Produced by Nick Hodson of London, England




The Young Yagers
A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa
By Captain Mayne Reid
Published by Ticknor and Fields, Boston, USA
This edition dated 1857

The Young Yagers, by Captain Mayne Reid.

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THE YOUNG YAGERS, BY CAPTAIN MAYNE REID.



CHAPTER ONE.

THE CAMP OF THE YOUNG YAGERS.

Near the confluence of the two great rivers of Southern Africa--the
_Yellow_ and _Orange_--behold the camp of the "young yagers!"

It stands upon the southern bank of the latter stream, in a grove of
Babylonian willows, whose silvery foliage, drooping gracefully to the
water's edge, fringes both shores of the noble river as far as the eye
can reach.

A tree of rare beauty is this _Salix Babylonica_--in gracefulness of
form scarce surpassed even by the palms, the "princes of the forest."
In our land, as we look upon it, a tinge of sadness steals over our
reflections.  We have grown to regard it as the emblem of sorrow.  We
have named it the "weeping willow," and draped the tomb with its soft
pale fronds, as with a winding-sheet of silver.

Far different are the feelings inspired by the sight of this beautiful
tree amid the _karoos_ of Southern Africa.  That is a land where springs
and streams are "few and far between;" and the _weeping_ willow--sure
sign of the presence of water--is no longer the emblem of sorrow, but
the symbol of joy.

Joy reigns in the camp under its shade by the banks of the noble Orange
River, as is proved by the continuous peals of laughter that ring clear
and loud upon the air, and echo from the opposite shores of the stream.

Who are they that laugh so loudly and cheerfully?  _The young yagers_.

And who are the young yagers?

Let us approach their camp and see for ourselves.  It is night, but the
blaze of the camp-fire will enable us to distinguish all of them, as
they are all seated around it.  By its light we can take their
portraits.

There are six of them--a full "set of six," and not one appears to be
yet twenty years of age.  They are all boys between the ages of ten and
twenty--though two or three of them, and, maybe, more than that number,
think themselves quite men.

Three of the party you will recognise at a glance as old acquaintances.
They are no other than Hans, Hendrik, and Jan, our _ci-devant_
"Bush-boys."

It is several years since we saw them last, and they have grown a good
deal since then; but none of them has yet reached the full stature of
manhood.  Though no longer "Bush-boys," they are yet only boys; and Jan,
who used to be called "little Jan," still merits and receives that
distinctive appellation.  It would stretch Jan to his utmost to square
off against a four-foot measuring-stick; and he could only manage it by
standing upon the very tips of his toes.

Hans has grown taller, but, perhaps, thinner and paler.  For two years
he has been at college, where he has been very busy with his books, and
has greatly distinguished himself by carrying off the first prizes in
everything.  Upon Hendrik there is a decided change.  He has outgrown
his elder brother both in length and breadth, and comes very near
looking like a full-grown man.  He is yet but eighteen years old,
straight as a rush, with a decided military air and gait.  The last is
not to be wondered at, as Hendrik has now been a cornet in the Cape
Mounted Rifles for more than a year, and still holds that commission, as
may be learnt by looking at his forage-cap, with its golden embroidery
over the peak.  So much for our old acquaintances the "Bush-boys!"

But who are the other three that share with them the circle of the
camp-fire?  Who are their companions? for they are evidently on terms of
companionship, and friendship too.  Who are they?  A word or two will
tell that.  They are the _Van Wyks_.  The three sons of Diedrik Van Wyk.

And who, then, is Diedrik Van Wyk?  That must also be explained.
Diedrik is a very rich boor--a "vee-boor"--who every night shuts up
within his spacious _kraals_ more than three thousand horses and horned
cattle, with five times that number of sheep and goats!  In fact,
Diedrik Van Wyk is accounted the richest vee-boor, or grazier, in all
the Graaf Reinet.

Now the broad _plaatz_, or farm, of Diedrik Van Wyk lies contiguous to
that of our old acquaintance, Hendrik Von Bloom; and it so chances that
Hendrik and Diedrik are fast friends and inseparable companions.  They
see each other once a-day, at the least.  Every evening Hendrik rides
over to the "kraal" of Diedrik, or Diedrik to that of Hendrik, to enjoy
a smoke together out of their ponderous pipes of meerschaum, or a
"zoopje" of _brandewyn_ distilled from their own peaches.  They are, in
fact, a pair of regular old comrades,--for Van Wyk in early life has
seen military service as well as Von Bloom,--and, like all old soldiers,
they love to repeat their camp stories, and "fight their battles o'er
again."

Under such circumstances it is not to be wondered at, that the children
of both should be intimate acquaintances.  But, in addition to the
friendship of their fathers, there is a tie of relationship between the
two families,--the two mothers were cousins,--so that the children are
what is usually termed second cousins,--a very interesting sort of
affinity.  And it is not an unlikely thing that the relationship between
the families of Von Bloom and his friend Van Wyk may one day become
still closer and more interesting; for the former has for his daughter,
as all the world knows, the beautiful flaxen-haired cherry-cheeked
Truey, while the latter is the father of the pretty brunette
Wilhelmina--also an only daughter.  Now there chance to be three boys in
each family; and though both boys and girls are by far too young to
think of getting married yet, there are suspicions abroad that the
families of Von Bloom and Van Wyk will, at no very distant day, be
connected by a double marriage--which would not be displeasing to either
of the old comrades, Hendrik and Diedrik.

I have said there are three boys in each family.  You already know the
Von Blooms, Hans, Hendrik, and Jan.  Allow me to introduce you to the
Van Wyks.  Their names are Willem, Arend, and Klaas.

Willem is the eldest, and, though not yet eighteen, is quite a man in
size.  Willem is, in fact, a boy of very large dimensions, so large that
he has received the _sobriquet_ of "Groot Willem" (Big William)
therefrom.  All his companions call him "Groot Willem."  But he is
strong in proportion to his size,--by far the strongest of the young
yagers.  He is by no means tidy in his dress.  His clothes, consisting
of a big jacket of homespun cloth, a check shirt, and an enormously wide
pair of leathern trousers, hang loosely about him, and make him look
larger than he really is.  Even his broad-brimmed felt hat has a
slouching set upon his head, and his _feldtschoenen_ are a world too
wide for his feet.

And just as easy as his dress is the disposition of the wearer.  Though
strong as a lion, and conscious of his strength, Groot Willem would not
harm a fly, and his kindly and unselfish nature makes him a favourite
with all.

Groot Willem is a mighty hunter, carries one of the largest of guns, a
regular Dutch "roer," and also an enormous powder-horn, and pouch full
of leaden bullets.  An ordinary boy would stagger under such a load, but
it is nothing to Groot Willem.

Now it may be remembered that Hendrik Von Bloom is also a "mighty
hunter;" and I shall just whisper that a slight feeling of rivalry--I
shall not call it jealousy, for they are good friends--exists between
these two Nimrods.  Hendrik's favourite gun is a rifle, while the roer
of Groot Willem is a "smooth bore;" and between the merits of these two
weapons camp-fire discussions are frequent and sharp.  They are never
carried beyond the limits of gentlemanly feeling, for loose and slovenly
as is Groot Willem in outward appearance, he is a gentleman within.

Equally a gentleman, but of far more taste and style, is the second
brother of the Van Wyks, Arend.  In striking appearance and manly beauty
he is quite a match for Hendrik Von Bloom himself, though in complexion
and features there is no resemblance between them.  Hendrik is fair,
while Arend is very dark-skinned, with black eyes and hair.  In fact,
all the Van Wyks are of the complexion known as "brunette," for they
belong to that section of the inhabitants of Holland sometimes
distinguished as "Black Dutch."  But upon Arend's fine features the hue
sits well, and a handsomer youth is not to be seen in all the Graaf
Reinet.  Some whisper that this is the opinion of the beautiful Gertrude
Von Bloom; but that can only be idle gossip, for the fair Truey is yet
but thirteen, and therefore can have no opinion on such a matter.
Africa, however, is an early country, and there _might_ be something in
it.

Arend's costume is a tasty one, and becomes him well.  It consists of a
jacket of dressed antelope-skin,--the skin of the springbok; but this,
besides being tastefully cut and sewed, is very prettily embroidered
with slashes of beautiful leopard-skin, while broad bands of the same
extend along the outside seams of the trousers, from waist to ankle,
giving to the whole dress, a very rich and striking effect.  Arend's
head-dress is similar to that worn by Hendrik Von Bloom, viz: a military
forage-cap, upon the front of which are embroidered in gold bullion a
bugle and some letters; and the explanation of that is, that Arend, like
his second cousin, is a cornet in the Cape Rifles, and a dashing young
soldier he is.

