[Illustration:  Escape from the rhinoceros]

The chase led through a large herd of blue wildebeests, zebras, and springboks, which gazed at us in utter amazement.  At length I fired my second barrel, but my horse was fidgety, and I missed.  I continued riding alongside of him, expecting in my ignorance that at length he would come to bay, which rhinoceroses never do; when suddenly he fell flat on his broadside on the ground, but recovering his feet, resumed his course as if nothing had happened.  Becoming at last annoyed at the length of the chase, as I wished to keep my horses fresh for the elephants, and being indifferent whether I got the rhinoceros or not, as I observed that his horn was completely worn down with age and the violence of his disposition, I determined to bring matters to a crisis; so, spurring my horse, I dashed ahead, and rode right in his path.  Upon this, the hideous monster instantly charged me in the most resolute manner, blowing loudly through his nostrils; and, although I quickly wheeled about to my left, he followed me at such a furious pace for several hundred yards, with his horrid horny snout within a few yards of my horse’s tail, that my little Bushman, who was looking on in great alarm, thought his master’s destruction inevitable.  It was certainly a very near thing; my horse was extremely afraid, and exerted his utmost energies on the occasion.  The rhinoceros, however, wheeled about, and continued his former course; and I, being perfectly satisfied with the interview which I had already enjoyed with him, had no desire to cultivate his acquaintance any further, and accordingly made for camp.

BURNING OF THE ERIE.

The steamboat Erie, under command of Captain Titus, left the dock at Buffalo on the afternoon of August 9th, 1841, laden with merchandise, destined for Chicago.  As nearly as could be ascertained, she had on board about two hundred persons, including passengers and crew.

The boat had been thoroughly overhauled and recently varnished.  At the moment of her starting, though the wind was blowing fresh, every thing promised a pleasant and prosperous voyage.  Nothing occured to mar this prospect till about eight o’clock in the evening, when the boat was off Silver Creek, about eight miles from the shore, and thirty-three miles from the city, when a slight explosion was heard, and immediately, almost instantaneously, the whole vessel was enveloped in flames.  Among the passengers were six painters, who were going to Erie to paint the steamboat Madison.  They had with them some demijohns filled with spirits of turpentine and varnish, which, unknown to Captain Titus, were placed on the boiler-deck directly over the boilers.  One of the firemen who was saved, says he had occasion to go on deck, and seeing the demijons, removed them.  They were replaced, but by whom is not known.  Their inflammable contents undoubtedly aided the flames in their rapid progress.