mountain," I asked, "except through that drain?"

"There is a place," he answered, "where cattle and men on foot may cross
with much labour, but it is secret. A year mightest thou search and
shouldst never find it. It is only used once a year, when the herds of
cattle that have been fatting on the slopes of the mountain, and on this
plain, are driven into the space within."

"And does _She_ live there always?" I asked, "or does she come at times
without the mountain?"

"Nay, my son, where she is, there she is."

By now we were well on to the great plain, and I was examining with
delight the varied beauty of its semi-tropical flowers and trees, the
latter of which grew singly, or at most in clumps of three or four, much
of the timber being of large size, and belonging apparently to a variety
of evergreen oak. There were also many palms, some of them more than one
hundred feet high, and the largest and most beautiful tree ferns that
I ever saw, about which hung clouds of jewelled honeysuckers and
great-winged butterflies. Wandering about among the trees or crouching
in the long and feathered grass were all varieties of game, from
rhinocerotes down. I saw a rhinoceros, buffalo (a large herd), eland,
quagga, and sable antelope, the most beautiful of all the bucks, not
to mention many smaller varieties of game, and three ostriches which
scudded away at our approach like white drift before a gale. So
plentiful was the game that at last I could stand it no longer. I had
a single barrel sporting Martini with me in the litter, the "Express"
being too cumbersome, and espying a beautiful fat eland rubbing himself
under one of the oak-like trees, I jumped out of the litter, and