Now the portrait of Klaas in pen and ink.--Klaas is just Jan's age and
Jan's exact height, but as to circumference therein exists a great
difference.  Jan, as you all know, is a thin, wiry little fellow, while
Klaas, on the contrary, is broad, stout, and burly.  In fact, so stout
is he, that Jan repeated two and a half times would scarce equal him in
diameter!

Both wear cloth roundabouts and trousers, and little broad-brimmed hats;
both go to the same school; and, though there is a considerable
difference between them in other respects, both are great boys for
bird-catching and all that sort of thing.  As they only carry small
shot-guns, of course they do not aspire to killing antelopes or other
large animals; but, small as their guns are, I pity the partridge,
guinea-hen, or even bustard, that lets either of them crawl within reach
of it.

Now it has been hinted that between the hunters Groot Willem and Hendrik
there is a slight feeling of rivalry in regard to matters of _venerie_.
A very similar feeling, spiced perhaps with a little bit of jealousy,
has long existed between the bird-catchers, and sometimes leads to a
little coolness between them, but that is usually of very short
duration.

Hans and Arend have no envious feelings--either of one another or of
anybody else.  Hans is too much of a philosopher: besides, the
accomplishment in which he excels, the knowledge of natural history, is
one in which he is without a rival.  None of the rest make any
pretensions to such knowledge; and the opinion of Hans on any matter of
science is always regarded as a final judgment.

As to Arend, he is not particularly proud of any acquirement.  Handsome,
brave, and generous, he is nevertheless a right modest youth,--a boy to
be beloved.

And now you know who are the _young yagers_.



CHAPTER TWO.

SWARTBOY THE BUSHMAN AND CONGO THE KAFFIR.

I have said that the young yagers were encamped on the southern bank of
the Great Orange River.  What were they doing there?  The spot they
occupied was many a long day's journey from their home in the Graaf
Reinet, and many a day's journey beyond the frontier of the Cape Colony.
There were no settlements near.  No white men ever wandered so far,
except an occasional "smouse," or trader--a class of men who extend
their bartering expeditions almost to the central parts of the African
Continent.  Sometimes, too, the "trek-boor," or nomade grazier, may have
driven his flocks to this remote place, but for all that it could not be
considered a settled country.  It was still a wilderness.

And what were the young Von Blooms and Van Wyks doing in the wilderness?
_Jaging_ to be sure, and nothing else,--they were simply out on a
hunting expedition.

It was an expedition that had been long talked of and planned.  Since
their grand hunt of the elephant, the "Bush-boys" had not followed any
game.  Hendrik had been with his regiment, and Hans and Jan busy with
their respective studies.  So with Arend Van Wyk as with Hendrik, and
Klaas as with Jan.  Groot Willem alone, from time to time, had been
jaging springboks and such other game as is to be found among the
settlements.  But the present was a grand expedition intended to be
carried far beyond the settled part of the colony--in fact, as far as
they thought fit to go.  The boys had received the full sanction of
their parents, and had been fitted out in proper style--each having a
good horse, and each three a large wagon to carry all their camp
utensils, and serve as a tent to sleep in.  Each wagon had its driver,
and full span of ten long-horned oxen; and these, with a small pack of
rough-looking _buck-dogs_, might be seen in the camp--the oxen tied to
the disselbooms of the wagons, and the dogs grouped in various attitudes
around the fire.  The horses were also fastened some to the wheels, and
others to trees that grew near.

Two other objects in the camp are well worthy of a word or two; in fact,
they are two individuals of very great importance to the expedition--as
without them the wagons would be a troublesome affair.  They are the
drivers of these vehicles, and each is as proud of his whip-craft as
Jehu could possibly have been of his.

In one of these drivers you will recognise an old acquaintance.  The
large head and high cheek-bones, with the flat spread nostrils between;
the small oblique Mongolian eyes; the short curly wool-knots, planted
sparsely over the broad skull; the yellow complexion; the thick "chunky"
form, scarce four feet in height, and sparely clad in red flannel shirt
and brown leathern "crackers;" with all these features and characters
before your mind, you cannot fail to recognise an old favourite--the
Bushman, _Swartboy_.

Swartboy it was; and, though several years have rolled over the
Bushman's bare head since we saw him last, there is no visible change
observable in Swartboy.  The thinly scattered "kinks" of browny black
wool still adorn Swartboy's crown and occiput, but they are no thinner--
the same good-natured grin is observed upon his yellow face--he is still
the same faithful servant--the same expert driver--the same useful
fellow that he ever was.  Swartboy, of course, drives the wagon of the
Von Blooms.

Now the driver of the Van Wyk vehicle is about as unlike Swartboy as a
bear to a bluebottle.

In the first place, he is above a third taller than the Bushman,
standing over six feet,--not in his stockings, for he never wears
stockings, but in sandals, which he does wear.

His complexion is darker than that of the Hottentot, although it is not
black, but rather of a bronze colour; and the hair of his head, although
somewhat "woolly," is longer than Swartboy's, and less inclined to _take
root at both ends_!  Where the line of Swartboy's nose is concave, that
of the other is convex, and the nose itself almost aquiline.  A dark
piercing eye, a row of white teeth regularly set, lips of moderate
thickness, a well-proportioned form, and erect attitude, give to this
individual, an aspect of grandeur and gravity, both of which are in
complete contrast with the comic picture presented by the short stout
body and grinning countenance of the Bushman.

The costume of the tall man has something graceful about it.  It
consists of a tunic-like skirt suspended around the waist and hanging
down to mid-thigh.  There is something peculiar in this skirt.  It has
the appearance of a fringe or drapery of long white hairs, not plaited
or woven, but hanging free and full.  It is, in fact, the true costume
of a savage; and consists simply of a number of antelope's tails--the
white tails of the gnoo--strung together around the waist, and allowed
to fall to their full length down the thighs.  A sort of "tippet" of the
same surrounding the shoulders, with copper rings on the ankles and
armlets encircling the wrist, a bunch of ostrich-feathers waving from
his crown, and a string of beads around his neck, complete the costume
of Congo the Kaffir--for to that nation of romantic savages belonged the
wagon-driver of the Van Wyks.

What! a Kaffir the driver of a wagon? you will exclaim.  You can hardly
realise the idea, that a Kaffir--a warrior, as you may deem him--could
be employed in so menial an office as wagon-driving!  But it is even so.
Many Kaffirs are so engaged in the Cape Colony,--indeed, many
thousands; and in offices of a more degrading kind than driving a wagon
team--which by the way, is far from being considered an unworthy
employment in South Africa, so far that the sons of the wealthiest boors
may often be seen mounted upon the voor-kist and handling the long
bamboo whip with all the ability of a practised "jarvey."  There is
nothing odd about Congo the Kaffir being wagon-driver to the Van Wyks.
He was a refugee, who had escaped from the despotic rule of the
blood-stained monster Chaaka.  Having in some way offended the tyrant,
he had been compelled to flee for his life; and, after wandering
southward, had found safety and protection among the colonists.  Here he
had learnt to make himself a useful member of civilised society, though
a lingering regard for ancient habits influenced him still to retain the
costume of his native country--the country of the Zooloo Kaffir.

No one could have blamed him for this; for, as he stood with his ample
leopard-skin _kaross_ suspended togalike from his shoulders, the silvery
skirt draping gracefully to his knees, and his metal rings glittering
under the blaze of the camp-fire, a noble picture he presented,--a
savage but interesting picture.  No one could blame Congo for wishing to
display his fine form in so becoming a costume.

And no one did.  No one was jealous of the handsome savage.

Yes,--one.  There was one who did not regard him with the most amiable
feelings.  There was a rival who could not listen to Congo's praise with
indifference.  One who liked not Congo.  That rival was Swartboy.  Talk
of the rivalry that existed between the hunters Hendrik and Groot
Willem, of that between Klaas and Jan.  Put both into one, and it would
still fall far short of the constant struggles for pre-eminence that
were exhibited between the rival "whips," Swartboy the Bushman, and
Congo the Kaffir.

Swartboy and Congo were the only servants with the expedition.  Cooks or
other attendants the young yagers had none.  Not but that the rich
landdrost,--for it must be remembered that Von Bloom was now chief
magistrate of his district,--and the wealthy boor could have easily
afforded a score of attendants upon each trio of hunters.  But there
were no attendants whatever beyond the two drivers.  This was not on the
score of economy.  No such thing.  It was simply because the old
soldiers, Hendrik Von Bloom and Diedrik Van Wyk, were not the men to
pamper their boys with too much luxury.

"If they must go a-hunting, let them rough it," said they; and so they
started them off, giving them a brace of wagons to carry their
_impedimenta_--and their spoils.

