Gun and Camera in Southern Africa ... With numerous illustrations and a map

Front matter

GUN AND CAMERA IN SOUTHERN AFRICA Frontispiece CHANTING HAWK AND MANY- BANDED SPARROW HAWK {Melierax musicus) {Accipiter polyzonoides) From Mosita and the Maritsani River, British Bechuanaland See s>nge GUN AND CAMEKA IN SOUTHERN AFRICA A YEAR OF WANDERINGS IN BECHUANALAND, THE KALAHARI DESERT, AND THE LAKE RIVER COUNTRY, NGAMILAND WITH NOTES ON COLONISATION, NATIVES, NATURAL HISTORY AND SPORT BY H. ANDERSON BRYDEN AUTHOR OF "KLOOF AND KARROO IN CAPE COLONY," ETC. ETC. WITH NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS AND A MAP LONDON: EDWAE1) STANFORD 26 & 27, COCKSPUR STREET, CHARING CROSS, S.W. i893 TO MY FRIENDS WILLIAM iMACKAY and WILLIAM T)OVE IN REMEMBRANCE OF MANY GOOD DAYS TOGETHER IN THE AFRICAN VELDT / DEDICATE Œbts Boon

Preface

Between 1840 and 1850, when Livingstone began first to turn his thoughts towards exploration, all the vast territories beyond the Vaal River — north, east, and west — were termed by the frontier Boers " onze veldt " (our country) ; and so determined were these stubborn folk to close the door of the interior to all save those of their own blood, that they fined an unfortunate explorer, named Macabe, 500 rix dollars for daring to write to the Cape papers recom mending a certain route for the discovery of Lake Ngami — then unknown to the white man. These Transvaal Boers even went the length of imprisoning Mr. Macabe until the fine was paid. Between 1840 and 1880 Britain, interested and occupied in other possessions, knew little of and cared less for South Africa. Even down to the year 1884 it seemed more than likely that the Transvaal Dutch were to be, as they had always threatened, masters of the interior.

Happily at the eleventh hour a revulsion of feeling came ; the British public suddenly awoke to the imminence of its prospective loss ; Sir Charles Warren's expedition was sent out, and the " hinter-land " was saved.

PREFACE.

VIII Recent events, and especially the Transvaal gold discoveries, the enterprise of the British South Africa Company, and a more enlightened colonial policy at home, have combined to assure finally the future of a great British South Africa. The Afrikander Dutch, thanks mainly to the wonderful developments of the Witwatersrand gold industry, have become alive to the fact that a fusion of ideas and even of nationality is possible with the once-detested Britisher ; and for the future two vigorous and hardy races, who never ought to have had bad blood between them, seem likely to join hands in the making of an immense and prosperous country. Nowhere is this more evident than in the new colony of British Bechuanaland, where at this moment Dutch Boers from the Trans vaal and Orange Free State are constantly to be found taking up farms under a British government.

The march of events in the countries between the Vaal and Zambesi has within these last three years been immense. The solitudes, where to-day the wild Bushman burns off the winter grass to induce the fresh vegetation and attract the game, resound to morrow with the echoing waggon-whips and the cheery voices of the digger and the colonist. In every corner of those lands, which the frontier Boer of a generation since delighted to call " onze veldt," is now heard the Anglo-Saxon tonssue. In this book I have endeavoured to give a plain account of life and conditions in some of the new and promising regions thus opened up to the European, to wit, Bechuanaland, the Kalahari, and

PREFACE.

IX Ngamiland. I am hopeful that information useful to the colonist and the settler may be found within these pages. In the course of the various chapters there is a good deal of matter which may be of interest to the naturalist and the sportsman. I have devoted a chapter to the game-birds of Bechu analand, and another to the present distribution of the large game of the countries of which I treat. This last is a melancholy subject enough for the lover of wild animal life. Even in the last ten years the fauna of the interior have been terribly reduced, their range is constantly becoming more circumscribed, and the day is not far distant when large game south of the Zambesi will be but a memory. Finally, in the chapter on " Waggon Life and Camp Requisites," I have devoted space to those useful minutiæ of travel which are not always to be found readily in the pages of South African literature.

I cannot pretend that my pictures represent a high order of photographic art. But I will ask the reader to remember that the originals were taken and developed (where development was possible) usually under very trying conditions. Often the water available was so filthy as to render success ful development an impossibility. In the waggon journey to the Lake River I was unable from various reasons to develop at all, and could merely take " shots," and pack away my plates for a more con venient season. Such as the illustrations are I offer

PREFACE.

