Cattle in vast numbers are slaughtered apparently as sacrifices among the Zulu tribes on great occasions; thus we are told that on the election of Lo Benguela, whose name has been so prominently before the world of late, as king of the Matabele, his first act of sovereignty was to superintend the slaughter of cattle brought as an offering to him. 'Each tribe contributed a small troop, and from each lot six, ten, or a dozen were selected. The black were killed first; then the black and white speckled; and lastly, the coloured ones. The first were offered to the manes of his father; the second, to the Molimo or Great Spirit; and the rest for other purposes. The king made a short speech as he pointed out each victim; and then the sacrificer, holding his assegai just as one would hold a pin, placed its point low down behind the shoulder blade, where it does not spoil the skin for a shield, assuring himself by a gentle titillating motion that it was rightly directed.' *

What a coronation ceremony, and what an idea it gives us of the sanguinary character of these dusky kings and the despotic power they wield over their subjects. 'Of course,' Baines continues, 'the slaughter of so many oxen in so confined a space was a work of difficulty, especially when some had fallen, and the rest maddened by the sight and smell of blood, made frantic efforts to escape, but there was no confusion. The place where the king had dismounted was kept clear by a circle of Majokkas, bound in honour to die upon the spot rather than let him be incommoded; others formed rings round each lot of cattle, and when two heaps had fallen, and there was no room for more in the kotla, the rest were killed outside, as the king successively devoted them. In the evening the carcases were skinned and cut up, and next day the king distributed the meat to his newly-acquired subjects.'

Mr. Baines has also given us the mode of cooking and serving the slaughtered oxen. 'A couple of earthen cauldrons were simmering on the fire, and a stalwart warrior approaching these, took off the lids, drove a sharp stick into a filthy-looking mass, and finding it sufficiently cooked, harpooned and hauled out the contents, and heaped them on two great wooden dishes, laying on each some twigs that had been boiled with the meat as charms against evil influence. The cook now intoned the praises of the king, the hungry warriors joining in the chorus. One of these vessels shaped its course towards us, steered by the kneeling functionary, and he, drawing his knife, cut off large slices from which we pared the filthy outside, and found the remainder excellent. The king's supper was now ready, his "plate" was laid on the waggon chest, and his knife and fork, supplied only for himself. He invited us to draw out our own and use them freely.' *

* Baines's 'Gold Regions of South-Eastern Africa,' p. 35.

The hecatombs of this African despot throw into the shade the sacrifices of more civilised peoples, for these might be counted by units, as for example AEneas says: -

'The sacrifices laid On smoking altars to the gods he paid. A bull to Neptune, an oblation due, Another bull to bright Apollo slew, A milk-white ewe the western winds to please, And one coal-black to calm the stormy seas.'

In the sacrifices of the Hebrews also one or two bullocks sufficed, but it would seem from the account of Josephus, that the table of Solomon was supplied almost as liberally as that of Lo Benguela. Speaking of the tributes collected by his officers, he says: 'Now these contributed to the king's table, and to his supper every day, thirty cori of fine flour, and sixty of meal; as also ten fat oxen, and twenty oxen out of the pastures, and a hundred fat lambs; all these were besides what were taken by hunting harts and buffaloes, and birds and fishes which were brought to the king by foreigners day by day.'

* Baines's 'Gold Regions of South-Eastern Africa,' p. 36.

By this it may be seen that men of all colours and in all ages have thought the ox a fit offering for the gods, probably because they have themselves loved the savoury meat, for as Livingstone says of the Makololo, 'They have abundance of game, but in their opinion, which I am sure every Englishman will endorse, there is nothing equal to roast beef.'

At present it must be allowed that as an article of food beef is better understood and more appreciated among English people than on the Continent, where the tasteless pieces of beef which have been used to make the bouillon are invariably served with sauce of various kinds, and the bifsteak, so called in honour of the famous English dish, is often a piece of very coarse buffalo, or of some tough old ox which has fulfilled his term of days at the yoke. Beefsteak, or to speak more correctly, rumpsteak, is only to be had in perfection in London, for it would seem as though country butchers had not learnt the secret of the proper cut. A rumpsteak grilled in a London eating-house is not to be surpassed as a savoury dish, and may be eaten with fried onions or oyster sauce, according to taste. It often surprises colonists that they cannot obtain here the piece especially prized by them, and known in South Africa as the hump, but either our oxen are destitute of that appendage, or our butchers cut the carcase differently.