But the young yagers needed no attendance.  Each knew how to wait upon
himself.  Even the youngest could skin an antelope and broil its ribs
over the fire; and that was about all the cookery they would require
till their return.  The healthy stomach of the hunter supplies a sauce
more appetising than either Harvey or Soyer could concoct with all their
culinary skill.

Before arriving at their present camp the young yagers had been out
several weeks; but, although they had hunted widely, they had not fallen
in with any of the great game, such as giraffes, buffaloes, or
elephants; and scarce an adventure worth talking about.  A day or two
before a grand discussion had taken place as to whether they should
cross the great river, and proceed farther northward, in search of the
camelopard and elephant, or whether they should continue on the southern
side, jaging springboks, hartebeests, and several other kinds of
antelopes.  This discussion ended in a resolve to continue on to the
north, and remain there till their time was up,--the time of course
being regulated by the duration of college and school vacations, and
leave of absence from the "Corps."

Groot Willem had been the principal adviser of this course, and Hans his
backer.  The former was desirous of jaging the elephant, the buffalo,
and giraffe,--a sport at which he was still but a novice, as he had
never had a fair opportunity of hunting these mighty giants of the wood;
while Hans was equally desirous of an exploring expedition that would
bring him in contact with new forms of vegetable life.

Strange as it may appear, Arend threw in his vote for returning home;
and, stranger still, that the hunter Hendrik should join him in this
advice!

But almost every thing can be explained, if we examine it with care and
patience; and the odd conduct of the two "cornets" was capable of
explanation.

Hans slyly hinted that it was possible that a certain brunette,
Wilhelmina, might have something to do with Hendrik's decision; but
Groot Willem, who was a rough plain-spoken fellow, broadly alleged, that
it was nothing else than Truey that was carrying Arend's thoughts
homeward; and the consequence of these hints and assertions was, that
neither Hendrik nor Arend offered any further opposition to going
northward among the elephants, but, blushing red to the very eyes, both
were only too glad to give in their assent and terminate the discussion.

Northward then became the word:--northward for the land of the tall
giraffe and the mighty elephant!

The young yagers had arrived on the southern bank of the Orange River,
opposite to a well-known "drift," or crossing-place.  There chanced to
be a freshet in the river; and they had encamped, and were waiting until
the water should fall and the ford become passable.



CHAPTER THREE.

HOW CONGO CROSSED A "DRIFT."

Next morning, by break of day, our yagers were astir, and the first
object upon which they rested their eyes was the river.  To their joy it
had fallen several feet, as they could tell by the water-mark upon the
trees.

The streams of South Africa, like those of most tropical and
sub-tropical countries, and especially where the district is
mountainous, rise and fall with much greater rapidity than those of
temperate climes.  Their sudden rise is accounted for by the great
quantity of water which in tropical storms is precipitated within a
short period of time--the rain falling, not in light sparse drops, but
thick and heavy, for several hours together, until the whole surface of
the country is saturated, and every rivulet becomes a torrent.

Of these storms we have an exemplification in our summer
thunder-showers--with their big rain-drops, when in a few minutes the
gutter becomes a rivulet and the rut of the cartwheel a running stream.
Fortunately these "sunshiny" showers are of short duration.  They "last
only half-an-hour," instead of many hours.  Fancy one of them continuing
for a whole day or a week!  If such were to be the case, we should
witness floods as sudden and terrible as those of the tropics.

The quick fall in the streams of South Africa is easily accounted for--
the principal reason being that the clouds are their feeders, and not,
as with us, springs and lakes.  Tropic rivers rarely run from
reservoirs; the abrupt cessation of the rain cuts off their supply, and
the consequence is the sudden falling of their waters.  Evaporation by a
hot sun, and large absorption by the dry earth, combine to produce this
effect.  Now the young yagers saw that the "Gareep" (such is the native
name of the Orange River) had fallen many feet during the night; but
they knew not whether it was yet fordable.  Though the place was a
"drift" used by Hottentots, Bechuanas, traders, and occasionally
"trek-boors," yet none of the party knew any thing of its depth, now
that the freshet was on.  There were no marks to indicate the depth--no
means by which they could ascertain it.  They could not see the bottom,
as the water was of a yellow-brown colour, in consequence of the flood.
It might be three feet--it might be six--but as the current was very
rapid, it would be a dangerous experiment to wade in and measure its
depth in that way.

What were they to do then?  They were impatient to effect a crossing.
How were they to do so in safety?

Hendrik proposed that one of them should try the ford on horseback.  If
they could not wade it, they might swim over.  He offered to go himself.
Groot Willem, not to be outdone by Hendrik in daring, made a similar
proposal.  But Hans, who was the eldest of the party, and whose prudent
counsels were usually regarded by all, gave his advice against this
course.  The experiment would be too perilous, he said.  Should the
water prove too deep, the horses would be compelled to swim, and with so
rapid a current they might be carried far below the "drift,"--perhaps
down to where the banks were high and steep.  There they should not be
able to climb out, and both horse and rider might perish.

Besides, urged Hans, even should a rider succeed by swimming to reach
the opposite side in safety, the oxen and wagons could not get over in
that way, and where would be the use of crossing without _them_?  None
whatever.  Better, therefore, to wait a little longer until they should
be certain that the river had subsided to its usual level.  That they
could ascertain by the water ceasing to fall any further, and another
day would decide the point.  It would only be the loss of another day.

Hans's reasoning was good, and so was his counsel.  Hendrik and Groot
Willem acknowledged this, and agreed to act upon it; but for all that,
Groot Willem, who was longing to get among the giraffes, buffaloes, and
elephants, felt a strong desire to attempt the crossing; and Hendrik,
too, was similarly inclined, from the sheer love of adventure--for
Hendrik's fault was that of being over-courageous.

Both would have risked the river--even to swimming it--had it been
practicable for the teams to have crossed, but as that was not believed
possible, they agreed, though with rather a bad grace, to wait upon the
water another day.

But, after all, they were not to wait a day,--scarcely an hour.  In an
hour from that time they had crossed the drift--wagons, oxen, and all--
and were trekking over the plain on the opposite side!

What had led to their so suddenly changing their resolution?  How had
they ascertained that the drift was fordable?  For a knowledge of that
fact they were indebted to Congo the Kaffir.

While engaged in their discussion as to the depth of the river, the
latter had been observed standing upon the bank and throwing large
pebbles into the stream.  Thinking it was merely some freak or
superstition on the part of the savage, none of them had taken any
notice of him, Swartboy excepted.  The Bushman was watching the Kaffir,
with glances that bespoke a keen interest in his movements.

At length a loud scornful laugh, from Swartboy, accompanying a series of
rather rough phrases, directed the attention of the young yagers upon
the Kaffir.

"My footy, Congo! ole fool you! b'lieve you tell depth so? tink so, ole
skellum?  Ha! ha! ha! you bania groot ole humbug!  Ha! ha! ha!"

The Kaffir took no notice of this rather insulting apostrophe, but
continued to fling his pebbles as before; but the young yagers, who were
also watching him, noticed that he was not throwing them carelessly, but
in a peculiar manner, and their attention now became fixed upon him.

They saw that each time as the pebble parted from his fingers, he bent
suddenly forward, with his ear close to the surface, and in this
attitude appeared to listen to the "plunge" of the stone!  When the
sound died away, he would rise erect again, fling another pebble
_farther out than the last_, and then crouch and listen as before?

"What's the Kaffir about?" asked Hendrik of Groot Willem and Arend, who,
being his masters, were more likely to know.

Neither could tell.  Some Zooloo trick, no doubt; Congo knew many a one.
But what he meant by his present demonstration neither could tell.
Swartboy's conjecture appeared to be correct, the Kaffir was _sounding
the depth of the drift_.

"Hilloa, there!  Congo!" cried Groot Willem.  "What are ye after, old
boy?"

"Congo find how deep drift be, baas Willem," was the reply.

"Oh! you can't tell that way; can you?"

The Kaffir made answer in the affirmative.

"Bah!" ejaculated Swartboy, jealous of the interest his rival was
beginning to excite; "da's all nonsense; ole fool know noffin 't all
'bout it,--dat he don't."

The Kaffir still took no notice of Swartboy's gibes--though they no
doubt nettled him a little--but kept on casting the pebbles, each one,
as already stated, being flung so as to fall several feet beyond the one
that preceded it.  He continued at this, until the last pebble was seen
to plunge within a yard or two of the opposite side of the current, here
more than a hundred yards wide.  Then raising himself erect, and turning
his face to the young yagers, he said in firm but respectful tones--

"Mynheeren, you drift may cross--now."

All regarded him with incredulous glances.