X them as faithful delineations of places, objects, and people hitherto not often accessible to the camera. The views taken on the Lake (or Botletli) River, Ngamiland, are of interest as depicting — I believe for the first time with the camera — some of the scenes of Livingstone's first great discovery. For the benefit of travellers, I have shown plainly in the accompanying map the few and scanty waters of the North Kalahari region (well called " Thirst land " by the Boers), separating the Lake Country from Bechuanaland proper. Several of these waters do not appear in published maps, and are apparently little known. For the westerly course of the Molopo River (hitherto imperfectly known) I have followed a recent map of my friend Mr. Edward Wilkinson, who has made two interesting expeditions in that part of the Kalahari.

Some portion of this book has appeared in the pages of the Field, Longmans' Magazine, and Cham bers's Journal, and I have to thank the Editors of those publications for their kindness in allowing me to reprint here. I am indebted to Mr. Kemp of Mafeking for the originals of my pictures at pages 38 and 184, and to the " Gaseitsive's Concession Syndicate" for the one at page 226. H. A. BRYDEN. March 1893. CONTENTS CHAP. PAGE I. FIRST DAYS IN BECHUANALAND ..... I II. FOUR MONTHS IN BAROLONG HUTS .... 24 III. NATURAL HISTORY NOTES . . . . . -57 IV. A DAY' WITH THE SHOT GUNS ..... 98 V. BRITISH BECHUANALAND AND ITS FUTURE . . .112 VI. THE KALAHARI AND ITS SERFS . . . . 1 36 VII. A TREK TO MOROKWENG, SOUTH KALAHARI . . 147 VIII. A TRIP TO MARICO, NORTH-WEST TRANSVAAL . -174 IX. OUR STEEPLECHASES . . . . . .199 X. A WAGGON JOURNEY THROUGH THE PROTECTORATE 213 XI.

KHAMA AND HIS COUNTRY . . . . .250 XII. ACROSS THE KALAHARI DESERT TO THE BOTLETLI RIVER, NGAMILAND . . . . . -277 XIII. GIRAFFE HUNTING ....... 304 XIV. THE GIRAFFE AT HOME . . . . . -322 XV. MOONLIGHT TREKKING ; MY HUNTER'S YARN . . 336 XVI. SPORT AND NATURAL HISTORY ON THE BOTLETLI 349 XVII. NOTES ON THE PURSUIT OF GAME . . 374 XVIII. THE WATERWAY AND WATERFOWL OF THE BOTLETLI . 394 XIX, OUR RETURN THROUGH THE THIRSTLAND ; ELAND HUNTING . . . . . . . .412 CONTENTS XII CHAP. PAGE XX. DOWN COUNTRY ....... 433 XXI. FISHING IN BECHUANALAND . . . . -457 XXII. THE GAME-BIRDS OF BECHUANALAND .... 465 XXIII. PRESENT DISTRIBUTION OF THE LARGE GAME OF BECHU- 484 ANALAND, NGAMILAND, AND THE KALAHARI XXIV. WAGGON LIFE AND CAMP REQUISITES . . . LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS HAWKS FROM BRITISH BECHUANALAND . . .

Frontispiece a pool on the maritsani .... To face page 22 MOLOPO RIVER, NEAR MAFEKING ... ,, 38 OCR NEAREST NEIGHBOURS .... ,,48 GREEN TREE-SNAKE ...... „ 80 COQUI FRANCOLIN ...... „ IOO CHILDREN OF THE DESERT .... ,, 136 IN THE THIRSTLAND ..... „ 142 OUR TREK AT MOROKWENG .... ,, 166 " APPEL," MY FIRST SHOOTING- PON Y . . ,, 176 THE " WONDER-GAT," NEAR MAFEKING . . ,, 184 DOVE IN HIS KARTEL ..... „ 2l8 BECHUANA DRESS, ANCIENT AND MODERN . . ,,226 KHAMA, CHIEF OF BAMANGWATO . . . ,, 257 GOOD-BYE TO MACKAY ..... ,,284 MASARWA BUSHMEN ..... „ 292 MARUTI PITS, NORTH KALAHARI ... „ 296 W. MACKAY . . . ' . . . ,, 302 AFTER THE GIRAFFE HUNT .... ,, 32O HEAD OF GIRAFFE COW . . . . . „ 325 " PICCANIN," OUR WAGGON-BOY .... ,, 342 BAKURUTSE PEOPLE, NGAMILAND . . . ,, 352 HOME LIFE AT MASINYa's KRAAL ... „ LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS XIV BOTLETLI RIVER, NGAMILAND ....

