Just as I was on the point of clambering up the bank I heard a rustling above my head; I kept perfectly silent, and soon discovered that the noise came from a herd of pallahs, on their way to drink. I recognized them by the crashing which their horns made in the bushes, and by their peculiar grunt. Swinging myself up by means of the branches, I reached the top of the bank, and wendine my way along the glen, before long recognized the barking of the dogs, which had been disturbed by the antelopes. My whistle quickly brought my faithful Niger to my side, and his company agreeably relieved the rest of my way back to the fires which marked the place of our encampment.
Taking Pit with me next morning, I made an investigation of the place where I had spent so much of the previous dreary night. It was covered with lion-tracks, and the little barricade was completely trampled down. One of my dogs at this place fell a victim to the flies, that settled in swarms on its eyes, ears, and nose, so that the poor brute was literally stung to death.
Shortly afterwards I took Pit on another long excursion inland. Having heard that the colonists are accustomed to creep into the large hyæna-holes under ground, and that when they have ascertained that the hyæna is “at home,” they kindle a fire at its mouth, so that the animal is obliged to make an exit, when it is either shot or killed by clubs, I made Pit put the experiment into practice. We found the hole, and we lighted the fire, but we did not secure our prey; somehow or other Pit was not able to make the smoking-out process go off successfully.