"How deep think you it is?" inquired Hans.  The Kaffir made answer by
placing his hands upon his hips.  It would reach so high.

"My footy!" exclaimed Swartboy, in derision.  "It's twice dar depth.  Do
you want drown us, ole fool?"

"May drown _you_--nobody else!" quietly replied the Kaffir, at the same
time measuring Swartboy with his eye, and curling his lip in derision of
the Bushman's short stature.

The young yagers burst out into a loud laugh.  Swartboy felt the sting,
but for some moments was unable to retort.

At length he found words--

"All talk, you ole black, all talk!  You make groot show,--you berry
wise,--you want wagon sweep off,--you want drown da poor oxen,--you
pretend so deep.  If tink so, go wade da drift,--go wade yourself!  Ha!"

Swartboy thought by this challenge he had put the finisher on the
Kaffir.  He believed that the latter would not dare to try the ford, in
spite of his assertion about its depth.  But Swartboy was doomed to
disappointment and humiliation.

Scarcely had he uttered the sneering challenge when the Kaffir, having
bent a glance upon the rest, and seeing, that they regarded him with
looks of expectation, turned round and dashed down the bank to the edge
of the water.

All saw that he was bent upon crossing.  Several of them uttered cries
of warning, and cautioned him to desist.

But the Zooloo spirit was roused, and the savage did not heed the
warning cries.  He did not hurry madly into the current, however; but
set about the business with caution and design.  They saw him stoop down
by the edge of the water, and the next moment rise erect again, holding
in his hands a large stone that could not have weighed much less than a
hundredweight.  This, to the astonishment of all, he raised upon the
crown of his head, and, holding it in that position, marched boldly into
the water!

All saw the object of his carrying the stone,--which was, of course, to
enable him by its additional weight to stem the strong current!  In this
he was quite successful, for although the water at certain places rose
quite to his waist, in less than five minutes he stood high and dry on
the opposite bank.

A cheer greeted him, in which all but Swartboy joined, and another
received him on his return; and then the oxen were inspanned, and the
horses saddled and mounted, and wagons, oxen, dogs, horses, and yagers,
all crossed safely over, and continued their route northward.



CHAPTER FOUR.

A BRACE OF "BLACK MANES."

If the young yagers had met with but few adventures south of the Gareep,
they were not long north of it before they fell in with one of
sufficient interest to be chronicled.  It occurred at their very first
camp after crossing.

They had chosen for their camp the side of a "vley," in the midst of a
wide plain, where there chanced to be both grass and water, though both
of a rather indifferent kind.  The plain was tolerably open, though here
and there grew clumps of low bushes, and between these stood at
intervals the dome-shaped houses of white ants--those of the _Termes
mordax_--rising to the height of several feet above the surface.

They had just outspanned and permitted their oxen to wander upon the
grass, when the voice of Swartboy was heard exclaiming--

"De leuw! de leuw!"

All looked where Swartboy pointed.  There, sure enough, was a lion,--a
large "schwart-fore-life," or _black-maned_ one,--right out upon the
plain, and beyond the place where the oxen were browsing.

There was a clump of "bosch" just behind the lion.  Out of this he had
come at sight of the oxen; and, having advanced a few yards, he had lain
down among the grass, and was now watching the animals as a cat would a
mouse, or a spider the unconscious fly.

They had scarcely set their eyes upon him when another was seen issuing
from the "bosch," and, with stealthy trot, running up to the side of her
companion.  _Her_ companion, I say, because the second was a lioness, as
the absence of a mane and the tiger-like form testified.  She was
scarcely inferior in size to the lion, and not a bit less fierce and
dangerous in any encounter she might chance to fall in with.

Having joined the lion, she squatted beside him; and both now sat upon
their tails, like two gigantic cats, with full front towards the camp,
and evidently eyeing the oxen with hungry looks.

Horses, hunters, drivers, and dogs, were all in sight; but what cared
the lions for that?  The tempting prey was before them, and they
evidently meditated an attack,--if not just then, whenever the
opportunity offered.  Most certainly they contemplated supping either
upon ox-beef or horse-flesh.

Now these were the first lions that had been encountered upon the
expedition.  "Spoor" had been seen several times, and the terrible roar
had been heard once or twice around the night-camp; but the "king of
beasts" now appeared for the first time _in propria persona_, with his
queen along with him, and of course his presence was productive of no
small excitement in the yager camp.  It must not be denied that this
excitement partook largely of the nature of a "panic."

The first fear of the hunters was for their own skins, and in this both
Bushman and Kaffir equally shared.  After a time, however, this feeling
subsided.  The lions would not attack the camp.  They do so only on very
rare occasions.  It was the camp _animals_ they were after, and so long
as these were present, they would not spring upon their owners.  So far
there was no danger, and our yagers recovered their self-possession.

But it would not do to let the carnivorous brutes destroy their oxen,--
that would not do.  Something must be done to secure them.  A kraal must
be made at once, and the animals driven into it.  The lions lay quietly
on the plain, though still in a menacing attitude.  But they were a good
way off--full five hundred yards--and were not likely to attack the oxen
so close to the camp.  The huge wagons--strange sight to them--no doubt
had the effect of restraining them for the present.  They either waited
until the oxen should browse nearer, or till night would enable them to
approach the latter unobserved.

As soon, then, as it was perceived that they were not bent upon an
immediate attack, Groot Willem and Hendrik mounted their horses, rode
cautiously out beyond the oxen, and quietly drove the latter to the
other side of the vley.  There they were herded by Klaas and Jan; while
all the rest, Swartboy and Congo included, went to work with axe and
bill-hook in the nearest thicket of "wait-a-bit" thorns.  In less than
half-an-hour a sufficient number of bushes were cut to form, with the
help of the wagons, a strong kraal; and inside this, both horses and
oxen were driven,--the former made fast to the wheel-spokes, while the
latter were clumped up loosely within the enclosure.

The hunters now felt secure.  They had kindled a large fire on each side
of the kraal, though they knew that this will not always keep lions off.
But they trusted to their guns; and as they would sleep inside the
canvass tents of their wagons, closing both "voor" and "achter-claps,"
they had nothing to fear.  It would be a hungry lion, indeed, that would
have attempted to break the strong kraal they had made; and no lion,
however hungry, would ever think of charging into a wagon.

Having made all secure, therefore, they seated themselves around one of
their fires, and set about cooking their dinner, or rather
dinner-supper, for it was to include both meals.  Their journey
prevented them from dining earlier.

They chanced to have little else than _biltong_, or dried meat, to cook.
The long wait by the drift had consumed their stock of fine springbok
venison, which they had laid in some days before.  It is true they had
venison in camp, but it was that of the "reitbok," or reed-buck--so
called from its habit of frequenting the long reeds by the banks of
rivers; and it was while they were journeying through a belt of these
after crossing the drift, that this one had been shot by Hendrik.  A
small antelope the reitbok is--the _Antilope eleotragus_ of naturalists.
It stands less than three feet in height, formed much like the
springbok, but with a rougher coat of hair, of an ashy grey colour, and
silver white underneath.  Its horns, however, are not lyrate, as in the
springbok, but rise first in the plane of its forehead, and then curve
boldly forward to the tips.  They are about twelve inches in length,
wrinkled at the base, prominently ringed in the middle, and smooth near
the points.  The reitbok, as its name implies, inhabits the reedy
bottoms by the margins of streams and rivers, and its food consists of
plants growing in humid and marshy situations.  Hence its flesh is
inferior to that of most South African antelopes, and it was not a
favourite with the young yagers.  Although it had been brought along,
they preferred even the dry biltong, and it was left to the less
delicate appetites of Swartboy and Congo.

Now the hunters, Hendrik and Groot Willem, would have gone out to look
for a springbok, or some other game, but the presence of the lions
prevented that; and so the boys were obliged to content themselves with
a slice of the biltong; and each, having cut him a short stick for a
spit, set about broiling his piece over the coals.

During all this time the lion and lioness kept the position they had
taken on the plain, scarce once having changed their attitude.  They
were waiting patiently the approach of night.

Groot Willem and Hendrik had both advised making an attack upon them;
but in this case they again gave way to the more prudent counsel of
Hans, strengthened, perhaps, by his reminding them of the instructions
they had received from both their fathers at setting out.  These
instructions were,--never to attack a lion without good reason for so
doing, but always to give the "ole leuw" a wide berth when it was
possible to do so.  It is well known that the lion will rarely attack
man when not first assailed; and therefore the advice given to the young
yagers was sound and prudent? and they followed it.

It wanted yet an hour or two of sunset.  The lions still sat squatted on
the grass, closely observed by the hunters.