To face page 372 HEAD OF BRINDLED GNU .... ,, 377 HEAD OF BURCHELL'S ZEBRA . . . . ,, 38 1 HEAD OF LECHWE WATERBUCK .... ,, 387 OUR OUTSPAN AT MASINYA'S KRAAL ... „ 394 PELICAN OF THE WILDERNESS 400 BERG DAMARA AND BUSH BOYS . . . ,, 414 AFTER THE TREK THROUGH THE THIRSTLAND 43° YELLOW-THROATED SANDGROUSE ... >i 477 HEADS OF GAME SHOT ON THE BOTLETLI . . ,, 486 HEAD OF WHITE RHINOCEROS .... ,, 493 MY WAGGON, BOTLETLI RIVER PLAINS . . ,, 516 MAP SHOWING AUTHOR'S ROUTES . . . End of book

Chapter I. First Days In Bechuanaland

Arrival in Kimberley — Purchase of horses — Start up country — Drive through Griqualand West and South Bechuanaland — Arrival at Vryburg — Vryburg hospitality — The Stellalanders — Description of Vryburg — Past history — The orange-shouldered bunting and its habits — Tame crowned crane — Its evil ways — Cost of living — " Scotty Smith," a border character — His exploits — "Big Mick" — Leave Vryburg — Journey to Setlagoli — The Setlagoli district — Arrival at junction of Maritsani and Setlagoli rivers. At the beginning of 1890, business matters connected with a large tract of land in British Bechuanaland required that I should make some sojourn in that latest of England's Crown colonies. From one cause or another, the sojourn lengthened out into a stay of fifteen months, during which time many parts of the interior of Southern Africa — most of them remote, all of them interesting — were visited and explored.

After a delightful passage in the Norham Castle, Cape Town and Kimberley were reached in due course. It was some years since I had been in South Africa, and, although in time gone by I had seen much of Cape Colony, the territories north of the Orange River were as yet new and unknown to me. My companion, A Mr. W. Mackay, who had come out to have a look at the country, had determined to spend some months with me ; and we were both agreed, my business being completed, to push northward, to the end that we might there indulge our mutual yearnings for sport and exploration. Kimberley, at the end of January, was extremely hot and not extremely attractive ; the shade temperature running up as high as 97°, with a sun heat (blackened bulb in vacuo) of 161 70 — hot enough for a salamander — and so, having seen the well-known sights of the place, and having despatched our heavy luggage by waggon, and no post cart running to Bechuanaland for some days, Mackay and I cast about for some other method of making the journey.

We were not long in finding a townsman — Mr. Reinegger — who possessed (inter alia) a strong Cape cart and four capital greys, and was willing to drive us over the 140 hot miles between Kimberley and Vryburg for the sum of £ 1 9 — feeding his own horses. This was a good offer, and we at once closed with it. Next morning on the market we bought a stout pair of South African horses (ponies would be nearer the mark), greys, at .£30 the pair, and a smart little chestnut at £ 1 3 ; and in the afternoon, all being ready, we spanned in Reinegger's four greys and our own pair, fastened up the chestnut alongside one of the middle pair — where he trotted gaily enough — and set off along the Barkly Road. We had expected pre liminary difficulties with the mixed team of six, but rather to our surprise, after a few plunges, the greys all settled well together, and for the remainder of the journey we had no sort of trouble with them.

I need not dwell on our interesting drive across the fiat plains of Griqualand AVest, and through the plea sant grassy veldt and over the gentle undulations of Southern Bechuanaland. My first impressions of the Cape had been gained among the arid and peculiar vegetation of the Great Karroo, where Angora goats, sheep, and ostriches were the mainstays of the farm ing population, or amid the wild mountain interiors of the Eastern Province. Here in Griqualand West and Bechuanaland vast expanses of long grass every where met the eye — chequered occasionally by Vaal bush or acacia thorn — herds of cattle were to be seen grazing contentedly, and it was at once evident that we were passing into a great cattle country. It was a pleasant thing to learn, as we did at Thorn Grove — Mr. Muller's homestead — on our road, that game in Griqualand, thanks to preservation and a close season, is looking up again.

