myself, I was desirous of obtaining some live porcupines, jumping-hares, and earth-pigs. The first expedition was made by day. Those of us who were on horseback surrounded a rocky crag, and sent the natives with the dogs to beat up the hill; our success, however, was most indifferent, as we discovered that the hyænas had been alarmed in time to make their escape.
The second excursion was by night over a district composed of grass plains studded with bushes and ant-hills, and bordered, especially on the east, by wooded crags. It was as beautiful a night as I ever remember, the moonlight being perfectly unclouded. I had been out inspecting the carvings for a long time that day, and contemplated taking a still longer ride on the morrow. I therefore left my own horse at home, and was mounted on one that my kind host had lent me, and that was well accustomed to the locality. The dogs, of which every farmer had contributed several to make up the pack, were put upon the scent, and we had hardly been galloping more than five minutes before we heard—them baying at the foot of a hill a little distance to our right. We spurred on our steeds, but gave them their heads, as they could see better than we could the blocks of stone that lay on the ground among the bushwood. We soon came up to the struggling mass in the midst of which was an object that kept glittering as it rolled over and over in the moonlight. It proved to be a porcupine which the dogs were rending to pieces; in spite of the armament of quills with which nature has endowed it, the porcupine has a remarkably fragile skin, so that it is easily torn by any animal that once makes good its hold