All at once the eyes of the latter became directed upon a new object.
Slowly approaching over the distant plain, appeared two strange animals,
similar in form, and nearly so in size and colour.  Each was about the
size of an ass, and not unlike one in colour,--especially that variety
of the ass which is of a buff or fulvous tint.  Their forms, however,
were more graceful than that of the ass, though they were far from being
light or slender.  On the contrary, they were of a full, round, bold
outline.  They were singularly marked about the head and face.  The
ground colour of these parts was white, but four dark bands were so
disposed over them as to give the animals the appearance of wearing a
headstall of black leather.  The first of these bands descended in a
streak down the forehead; another passed through the eyes to the corners
of the mouth; a third embraced the nose; while a fourth ran from the
base of the ears passing under the throat--a regular throat-strap--thus
completing the resemblance to the stall-halter.

A reversed mane, a dark list down the back, and a long black bushy tail
reaching to the ground, were also characters to be observed.  But what
rendered these animals easily to be distinguished from all others was
the splendid pair of horns which each carried.  These horns were
straight, slender, pointing backwards almost horizontally.  They were
regularly ringed till within a few inches of their tips, which were as
sharp as steel spits.  In both they were of a deep jet colour, shining
like ebony, and full three feet in length.  But what was rather
singular, the horns of the smaller animal--for there was some difference
in their size--were longer than those of the larger one!  The former was
the female, the latter the male, therefore the horns of the female were
more developed than those of the male--an anomaly among animals of the
antelope tribe, for antelopes they were.  The young yagers had no
difficulty in distinguishing their kind.  At the first glance they all
recognised the beautiful "oryx," one of the loveliest animals of Africa,
one of the fairest creatures in the world.



CHAPTER FIVE.

LIONS STALKING THE GEMSBOK.

On seeing the "gemsbok"--for by such name is the oryx known to the Cape
colonists--the first thought of the young yagers was how they should
kill or capture one of them.  Beautiful as these creatures looked upon
the plain, our hunters would have fancied them better on the spit--for
they well knew that the venison of the gemsbok is delicious eating--not
surpassed by that of any other antelope, the eland perhaps excepted.

The first thought of the yagers, then, was a steak of gemsbok venison
for dinner.  It might throw their dinner a little later, but it would be
so much of a better one than dry biltong, that they were willing to
wait.

The slices of jerked meat, already half-broiled, were at once put aside,
and guns were grasped in the place of roasting-sticks.

What was the best course to be pursued?  That was the next question.

It would scarce be possible to stalk the gemsboks.  They are among the
most wary of antelopes.  They rarely approach near any cover that might
shelter an enemy; and when alarmed they strike off in a straight line,
and make for the open desert plains--their natural home.  To stalk them,
is a most difficult thing, and rarely attempted by the hunter.  They can
only be captured by a swift horse, and after a severe chase.  Even from
the swiftest horse they often make their escape; for in the first burst
of a mile or two they can run like the wind.  A good horse, however, has
more "bottom" than they, and if well managed will in time overtake them.

The hunters having seized their guns, next thought of their horses.
Should they saddle and ride out after the gemsboks?  That would have
been their course at once, and without further consideration, had they
not observed that the antelopes were coming directly towards them.  If
they continued in the same course much longer, they, the yagers, need
not stir from the spot.  The game would approach within shot and save
them the trouble of a chase.  This would be very agreeable, as the
hunters were hungry, and their horses tired after a hard day's
journeying.

There was some probability that the gemsboks would give them the chance
they wished for.  The camp was well hidden among the bushes.  The smoke
of the fire alone showed its situation, but the antelopes might not
perceive this, or if so, might not regard it as a thing to be feared.
Besides, as Groot Willem and Hendrik observed, the vley was close by,
and both believed the antelopes were on their way to the water.  The
student Hans, however, corrected them in this belief, by telling them
that the oryx is an animal _that never drinks_,--that it is quite
independent of springs, streams, or vleys,--one of those creatures which
Nature has formed to dwell in the desert, where no water exists!  It was
not likely then that the gemsboks were coming to the vley.  The hunters
need make no calculation on that.

At all events, they were certainly approaching the camp.  They were
heading straight for it, and were already less than a thousand yards
from the spot.  There would scare be time to saddle before they should
come within shot, or else start off alarmed at the appearance of the
smoke.  The hunters, therefore, gave up all thoughts of a chase; and,
crouching forward to the outer edge of the grove, they knelt down behind
the bushes to await the approach of the antelopes.

The latter still kept steadily on, apparently unconscious of danger.
Surely they had not yet perceived the smoke, else they would have shown
symptoms either of curiosity or alarm!  The wind was blowing in the same
direction in which they marched, or their keen sense of smell would have
warned them of the dangerous proximity of the hunter's camp.  But it did
not; and they continued with slow but unaltered pace to approach the
spot, where no less than six dark muzzles--a full battery of small
arms--were waiting to give them a volley.

It was not the destiny of either of the gemsboks to die by a leaden
bullet.  Death, sudden and violent awaited them, though not from the
hand of man.  It was to come from a different quarter.

As the yagers lay watching the approach of the antelopes, their eyes had
wandered for a moment from the lions; but a movement on the part of
these again drew attention to them.  Up to a certain period they had
remained in an upright attitude, squatted upon their tails, but all at
once they were observed to crouch flat down, as if to conceal themselves
under the grass, while their heads were turned in a new direction.  They
were turned towards the gemsboks.  They had caught sight of the latter
as they approached over the plain; and it was evident that they
contemplated an attack upon them.

Now if the antelopes continued on in the same course, it would carry
them quite clear of the lions, so that the latter would have no
advantage.  A gemsbok can soon scour off from a lion, as the latter is
at best but a poor runner, and secures his prey by a sudden spring or
two, or else not at all.  Unless, therefore, the lions could obtain the
advantage of getting within bounding distance of the antelopes without
being seen by them, their chances of making a capture would be poor
enough.

They knew this, and to effect that purpose--that of getting near--now
appeared to be their design.  The lion was observed to crawl off from
the spot in a direction that would enable him to get upon the path of
the gemsboks, between them and the camp.  By a series of manoeuvres,--
now crawling flat along the grass, like a cat after a partridge; now
pausing behind a bush or an ant-heap to survey the game; then trotting
lightly on to the next,--he at length reached a large ant-hill that
stood right by the path in which the antelopes were advancing.  He
seemed to be satisfied of this, for he stopped here and placed himself
close in to the base of the hill, so that only a small portion of his
head projected on the side towards the game.  His whole body, however,
and every movement he made, were visible to the hunters from _their_
ambush in the grove.

But where was the lioness?  She was no longer by the _bosch_ where first
seen.  Where had she gone?  Not with the lion?  No.  On the contrary,
she had gone in a direction nearly opposite to that taken by him.  Their
eyes had been busy with his movements, and they had not noticed hers.
Now, however, that the lion had come to a halt, they looked abroad for
his mate, and saw her far out upon the plain.  They saw that she was
progressing in the same way the lion had done,--now crawling among the
grass, now trotting swiftly from bush to bush, and pausing a moment
behind each, but evidently bending her course so as to arrive _in the
rear_ of the antelopes!

The "strategy" of the lions was now perceived.  They had evidently
planned it before separating.  The lion was to place himself in ambush
upon the path, while the lioness swept round to the rear and forced the
antelopes forward; or should the latter become alarmed and retreat, the
lion could then show himself in pursuit, and run the frightened game
back into the clutches of the lioness.

The thing was well calculated, and although it was likely to rob the
hunters of their game, they had grown so interested in the movements of
the carnivora and their intended victims, that they thought only of
watching the spectacle to its end.

The ambuscade was well planned, and in a few minutes its success was no
longer doubtful.  The gemsboks advanced steadily towards the ant-hill,
occasionally switching about their black bushy tails; but that was to
rid their flanks of the flies, and not from any apprehension of danger.

The lioness had completed the great _detour_ she had made, and was now
seen crouching after them, though still far to the rear.

As the antelopes drew near the ant-hill, the lion was observed to draw
back his head until it was nearly concealed under his black shaggy mane.
They could not possibly have seen him where he lay, nor he them, and he
now appeared to trust to his ears to inform him of their approach.

He waited till both were opposite, and broadside toward him, at the
distance of less than twenty paces from the hill.  Then his tail was
seen to vibrate with one or two quick jerks, his head shot suddenly
forth, his body spread out apparently to twice its natural size, and the
next moment he rose like a bird into the air!

With one bound he cleared the wide space that separated him from the
nearest of the gemsboks, alighting on the hind-quarters of the terrified
animal.  A single blow of his powerful paw brought the antelope on its
haunches; and another, delivered almost at the same instant, stretched
its body lifeless on the plain!