Koodoo, hartebeest, springbok, vaal and rooi rhebok, duyker, and steinbok are all to be found on farms in this part of Cape Colony. We left Kimberley in the afternoon of the 29th January. Moving steadily along, we passed Taungs — a large native town of the Batlapings under Manko roane — on the 31st, and on the following day, shortly before noon, from a high undulation of the veldt, we beheld Vryburg, the capital of British Bechuana land, lying not far below us. Vryburg is not an imposing place ; indeed, even now that the railway has reached it, it is a mere glorified village, and I am bound to confess that our first impression of it was a disappointing one. At the distance of three or four miles from where we stood, the tiny collection of white or corrugated iron houses, dotted upon a wave of the vast plain, looked for all the world like a good-sized agricultural show at home.

The railway from Kimberley (which, begun in 1890, proceeded at a phenomenal rate, and reached Vryburg in the autumn of that year) had not at this time made much impression upon the quiet and uneventful life of this primitive up-country town. The post cart, passing through once a week to the north, or the advent of an occasional traveller, were all that happened to break the drowsy monotony of the place. At the end of 1890 all this had changed. Creeping gradually like a snake over the smooth plains, the railroad had arrived ; the early excitement of it had passed away ; the natives, at first all amaze ment, now viewed the passage of trains with amused indifference ; and, worst of all for Vryburg, a vile collection of thieves, drunkards, gamblers, broken men and desperadoes — most of them the scum of the Transvaal — had drifted here from depressed mining communities such as Johannesburg, Klerks dorp, and Barberton, in hopes of a temporary boom, and the erst sleepy village had become, temporarily, a hell upon the veldt.

January and December of 1890 at Vryburg were indeed in sharp and un pleasant contrast. Shortly after noon we drove into the little town and outspanned at the Vryburg Hotel, a corrugated iron building, not differing greatly in its scant luxury and accommodation from other South African hostelries. As I remember it, and as most travellers will remember it in those days, the most conspicuous object of the broad, sandy main street was the white helmet (encircled by a blood-red puggaree, and glaring painfully in the strong sunlight) of a well known advocate. The advocate, like his helmet, " a burning and a shining light to all that place," was ever the first to welcome the toil-worn traveller — from His Excellency the High Commissioner down wards — and extend to him the hearty hospitality of the then sparse population.

In those early days the same dazzling headpiece was the prime focus and rallying point of gossip and narrative. Its owner could be relied upon to decide authoritatively whether Vrouw A. had been brought to bed of her twelfth or thirteenth child, how it was that B. had fallen into C.'s well overnight on his way home, how much Jew X. had won from German Z. on Sunday morning at solo whist, when the Afrikander Bond was to open the campaign in the district, or upon whose farm the latest gold discovery had been made. The scandals, harangues, quips, cranks, and odd sayings of the white-helmeted advocate were in truth, in those days, very meat and drink to the Vryburgers. Business matters detained me in Vrybura; for some few days, during which time Mackay and I made the acquaintance of most of the inhabitants and received much hospitality.

One of the funniest functions we assisted at during our stay was an extempore concert at the Vryburg Hotel, in which a famous Bechuana land song, " The Stellaland Brigade," was a principal item. The song deals with events just prior to Warren's expedition, and is written from the loyal Stellalander's point of view. Stellaland, I should remind the reader, was the title of the Republic, or soi-disant Republic, erected by the filibusters prior to the advent of the British Government. Here is the chorus, which will sufficiently indicate its style : — " Then shout, boys, shout, and don't you be afraid, To-night we'll all be marching in the Stellaland brigade ; So bundle tip your haversacks and go it while you can, To hell with the Lime Juice Parliament,1 we'll fight for Mankoroane."2 The song has a catching swing and a rousing chorus, and is still sung with great eclat at festive meetings in Bechuanaland.

