sheep were wellnigh unknown, oxen were scarce and their meat tough; but no one need grumble at a diet of buck, wild-pig, koran,[51] guinea-fowl, and occasionally wild-duck.  As regards other necessities of life, transport difficulties were enormous; every ounce of food besides meat, and including precious liquids, had then to be dragged over nearly 250 miles of indifferent roads; and not only groceries, but furniture, roofs of houses, clothes—­all had to be ordered six to eight months before they were required, and even then disappointments occurred in the way of waggons breaking down, of delays at the rail-head and at the crossing of the river.  To us who are accustomed to the daily calls of the butcher, the baker, and the grocer, the foresight which had to be exercised is difficult to realize, and with the best management in the world great philosophy was required to put up with the minor wants.

As to the climate of North-Western Rhodesia in the dry season—­which lasts from April or May to November, or even later—­it is ideal.  Never too hot to prevent travelling or doing business in the heat of the day, it is cold enough morning and evening to make fur coats by no means superfluous; rain is unknown, and of wind there is just enough to be pleasant, although now and then, especially towards sunset or before dawn, a very strong breeze springs up from a cloudless horizon, lasts about thirty minutes, making the trees bend and tents flap and rattle, and then dies away again as suddenly as it has come.  Sometimes, in the early morning, this breeze is of an icy coldness, and might be blowing straight from the South Pole.  During the dry season the traveller should not contract fever, unless he happens to have the germs in his system, and in this case he may have been immune the whole wet season, and then the first cold weather brings out the disease and lays him low.

I must now devote a few words to the veldt and to its animal life as we learnt to know it during some delightful weeks spent in camp eight miles from the township, where game was then still abundant.  There we lived in comfortable tents, and our dining-room was built of grass held in place by substantial sticks.  The delight of those days is fresh in my memory.  Up and on our horses at dawn, we would wander over this open country, intersected with tracks of forest.  The great charm was the uncertainty of the species of game we might discover.  It might be a huge eland, or an agile pig, or a herd of beautiful zebra.  Now and then a certain amount of stalking was required, and on one occasion a long ride round brought us to the edge of a wood, from whence we viewed at twenty yards a procession of wildebeeste—­those animals of almost mythical appearance, with their heads like horses and their bodies like cattle—­roan antelope, and haartebeeste; but as a rule, the game having been so little shot at, with an ordinary amount of care the hunter can ride to within shooting distance