Without looking after the other, or seeming to care further about it,
the lion sprang upon the body of his victim, and, clutching its throat
between his jaws, commenced drinking its warm blood.

It was the bull gemsbok which the lion had pulled down, as this was the
one that happened to be nearest the hill.

As the lion sprang upon her companion, the cow of course started with
affright, and all supposed they would see her the next moment scouring
off over the plains.  To their astonishment she did no such thing.  Such
is not the nature of the noble oryx.  On the contrary, as soon as she
recovered from the first moments of alarm, she wheeled round towards the
enemy; and, lowering her head to the very ground, so that her long horns
projected horizontally in front, she rushed with all her strength upon
the lion!  The latter, in full enjoyment of his red draught, saw nothing
of this manoeuvre.  The first intimation he had of it was to feel a pair
of spears pierced right through his ribs, and it is not likely he felt
much more.

For some moments a confused struggling was observed, in which both lion
and oryx seemed to take part; but the attitudes of both appeared so odd,
and changed so rapidly, that the spectators could not tell in what
manner they were combating.  The roar of the lion however had ceased,
and was now succeeded by the more shrill tones of the lioness, who,
bounding forward upon the spot, mixed at once in the melee.

A single touch of her claws brought the cow oryx to the earth, and ended
the strife; and the lioness now stood over the victims screaming her
note of triumph.

Was it a note of triumph?  There was something odd in its tone--
something singular in the movements of the creature that uttered it--
something strange about the whole thing.  Why was the lion silent?  His
roar had ceased, and he lay embracing the carcass of the bull gemsbok,
and apparently drinking its blood.  Yet he was perfectly without motion,
not a muscle could be seen to move, not a quiver of his tawny hide
betokened that he breathed or lived!  Was he dead?



CHAPTER SIX.

AN ANGRY LIONESS.

Certainly there was something mysterious about the matter.  The lion
still kept his position; no motion could be observed, no sound escaped
him; whereas the lioness uttered incessantly her shrill growling, at the
same time pacing to and fro, round and round, the confused heap of
bodies!  She made no attempt to feed, though her prey lay bleeding
before her.  Surely her lord was not the cause of her abstinence!  Did
he insist upon having both the carcasses to himself?

Sometimes it is so.  Sometimes an old male plays the selfish tyrant, and
keeps the younger and weaker members of his family off, till he has
gorged himself, permitting them to make a "second table" of his
leavings.

In the present instance this was not likely.  There were two whole
carcasses,--large fat carcasses,--enough for both.  Besides, the lioness
was evidently the lion's own mate--his wife.  It was scarcely probable
he would treat her so.  Among human beings instances of such
selfishness,--such a gross want of gallantry, are, I regret to say, by
no means rare; but the young yagers could not believe the lion guilty of
such shabby conduct--the lion, Buffon's type of nobility!  No such
thing.  But how was it?  The lioness still growled and paced about, ever
and anon stooping near the head of her partner, which was not visible
from the camp, and placing her snout in contact with his as if kissing
him.  Still there was no sign of any response, no motion on his part;
and, after watching for a good while without perceiving any, the hunters
at length became satisfied that the lion was dead.

He was dead--as Julius Caesar or a door-nail, and so, too, was the brace
of gemsboks.  The lioness was the only living thing left from that
sanguinary conflict!

As soon as the hunters became satisfied of this, they began to
deliberate among themselves what was best to be done.  They wished to
get possession of the venison, but there was no hope of their being able
to do so, as long as the lioness remained upon the ground.

To have attempted to drive her off at that moment would have been a most
perilous undertaking.  She was evidently excited to madness, and would
have charged upon any creature that had shown itself in her
neighbourhood.  The frenzied manner in which she paced about, and lashed
her sides with her tail, her fierce and determined look, and deep angry
growl, all told the furious rage she was in.  There was menace in her
every movement.  The hunters saw this, and prudently withdrew
themselves--so as to be near the wagons in case she might come that way.

They thought that by waiting awhile she would go off, and then they
could drag the antelopes up to camp.

But after waiting a good while, they observed no change in the conduct
of the fierce brute.  She still paced around as before, and abstained
from touching the carcasses.  As one of the yagers observed, she
continued to "play the dog in the manger,"--would neither eat herself,
nor suffer anybody else to eat.

This remark, which was made by little Jan, elicited a round of laughter
that sounded in strange contrast with the melancholy howl of the
lioness, which still continued to terrify the animals of the camp.  Even
the dogs cowered among the wheels of the wagons, or kept close to the
heels of their masters.  It is true that many of these faithful brutes,
had they been set on, would have manfully battled with the lioness, big
as she was.  But the young yagers well knew that dogs before the paws of
an angry lion are like mice under the claws of a cat.  They did not
think of setting them on, unless they had themselves made an attack; and
that, the advice of Hans, coupled with the counsels they had received
before leaving home, prevented them from doing.  They had no intention
of meddling with the lioness; and hoped she would soon retire, and leave
the game, or part of it, on the ground.

After waiting a long while, and seeing that the lioness showed no
symptoms of leaving the spot, they despaired of dining on oryx venison,
and once more set to broiling their slices of biltong.

They had not yet commenced eating, when they perceived a new arrival
upon the scene of the late struggle.  Half-a-dozen hyenas appeared upon
the ground; and although these had not yet touched the carcasses, but
were standing a little way off--through fear of the lioness--their
hungry looks told plainly what their intention was in coming there.

Now the presence of these hideous brutes was a new point for
consideration.  If the lioness should allow them to begin their feast
upon the antelopes, in a very short while scarce a morsel of either
would remain.  The yagers, although they had resigned all hope of dining
on the gemsbok venison, nevertheless looked forward to making their
supper of it; but if the hyenas were permitted to step in, they would be
disappointed.

How were the brutes to be kept off?

To drive them off would be just as perilous an undertaking as to drive
off the lioness herself.

Once more Groot Willem and Hendrik talked about attacking the latter;
but, as before, were opposed by Hans, who had to use all his influence
with his companions before he could induce them to abandon the rash
project.

At this moment an unexpected proposal put an end to their discussion.

The proposal came from Congo the Kaffir.  It was neither less nor more
than that he himself should go forth and do battle with the lioness!

"What! alone?"

"Alone."

"You are mad, Congo.  You would be torn to pieces!"

"No fear, Mynheeren.  Congo the leuw kill without getting scratch.  You
see, young masters."

"What! without arms? without a gun?"

"Congo not know how use one," replied the Kaffir, "you see how I do
'im," he continued.  "All Congo ask you not come in way.  Young masters,
here stay and Congo leave to himself.  No danger.  Mynheeren, Congo fear
if go yonder help him--leuw very mad.  Congo not care for that--so much
mad, so much better--leuw no run away."

"But what do you intend to do, Congo?"

"Mynheeren soon all see--see how Congo kill lion."

The hunters were disposed to look upon the Kaffir as about to make a
reckless exposure of his life.  Swartboy would have treated the proposal
as a boast, and laughed thereat, but Swartboy remembered the humiliation
he had had in the morning on account of similar conduct; and though he
feared to be farther outstripped in hunter-craft by his rival, he had
the prudence upon this occasion to conceal his envy.  He bit his thick
lips, and remained silent.  Some of the boys, and especially Hans, would
have dissuaded Congo from his purpose; but Groot Willem was inclined to
let him have his way.  Groot Willem knew the Kaffir better than any of
the others.  He knew, moreover, that savage as he was, he was not going
to act any foolish part for the mere sake of braggadocio.  He could be
trusted.  So said Groot Willem.

This argument, combined with a desire to eat gemsbok venison for supper,
had its effect.  Arend and Hans gave in.

Congo had full permission to battle with the lioness.



CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW CONGO THE KAFFIR KILLED A LIONESS.

Congo had now become an object of as great interest as in the morning.
Greater in fact, for the new danger he was about to undergo--a combat
with an enraged lioness--was accounted still greater than that of
fording the Gareep, and the interest was in proportion.  With eager eyes
the young yagers stood watching him as he prepared himself for the
encounter.

He was but a short while in getting ready.  He was seen to enter the Van
Wyk wagon, and in less than three minutes come out again fully armed and
equipped.  The lioness would not have long to wait for her assailant.

The equipment of the Kaffir must needs be described.

It was simple enough, though odd to a stranger's eye.  It was neither
more nor less than the equipment of a Zooloo warrior.

In his right hand he held a bunch of _assegais_,--in all six of them.

What is an "assegai?"

