h by impecunious relations； disease； care； and every horror。 The hare is not hunted half so much or half so endlessly。 However； anyway； I have not chevied a hare since I was nine； and that only on my two little legs； all alone！
Yours ever；
A。 Lang。
If I were the Red…faced Man I’d say that from the beginning all my forbears were hunters； that it got into the blood； and went out of the blood with advancing age； so that perhaps it might go out altogether； though I hardly think it will。 And ask WHO made it so！
By some chance there is a copy of my answer to this letter； also of two subsequent ones which deal with what might have been a business matter。
October 19； 1911。
My dear Andrew； — Yes； I have hinted at this hunting of Man on p。 135； and at a probable reason。 You are right： hunted we are； and by a large pack！ Still I don’t know that this justifies us in hunting other things。 At any rate the idea came to me and I expressed it。 But I might as well have kept it to myself。 I doubt whether the papers will touch the thing： to notice an attack on blood sports might not be popular！
As one grows old； I think the sadness of the world impresses one more and more。 If there is nothing beyond it is indeed a tragedy。 But； thank Heaven！ I can’t think that。 I think it less and less。 I am engaged on writing （for publication AFTER I have walked “the Great White Road”） my reminiscences of my early life in Africa； etc。 It is a sad job。 There before me are the letters from those dear old friends of my youth； Shepstone； Osborn； Clarke and many others； and nearly every one of them is dead！ But I don’t believe that I shall never see them more； indeed I seem to grow nearer to them。
When I was a lad at Scoones’ I had an intimate friend name