It has now of course lost its old political significance, and the lame metre and rather questionable taste of some of the verses are pardoned for the sake of a hearty, roystering air. At the impromptu concert I write of, not the least interesting fact to me was that some of the original Stellalanders — now loyal subjects of the Queen — sat in our midst and joined heartily in the func tion. One of them, a Transvaal Dutchman, now an official of the town, was first despatched by the filibusters, then gathered on the Transvaal border, to spy out the land and fix upon a site for the new Stellaland township. This was in 1882, and Mr. Barend Fourie — who will, I know, forgive my men tioning his name — at once drove across the veldt and selected the present site of the town, mainly on account of its ample water supply, and called it in Dutch Vrij burg, which has since become famous and anglicised as Vryburg.

Well ! we had a merry evening ; the white-helmeted advocate was in great form, and made us shriek with laughter by rendering various English music-hall songs in a unique way of his own (he was an Afri kander, but had made the grand tour) ; Mackay, who is a master of the instrument, had his banjo, and I assisted in a lesser degree. South Africa in general and Stellaland in par- 1 An opprobrious term for the Cape House of Assembly. 2 The Chief of this part of the country, from whom the Stellalanders got their land titles. ticular are countries where conviviality is carried to a rather inordinate degree, and I can testify that at Vryburg some of the performances with the whisky bottle rather opened the eyes of my comrade and myself. At a later period of the year, when the railway came up, I have been informed by experts that the drinking capacities of Vryburg surpassed even those of Kimberley and Johannesburg in their wildest days.

Certain it is that drunkenness became horribly and unpleasantly rife. In spite of fines and imprisonments, the very salutary laws, prohibiting the sale of liquor to natives, were daily and hourly evaded, and natives were constantly to be found as drunk as their white brethren. While upon this topic, I am bound to say, however, that in Bechuana land as a whole the native liquor laws are admirably kept and enforced, to the immense comfort and welfare of the Bechuana population. The splendid climate of this territory and the healthy open-air life tend greatly to mitigate the ill effects of over indulgence in stimulants, and alcohol is undoubtedly taken with impunity in quantities that would quickly destroy the same man in the pent-up existence of an English city. None the less, at Vryburg, as in all other parts of South Africa, drink is a chief curse among a certain number of the inhabitants, and a very ill example is set before ignorant natives, who are yet expected to acknowledge the much vaunted superiority of the white man.

There is not much to see in Vryburg ; one broad main street runs through the town — or village ; around this, in parallels and at right angles, are a few other streets, sparsely set with houses. Below the main street, a few hundred yards away, lies the spruit or watercourse — a respectable brook — which issues from a strong fountain of excellent clear water in a small stony kopje. At the top of a gentle rise above the main street are situated the Government offices — very humble erections — and the Adminis trator's residence, an equally unpretentious villa, quite unworthy of the high and responsible office held by Sir Sidney Shippard. The Border Police camp is upon the same low hill ; while on a small kopje at another end of the town is the prison, a well-built edifice of native stone — quite the most imposing in Vryburg or, indeed, all Bechuanaland.

Many of the houses, such as the Administrator's, are of brick, rough cast ; the majority of brick, cased and roofed with corrugated iron ; a very few of stone, which is procurable in any quantity, and of excellent quality, from a quarry about a mile away. The population in 1891 was, I think, all told, just under 1200. When I state that during 1890, almost whenever I walked up the gentle hill (quite a central part of the place) in the direction of the Adminis trator's house or the Government offices, I encountered a covey of partridges ; that in the main pool of the water spruit wild duck were occasionally to be shot ; that we hunted small buck with foxhounds, and shot partridges and hares within a half-mile of the Post Office and Court House ; and that snakes were not inconstant visitors in any quarter of the town, it will be gathered that this metropolis of Bechuana land is yet in its infancy, and its census a thing of easy accomplishment.

Away to the south-east, towards the Transvaal border, the long bold range of the Marokani Hills heaves in a deep blue line from the vast expanse of plain. Upon every other hand save to the north west, where a single hill — Massouw's Kop — can be distinguished, broad rolling grassy plains stretch far as the eye can reach. The new railway station lies to the eastward of the town, about three-quarters of a mile from the Court House, which, with the Post Office, stands in about the centre of the main street. At present Vryburg is bare, shadeless, and unlovely. There are a few blue gum-trees planted here and there, all of which are thriving, as they always thrive in South Africa, vigorously. And, thanks to the care and forethought of the resident magistrate, a piece of land by the watercourse has been set apart as a small public park or garden of the future.