It is a straight lance or spear, though not to be used as one.  It is
smaller than either of these weapons, shorter and more slender in the
shaft, but like them armed with an iron head of arrow shape.  In battle
it is not retained in the hand, but flung at the enemy, often from a
considerable distance.  It is, in short, a "javelin," or "dart,"--such
as was used in Europe before fire-arms became known, and such as at
present forms the war weapon of all the savage tribes of Southern
Africa, but especially those of the Kaffir nations.  And well know they
how to project this dangerous missile.  At the distance of a hundred
yards they will send it with a force as great, and an aim as unerring,
as either bullet or arrow!  The assegai is flung by a single arm.

Of these javelins Congo carried six, spanning their slender shafts with
his long muscular fingers.

The assegais were not the oddest part of his equipment.  That was a
remarkable thing which he bore on his left arm.  It was of oval form,
full six feet in length by about three in width, concave on the side
towards his body, and equally convex on the opposite.  More than any
thing else did it resemble a small boat or canoe made of skins stretched
over a framework of wood, and of such materials was it constructed.  It
was, in fact, a shield,--a Zooloo shield--though of somewhat larger
dimensions than those used in war.  Notwithstanding its great size it
was far from clumsy, but light, tight, and firm,--so much so that arrow,
assegai, or bullet, striking it upon the convex side, would have glanced
off as from a plate of steel.

A pair of strong bands fastened inside along the bottom enabled the
wearer to move it about at will; and placed upright, with its lower end
resting upon the ground, it would have sheltered the body of the tallest
man.  It sheltered that of Congo, and Congo was no dwarf.

Without another word he walked out, the huge _carapace_ on his left arm,
five of the assegais clutched in his left hand, while one that he had
chosen for the first throw he held in his right.  This one was grasped
near the middle, and carried upon the balance.

No change had taken place in the situation of affairs out upon the
plain.  In fact, there had not been much time for any.  Scarce five
minutes had elapsed from the time the Kaffir stated his purpose, until
he went forth to execute it.  The lioness was still roaming about,
uttering her frightful screams.  The hyenas were still there.  The
moment the Kaffir was seen approaching, the cowardly hyenas fled with a
howl, and soon disappeared under the bosch.

Far different with the lioness.  She seemed to pay no regard to the
approach of the hunter.  She neither turned her head, nor looked in the
direction he was coming.  Her whole attention was absorbed by the mass
of bodies upon the plain.  She yelled her savage notes as she regarded
them.  She was no doubt lamenting the fate of her grim and swarthy
partner, that lay dead before her eyes.  At all events, she did not seem
to notice the hunter, until he had got within twenty paces of the spot!

At that distance the Kaffir halted, rested his huge shield upon the
ground--still holding it erect--poised the assegai a moment in his right
hand, and then sent it whizzing through the air.

It pierced the side of the tawny brute, and hung quivering between her
ribs.  Only for a moment.  The fierce animal doubled round upon herself,
caught the shaft in her teeth, and broke it off as if it had been a
straw!

The blade of the assegai still remained in the flesh, but the lioness
waited no longer.  She had now perceived her enemy; and, uttering a
vengeful scream, she sprang towards him.  With one tremendous bound she
cleared three-fourths of the space that lay between them, and a second
would have carried her upon the shoulders of the Kaffir; but the latter
was prepared to receive her, and, as she rose to her second leap, he
disappeared suddenly from the scene!  As if by magic he had vanished;
and had not the boys been watching his every movement, they would have
been at a loss to know what had become of him.  But they knew that under
that oval convex form, whose edges rested upon the earth, lay Congo the
Kaffir.  There lay he, like a tortoise in its shell, clutching the
straps with all his might, and pressing his carapace firmly against the
ground!

The lioness was more astonished than the spectators.  At the second leap
she pitched right down upon the shield, but the drum-like noise made by
her weight, and the hard firm substance encountered by her claws, quite
disconcerted her, and springing aside she stood gazing at the odd object
with looks of alarm!

She stood but for a moment, and then, uttering a savage growl of
disappointment, turned tail upon it, and trotted off!

This growl guided Congo.  The shield was raised from the ground--only on
one side, and but a very little way at first--just enough to enable the
hunter to see the stern of the retreating lioness.

Then the Kaffir rose quickly to his feet, and, holding the shield erect,
prepared for the casting of a second assegai.

This was quickly thrown and pierced the animal in the flank, where shaft
and all remained sticking in the flesh.  The lioness turned with
redoubled fury, once more charged upon her assailant, and, as before,
was met by the hard convex surface of the shield.  This time she did not
immediately retreat, but stood menacing the strange object, striking it
with her clawed hoofs, and endeavouring to turn it over.

Now was the moment of peril for Congo.  Had the lioness succeeded in
making a capsize, it would have been all up with him, poor fellow!  But
he knew the danger, and with one hand clutching the leathern straps, and
the other bearing upon the edge of the frame, he was able to hold firm
and close,--closer even "than a barnacle to a ship's copper."

After venting her rage in several impotent attempts to break or overturn
the carapace, the lioness at length went growling away towards her
former position.

Her growls, as before, guided the actions of Congo.  He was soon upon
his feet, another assegai whistled through the air, and pierced through
the neck of the lioness.

But, as before, the wound was not fatal, and the animal, now enraged to
a frenzy, charged once more upon her assailant.  So rapid was her
advance that it was with great difficulty Congo got under cover.  A
moment later, and his ruse would have failed, for the claws of the lion
rattled upon the shield as it descended.

He succeeded, however, in planting himself firmly, and was once more
safe under the thick buffalo hide.  The lioness now howled with
disappointed rage; and after spending some minutes in fruitless
endeavours to upset the shield, she once more desisted.  This time,
however, instead of going away, the angry brute kept pacing round and
round, and at length _lay down within three feet of the spot_.  Congo
was besieged!

The boys saw at a glance that Congo was a captive.  The look of the
lioness told them this.  Though she was several hundred yards off, they
could see that she wore an air of determination, and was not likely to
depart from the spot without having her revenge.  There could be no
question about it,--the Kaffir was in "a scrape."

Should the lioness remain, how was he to get out of it?  He could not
escape by any means.  To raise the shield would be to tempt the fierce
brute upon him.  Nothing could be plainer than that.  The boys shouted
aloud to warn him of his danger.  They feared that he might not be aware
of the close proximity of his enemy.

Notwithstanding the danger there was something ludicrous in the
situation in which the Kaffir was placed; and the young hunters, though
anxious about the result, could scarce keep from laughter, as they
looked forth upon the plain.

There lay the lioness within three feet of the shield, regarding it with
fixed and glaring eyes, and at intervals uttering her savage growls.
There lay the oval form, with Congo beneath, motionless and silent.  A
strange pair of adversaries, indeed!

Long time the lioness kept her close vigil, scarce moving her body from
its crouching attitude.  Her tail only vibrated from side to side, and
the muscles of her jaws quivered with subdued rage.  The boys shouted
repeatedly to warn Congo; though no reply came from the hollow interior
of the carapace.  They might have spared their breath.  The cunning
Kaffir knew as well as they the position of his enemy.  Her growls, as
well as her loud breathing, kept him admonished of her whereabouts; and
he well understood how to act under the circumstances.

For a full half-hour this singular scene continued; and as the lioness
showed no signs of deserting her post, the young yagers at length
determined upon an attack, or, at all events, a feint that would draw
her off.

It was close upon sunset, and should night come down what would become
of Congo?  In the darkness he might be destroyed.  He might relax his
watchfulness,--he might go to sleep, and then his relentless enemy would
have the advantage.

Something must be done to release him from his narrow prison,--and at
once.

They had saddled and mounted their horses, and were about to ride forth,
when the sharp-eyed Hans noticed that the lioness was much farther off
from the shield than when he last looked that way.  And yet she had not
moved,--at all events, no one had seen her stir--and she was still in
the very same attitude!  How then?

"Ha! look yonder! the shield is moving!"

As Hans uttered these words the eyes of all turned suddenly upon the
carapace.

Sure enough, it was moving.  Slowly and gradually it seemed to glide
along the ground, like a huge tortoise, though its edges remained close
to the surface.  Although impelled by no visible power, all understood
what this motion meant,--Congo was the moving power!

The yagers held their bridles firm, and sat watching with breathless
interest.

In a few minutes more the shield had moved full ten paces from the
crouching lioness.  The latter seemed not to notice this change in the
relative position of herself and her cunning adversary.  If she did, she
beheld it rather with feelings of curiosity or wonder than otherwise.
At all events, she kept her post until the curious object had gone a
wide distance from her.

She might not have suffered it to go much farther; but it was now far
enough for her adversary's purpose, for the shield suddenly became
erect, and the Kaffir once more sent his assegai whirring from his hand.

