivouac-fire. I had with me a plentiful supply of brandy and gin, which I distributed to my guests with a free hand. They talked a great deal, the run we had had being the principal topic; they were generous enough to say that they thought I should have killed the eland at once, had I been allowed to go off after him. I was much, amused to discover by their conversation in what poor estimation they held English sportsmen generally. Many of my gallant friends (oracles in their sporting world) would be struck dumb with horror if they knew with what contempt their performances would be looked upon, were they to show them amongst an African field. Perhaps I may clear up this apparent mystery if I relate what are considered the essentials necessary to even mediocrity in this land of sport. It is absolutely necessary not only to be a good shot, but to be so after a sharp four-mile gallop, and from either shoulder; to load as well while at full speed as when on foot; to be able to ride boldly across country, and allow your horse to go down-hill at speed over the large stones and _with a loose rein_; to pull up, dismount, fire, and get up again with a rapidity a monkey might envy; and when an animal has been wounded and is out of sight, to lean over your horse's shoulder, and follow the spoor at a canter on the hard ground with the accuracy of a hound; and last and not least, to take care to fly clear of your horse when he turns over in a jackal's or porcupine's hole, instead of letting him come on you and smash a few ribs. These and many other qualifications, I have no doubt, most of my readers possess; but there may be some who do not, and who in consequence would not stand A1 in the far south. Many offers were made to me to go on elephant-shooting trips into the interior with these men, who purposed a journey during the next dry season: the Boers' anecdotes gave a great impulse to my already long-cherished wishes, but circumstances unavoidably prevented this trip. When the Boers left my tent, I rolled myself up in my blanket, and listened to the distant shrieks of the jackal and laugh of the hyaena, while many other strange noises in the distance excited my curiosity. I slept and dreamed not.