The consumption of beef is now so great that our native supply has to be largely supplemented by the cattle reared on ranches in America and New Zealand, either brought over frozen or in tins. Chicago, the chief tinning manufactory, is supplied with oxen in such profusion that they are described as forming a constant stream moving ever onwards up an inclined plain to be killed when they reach the top; being skinned, cut up, and tinned immediately, almost entirely by machinery.

Since the introduction of diner a, la Russe, the great joints which formerly appeared on our dinner, supper, and breakfast tables have almost disappeared. We no longer see, except in cooks' shops, the great salted rump, formerly a famous breakfast dish; and the baron is reserved for the Queen's table, whilst the sirloin no longer appears entire, but is cut into several pieces to suit the requirements of the household. Doubtless, we lose much of the juices and flavour of the meat in these small joints, but the national taste has become of late more assimilated to that of the French, and prefers made dishes to the simple cut-and-come-again joints of our ancestors. It would appear that at Christmas in the olden days the great boar's head, eaten with mustard, held the first place; then came the peacock in his plumes, and geese, capons, "pheasants drenched with ambergrease," and pies of carps' tongues.

Of these savoury dishes many have disappeared from the modern menu, whilst some are retained in the form of survival, and amongst the latter is the boar's head, which, in its ancient and natural form, is no longer seen amongst us except at the Queen's table, and perhaps on that of some other princes and potentates, but the ancient dish is still imitated by our cooks in forcemeat, and at almost every supper at Christmastide holds a conspicuous place, brown and glazed, with long, curved, white tusks of some composition, lemon in mouth, and buttered adornments, altogether a travesty of that great cruel beast, the pursuit of which has in all ages been deemed such noble sport, which formed the standing dish of Scandinavian heroes, in the Valhalla to which they aspired, and of which the ancient Romans were so fond, that it is related of Anthony that eight wild boars were usually roasted for his supper, not that they were all served and consumed at once, but they were held in various stages of preparation, that one might be ready whenever called for. The mode of dressing this boar appears to have have been to roast it stuffed with game and poultry. Horace writes of -

'A Lucanian boar of tender kind, Caught, says our host, in a soft southern wind; Around him lay whatever could excite, With pungent force, the jaded appetite; Rapes, lettuce, radishes, anchovy brine, With skerrets, and the lees of coan wine.'

The modern Romans still love the flesh of the wild boar, and I have eaten it in Italy served up with a sauce, the chief ingredients of which were raisins and the kernels of pine cones, but the flesh of the Roman wild boar is lean and hard, and can scarcely rival that of the domestic porker, well fatted, and served with apple sauce in the old English style. But in various parts of Europe the wild boar still affords excellent sport, and heads from these sometimes find their way to England. It was probably to one of these that the anecdote of Solomon Hart, the Jewish R.A., related in 'Frith's Reminiscences,' applies - 'On the occasion of a visit of a party of artists to Preston Hall, the pleasant seat of Mr. Betts, they were entertained, as always, in baronial fashion. At one of the splendid banquets for which hospitable Mr. Betts was famous, a huge boar's head, with the usual garniture, was placed upon the table. Hart was said to have looked longingly at it, when he exclaimed, "Almost thou persuadest me to be a Christian."'

It would appear from 'The Book of Days' that in olden times the boar's head garnished with bay and rosemary, and heralded by trumpets, was borne to the king's table on a dish of gold or silver by the server, followed by a long procession of nobles, knights, and ladies. The same book gives the origin of the custom of serving this ancient dish at Queen's College, Oxford, to a variation of the old carol. This arose from the presence of mind of a student of the college, who, when studying Aristotle in Shotover Forest, encountered a wild boar, which rushed at him open-mouthed, whereupon the scholar thrust the book down the creature's throat, thus 'choking the savage with the sage.' The carol used in serving the boar's head ran -

'"Caput apri defero Reddens laudes Domino." The boar's head in hand bring I With garlands gay and rosemary; I pray you all sing merrily Qui estis in convivio.

'The boar's head, I understand, Is the chief service in this land; Look wherever it be found, Servite cum cantico.

' Be glad, both more and less, For this hath ordained our steward, To cheer you all this Christmas - The boar's head and mustard ! "Caput apri defero Reddens laudes Domino."'