It was just the same in South Africa--no luck at all, simply a lot of dramatic situations which fizzled out miserably. On one occasion Mr. Sheldon-Williams’s company occupied a farm-house near Johannesburg, and the very night on which he was absent, having ridden into town to deposit some money in the bank, was the one selected by the Boers to attack the place. His bed was close up against a window through which the Boers fired volley after volley. Had Mr. Sheldon-Williams occupied it as usual, he would undoubtedly have been shot! On another occasion he got leave of absence from a patrol, as the neighbourhood was supposed to be clear of the enemy, in order to do some sketching. The patrol was, of course, ambushed, and the man who took his place shot dead. Another piece of particularly bad luck occurred when Mr. Sheldon-Williams’s troop was attacking Klip River Kopje. The Boers had actually been seen on the ridge, and in the morning he was one of the men selected for scouting purposes. As he rode up the hill it certainly looked as though he had a fine chance of figuring in the next list of killed and wounded. But, as Mr. Sheldon-Williams says, “It was not my fault that the Boers had left overnight!” At Diamond Hill it was just the same. A mere handful of Yeomanry, Mr. Sheldon-Williams among them, held an exposed position throughout the night in the face of the enemy, determined to do or die. As it happened they did neither, for the next day they were told that there had been an armistice on all the time. Before Pretoria Mr. Sheldon-Williams was in the firing-line, which was strung out on the left of the advance. The Boer shell-fire had set the grass alight, depriving them of anything like adequate cover, and in the open the rifle-fire from the Boers was nothing more or less than a leaden hailstorm, but he was not even wounded. Presently the order to withdraw was given, but, having fallen asleep, he failed to notice it, and was the last man to leave. As he thus offered himself as a suitable target for a little individual sniping, a Boer marksman took careful aim at him and fired. He was a remarkably good shot, but, needless to say, he missed Mr. Sheldon-Williams, who at that precise moment stooped down to pick up a discarded rifle, the bullet passing close over his head! All things considered, therefore, Mr. Sheldon-Williams has certainly received exceptional treatment at the hands of Dame Fortune, but so long as she continues to serve him in the same way it is difficult to see that he has any just cause for complaint. _Hunting the Hippopotamus._ BY LIEUTENANT PAUL DURAND.