In the afternoon of the same day that I reached Richterfeldt a very exciting and animating chase took place. A gnoo had been slightly wounded by a Hottentot servant of Mr. Rath. The natives, who had watched the whole affair from the station, immediately gave chase to the animal. Finding itself hard pressed, the gnoo, in its fright, took refuge in the village, where it was quickly hemmed in on all sides. Every woman and child had turned out to witness its destruction, while the men were vociferously contending about the right to the carcass. Assegais and arrows, moreover, were whizzing thick round our ears, and I had considerable difficulty in making my way through this scene of confusion to the poor gnoo, which I found at bay in the middle of Mr. Rath's sheep-kraal, not twenty feet from his own dwelling. It was pierced with two assegais, and the blood flowed in streams down its panting and foaming sides.

Though the gnoo is but a comparatively small animal, its high fore quarters, its coarse and shaggy mane, and its buffalo head, gives it a very imposing and formidable appearance. It was impatiently stamping and striking the ground with its fore feet, and its looks seemed to bid defiance to us all.

At some risk, on account of the immense concourse of people assembled, I put a ball through the animal's shoulders, which at once ended its sufferings. A few minutes more -nay, rather seconds—there was not a vestige to be seen of it. Indeed, it was literally torn to pieces by the natives.

On paying my respects, later in the evening, to Mr. and Mrs. Rath, I was politely informed that the penalty for shooting the gnoo was a goat. This being explained, I found, to my surprise, that the ball had passed clean through the antelope, and had struck dead a goat belonging to these worthy people.

The day previously to my reaching the encampment, Mr. Galton had started on an excursion to the westward. His object was chiefly to procure cattle from the natives, for we

had not yet succeeded in obtaining a sufficiency of animals. He was also anxious to see and explore Erongo, a mountain famous at once for its peculiar formation, and as a stronghold of that curious race, the Hill-Damaras. Mr. Galton was accompanied by Hans, who had already visited the place, and a few other servants. On his return from Erongo, we were to start, with the wagons, up the country.

One day, when eating my humble dinner, I was interrupted by the arrival of several natives, who, in breathless haste, related that an ongeama, or lion, had just killed one of their goats close to the mission station (Richterfeldt), and begged of me to lend them a hand in destroying the beast. They had so often cried "wolf" that I did not give much heed to their statements; but, as they persisted in their story, I at last determined to ascertain its truth. Having strapped to my waist a shooting-belt, containing the several requisites of a hunter, such as bullets, caps, knife, &c., I shouldered my trusty double-barreled gun (after loading it with steel-pointed balls), and followed the men.

In a short time we reached the spot where the lion was believed to have taken refuge. This was in a dense tamarisk brake of some considerable extent, situated partially on and below the sloping banks of the Swakop, near to its junction with the Ommutenna, one of its tributaries.

On the rising ground above the brake in question were drawn up, in battle array, a number of Damaras and Namaquas, some armed with assegais, and a few with guns. Others of the party were in the brake itself, endeavoring to oust the lion.

But as it seemed to me that the "beaters" were timid, and, moreover, somewhat slow in their movements, I called them back, and, accompanied by only one or two persons, as also a few worthless dogs, entered the brake myself. It was rather a dangerous proceeding; for, in places, the cover was so thick and tangled as to oblige me to creep on my hands

and knees, and the lion, in consequence, might easily have pounced upon me without a moment's warning. At that time, however, I had not obtained any experimental knowledge of the old saying, "A burnt child dreads the fire," and therefore felt little or no apprehension.

Thus I had proceeded for some time, when suddenly, and within a few paces of where I stood, I heard a low, angry growl, which caused the dogs, with hair erect in the manner of hogs' bristles, and with their tails between their legs, to slink behind my heels. Immediately afterward a tremendous shout of "Ongeama! Ongeama!" was raised by the natives on the bank above, followed by a discharge of fire-arms. Presently, however, all was still again, for the lion, as I subsequently learned, after showing himself on the outskirts of the brake, had retreated into it.

Once more I attempted to dislodge the beast; but, finding the enemy awaiting him in the more open country, he was very loth to leave his stronghold. Again, however, I succeeded in driving him to the edge of the brake, where, as in the first instance, he was received with a volley; but a broomstick would have been equally efficacious as a gun in the hands of these people, for out of a great number of shot that were fired, not one seemed to have taken effect.

Worn out at length by my exertions, and disgusted beyond measure at the way in which the natives bungled the affair, I left the tamarisk brake, and, rejoining them on the bank above, offered to change places with them; but my proposal, as I expected, was forthwith declined.

As the day, however, was now fast drawing to a close, I determined to make one other effort to destroy the lion, and, should that prove unsuccessful, to give up the chase. Accordingly, accompanied by only a single native, I again entered the brake in question, which I examined for some time without seeing any thing; but on arriving at that part of the cover we had first searched, and when in a spot compara

tively free from bushes, up suddenly sprung the beast within a few paces of me. It was a black-maned lion, and one of the largest I ever remember to have encountered in Africa. But his movements were so rapid, so silent and smooth withal, that it was not until he had partially entered the thick cover (at which time he might have been about thirty paces distant) that I could fire. On receiving the ball, he wheeled short about, and with a terrific roar bounded toward me. When within a few paces, he couched, as if about to spring, having his head imbedded, so to say, between his fore-paws.

Drawing a large hunting-knife and slipping it over the wrist of my right hand, I dropped on one knee, and, thus prepared, awaited his onset. It was an awful moment of suspense, and my situation was critical in the extreme. Still, my presence of mind never for a moment forsook me-indeed, I felt that nothing but the most perfect coolness and absolute self-command would be of any avail.

I would now have become the assailant; but, as-owing to the intervening bushes, and clouds of dust raised by the lion's lashing his tail against the ground-I was unable to see his head, while to aim at any other part would have been madness, I refrained from firing. While intently watching his every motion, he suddenly bounded toward me; but, whether it was owing to his not perceiving me, partially concealed as I was in the long grass, or to my instinctively throwing my body on one side, or to his miscalculating the distance, in making his last spring he went clear over me, and alighted on the ground three or four paces beyond. Instantly, and without rising, I wheeled round on my knee and discharged my second barrel; and as his broadside was then toward me, lodged a ball in his shoulder, which it completely smashed. On receiving my second fire, he made another and more determined rush at me, but, owing to his disabled state, I happily avoided him. It was, however, only by a hair's breadth, for he passed me within arm's length. He