the animal over on its side. Luckily its fall was checked in time to prevent it slipping over the rocks, and it lay on a flat space of only four or five feet wide, a precipice of 150 feet on one side of it, and the projection against which it had struck on the other. Quick as thought, Mr. Grey flung himself upon its head, and by his weight kept it from rising, while the animal struggled violently, hanging in mid air over the ravine. Anxious for the fate of his favourite, Mr. Grey luckily conceived the idea of cutting the girths of the saddle, which then with its load rolled over the precipice, and fell with a heavy crash in the torrent far down below. Warned by this misfortune, they took another turn in the path, and the remainder of the horses and their loads reached the tableland in safety.
In their journey to the south, the ponies and sheep died one by one, and the sufferings of the party from their toil and the climate were severe. The natives hovered about them for some time, and at length ventured to attack them, but the attack was at first warned off by the mere terror and astonishment which the explorers inspired by firing off their guns. On another occasion a more serious encounter took place. Having gone out with a corporal named Coles, and a Cape man, to determine the next day's route, Mr. Grey was calling to one of his party, when suddenly he saw him close beside him, breathless and speechless with terror, for he was unarmed, and a native with a spear fixed in his throwing-stick, appeared in full pursuit of him. Immediately numbers of other natives burst upon his sight. A moment before, the most solemn silence had pervaded the woods around them; they had deemed