Here are planted a number of trees, shrubs, and flowers, a small lake has been clammed in, and all promises well. But hitherto private enterprise has done little towards breaking the bare monotony of this city of the plain. Some day, when trees, which are cheap enough, have been planted, a proper water-supply has been en sured, and watercourses laid along the streets, some relief may be looked for, some mitigation of the present hopeless glare during the long dry months of African winter. Marico, not very far across the border, in the Transvaal (although a town planted and reared by unprogressive Boers), may be cited as an example of what a South African upcountry town should be, whether aesthetically or economically considered. Perhaps some day, when -the people of Vryburg, and Mafeking also, can find time to turn their attention that way, these places may be found planted, beautified, and embowered in gardens.

At present, as in most South African towns, the European inhabitants are in far too great a hurry to make their pile and get away from the country. This regretable habit has gone far to retard all real progress in South Africa, and the bulk of voting and therefore of political strength remains, properly enough, with the Dutch, who stick to the soil and look upon this fair land as their home and abiding place. Already the Dutch farmers are creeping into Bechuanaland, filling up the farms and preparing their future homes. Unless the British make up their minds to settle down and people this promising territory, the Boers will presently have here, as they have in the Cape Colony, the balance of power in their own hands. I have neither space nor inclination in this book to refer to the recent history of Southern Bechuana land, during those anxious and unsettled times when the freebooters were overrunning the country ; when it seemed that England had relinquished all interest in the territories beyond the Vaal, and was prepared to see the trade route to the interior finally blocked by President Kruger.

Where, it may be asked, if the cold fit had been persevered in and the advice of certain politicians had been followed, would have been our present fair possessions in Bechuanaland, our illimitable pro spective cattle lands in the Kalahari, our enormous interests in Khama's country, Mashonaland, Zam besia, Ngamiland, and the rest of them ? Echo may well, with a blush, answer where ? Three men saved Bechuanaland for the British ; the Rev. John Mackenzie, who came home and first stirred up public opinion in the critical months of 1884; the late Mr. W. E. Forster, who first recognised the vital importance of Mackenzie's views and at once set about bringing his great influence to bear upon Government and the House of Commons ; and Sir Charles Warren, who most ably conducted the expedition Jo Bechuanaland, routed out the hornet's nest of freebooters and filibusters, settled the country, and brought it without a blow, and in a few short months, within the Queen's peace.

I assert unhesitatingly that, but for these three men, the Transvaal Government and not the British would at the present moment be masters of the interior of Southern Africa. Since Warren's expedition English influence has resumed its old position — all but ruined by the Boer war — and is becoming widened and deepened as the native races note our restored prestige, and the remote frontier Boers see what the English really can do towards governing and opening up a country. I am not an anti-Boer. I admire these sturdy farmers of the wilderness as much as any man ; but I hold that British government and British progress are better things for South Africa as a whole than a Boer government and Boer ideas.1 I strolled one morning, among other rambles of discovery, down to a reedy pool near the head of the watercourse, just above the town.

Here wrere many interesting birds to be seen, foremost among them being the remarkable orange-shouldered bunting or Kaffrarian grosbeak ( Vidua Phcenicop tera of Swainson). This curious bird is found 1 "Austral Africa ; Losing it, or Ruling it," by John Mackenzie, is well worth the reader's attention. It deals largely with the history of Bechuanaland between 1880-85, and presents many curious pictures of life, policy, and events in those days. abundantly in the Eastern Province of Cape Colony and in Kaffraria, but I have never seen mention of it in books dealing with the interior. Andersson's "Birds of Damaraland" makes no reference to it. I found it abundantly in many parts of British Bechuanaland, usually near water and mealie gardens, or water and long grass or reeds, where cover w7as to be found.

The male bird in breeding plumage is of a deep glossy black, having large patches or shoulder-knots of the most brilliant red. He sports soft, broad, and enormously long tail-feathers, which hinder him to such an extent that he is utterly powerless to fly against the wind. It is most amusing to see these birds get up and wriggle against a fair breeze. They look in their struggles for all the world like huge feathered tadpoles, and finally, giving it up as a bad job, go down to cover again. In length they average from 20 to 22 inches, of which the tail occupies from 16 to 17 inches. Even in the absence of wind they are very helpless, and cannot fly far. They are easily shot, and form an interest ing and extremely handsome trophy for the collector. The hen birds and young males are yellowish brown in colour, having black and brown-edged wings, while the shoulder patch is of a brilliant orange in place of crimson.