It was the fatal shaft.  The lioness chanced to be crouching broadside
towards the hunter.  His aim was true, and the barbed iron pierced
through her heart.  A sharp growl, that was soon stifled,--a short
despairing struggle, that soon ended, and the mighty brute lay
motionless in the dust!

A loud "hurrah!" came from the direction of the camp, and the young
yagers now galloped forth upon the plain, and congratulated Congo upon
the successful result of his perilous conflict.

The group of dead bodies was approached, and there a new surprise
awaited the hunters.  The lion was dead, as they had long since
conjectured,--the sharp horns of the oryx had done the work; but what
astonished all of them was, that the horns that had impaled the body of
the great lion still remained sticking in his side.  The oryx had been
unable to extricate them, and would thus have perished along with her
victim, even had the lioness not arrived to give the fatal blow!

This, both Congo and Swartboy assured the party, was no uncommon
occurrence, and the bodies of the lion and gemsbok are often found upon
the plains locked in this fatal embrace!

The cow gemsbok, yielding the more tender venison, was soon skinned and
cut up; and as the delicious steaks spurted over the red coals of their
camp-fire, the young yagers became very merry, and laughed at the
singular incidents of the day.



CHAPTER EIGHT.

A SHORT CHAT ABOUT LIONS.

Before going to supper the hunters dragged the carcasses of both lion
and lioness close up to the camp-fire.  A good pull it was, but they
managed it by attaching strong "rheims" of raw hide around the necks of
the creatures, and sliding them with the grain of the hair.

Their object in bringing them to the fire was, that they might have
light to skin them,--not that they deem the lion-hides of any great
value, except as trophies of their expedition--and they were not going
to leave such trophies on the plain.  Had the lions been permitted to
remain all night where they had been killed, the hyenas would have eaten
them up before morning,--skins and all.  It is a fable which tells that
the hyena will not eat the dead lion.  The filthy brute will eat
anything, even one of his own kind,--perhaps the most unpalatable morsel
he could well find.

Of course the oryx were also brought up to the camp to be skinned and
cut up.  The bull, as large and heavy as a dead ass, gave them a good
pull for it.  But it afforded Groot Willem an opportunity of exhibiting
his enormous strength; and the big boy, seizing the tow-rope, dragged
the oryx after him with as much ease as if it had been a kitten at the
end of a string of twine.

Both the gemsboks were regularly "butchered" and cut into quarters, to
be carried to the next camp, and there dried.  They would have dried the
meat on the spot, but the water where they had halted was not good, and
they did not wish to remain there another day.

The horns of the oryx are also esteemed trophies of the chase, and those
of both that were killed being perfect specimens--long, handsomely
ringed, and black as ebony--were added to the collection which the young
yagers were forming, and stowed safely away in the wagons.  The heads,
with the skins left on, were carefully cleaned and preserved, at no
distant day to become ornaments in the _voor-huis_, or entrance-hall,
either of the Von Bloom or Van Wyk mansions.

All these matters being arranged, the yagers sat down to supper around
the camp-fire.  The roast ribs and steaks of the gemsbok venison proved
delicious, and the whole party, as already stated, were contented and
merry.  Of course lions were the subject of conversation, and all
laughed again and again whenever they thought of Congo and his
encounter.

All of them, little Jan and Klaas excepted, had stories to tell of
adventures with lions, for these animals were still to be found in the
Graaf Reinet, and both Groot Willem and Arend had been present at more
than one lion-hunt.  Hans and Hendrik had met them in many an encounter
during the great elephant expedition, and Swartboy was an old Hottentot
lion-hunter.

But Congo seemed to know more of the lion than even Swartboy, though the
latter would have gone wild had such a thing been hinted at by any one
of the party; and many a rival story of strange interest fell from the
lips of both Kaffir and Bushman at that same camp-fire.  Some of the
party had heard of a mode of lion-hunting practised by the Bechuana
tribes, and, indeed, in Congo's own country.  There was nothing very
novel about the mode.  A number of people,--naked savages they were,--
attacked the lion wherever they met him, either in the bush or on the
open plain, and there fought him to the death.  These people carried for
arms only the assegai, and, as a sort of defensive weapon, a mop of
black ostrich-feathers fastened upon the end of a slender stick, and
somewhat resembling a large fly-brush.  The object of this was to
disconcert the lion when rushing upon the hunter.  By sticking it in the
ground at the right moment, the lion mistakes the clump of
ostrich-feathers for his real assailant, and, charging upon it, permits
the hunter to escape.  Such a _ruse_ is far inferior to the trick of the
carapace, but that singular mode of defence against the lion was only
practised by such cunning hunters as Congo.

Now, as already stated, the plan practised by the Bechuana savages had
nothing very novel or strange in it.  Any strangeness about it consisted
in the fact of the imprudence of such a mode of attack; for it was said
that the hunters did not stand off at a distance and cast their
assegais, on the contrary, they retained these weapons in their hands,
and used them as spears, approaching the lion close enough to thrust
them into his body!  The consequence was, that in every encounter with
their terrible antagonist, several hunters were either killed or badly
mangled.  This was the thing that appeared strange to our young yagers.
They could not understand why any hunters should attack the fierce lion
thus boldly and recklessly, when they might avoid the encounter
altogether!  They could not understand why even savages should be so
regardless of life.  Was it true that any people hunted the lion in that
way?  They asked Congo if it was true.  He replied that it was.

Now this required explanation,--and Congo was requested to give it,
which he did as follows.

The hunters spoken of were not _volunteers.  They did not attack the
lion of their own will and pleasure, but at the command of the tyrant
that ruled them_.  It was so in Congo's country, where the sanguinary
monster, Chaaka, had sway.  The _whole people of Chaaka were his
slaves_, and he thought nothing of putting a thousand of them to death
in a single morning to gratify some petty spleen or dislike!  He had
done so on more than one occasion, often adding torture.  The tales of
horrors practised by these African despots would be incredible were it
not for the full clear testimony establishing their truth; and, although
it forms no excuse for slavery, the contemplation of such a state of
things in Africa lessens our disgust for the system of American bondage.
Even the atrocious slave-trade, with all the horrors of the "middle
passage," appears mild in comparison with the sufferings endured by the
subjects of such fearful tyrants as Chaaka, Dingaan, or Moselekatse!

Congo related to the young yagers that it was customary for Chaaka's
people to act as the herdsmen of his numerous flocks, and that when any
of his cattle were killed by a lion,--a frequent occurrence,--the
unfortunate creatures who herded them were commanded to hunt the lion,
and bring in his head, or _suffer death_ in case of failure; and this
sentence was sure to be carried into effect.

This explained the apparently reckless conduct of the hunters.

Congo further stated that he had been compelled to take part in several
of these lion-hunts, in each of which the lives of men were sacrificed.
He spoke of one in particular where no less than ten hunters had been
killed before the lion was _captured_;--captured, not killed, for on
this occasion the despot had taken a whim into his head, and ordered the
fierce animal to be _taken alive_!  His command was, that if the lion
were not brought before him alive, and without a wound or scratch, every
man engaged in the hunt should suffer death!  As the unfortunate hunters
well knew the threat was no idle one, they caught the lion in their
naked arms, and succeeded in tying him, but not until ten of their
number had fallen victims to their involuntary zeal!

To these and other tales of lions did the young yagers listen as they
sat around the blazing camp-fire.



CHAPTER NINE.

THE UNICORN.

The oryx next became the subject of conversation, and Swartboy could
tell more about it than any one.  Of the oryx Congo knew very little, as
the region most frequented by this beautiful antelope lies farther west
than the country of the Kaffir tribes.  Its headquarters are in the land
of the Namaquas, though it is thinly scattered all around the borders of
the Great Kalihari Desert.

The oryx is a desert-dwelling antelope, can live without water, and
grows fat even on the plants that thinly vegetate over the barren soil.
It is a bold creature--often beats off the lion, or kills him by
impalement on its long bayonet-like horns.  Of the truth of this fact
our yagers had that day had proof.  The oryx when hunted does not, like
many other antelopes, make for either water or cover.  It strikes in a
straight line for its desert home, trusting to its heels for safety.
And its confidence in them is seldom misplaced.  A swift horse alone can
overtake and bring it to a stand; unless it be very fat, and then it is
more easily "blown."

An interesting point occurred in the conversation about the oryx.

Arend and some of the others had read in several books of travellers
that the oryx was supposed to be the fabled "unicorn," derived from
Egyptian sculptures.  They asked if this was the case.  Their question
was not put to Swartboy, you may be sure, but to Hans the naturalist, of
course.

Hans regarded the supposition as a very silly one.  A mere fancy of some
early South African traveller, that had been repeated, parrot-like, in
the books of other travellers and the writings of several
closet-naturalists.  The supposition of the oryx being the original of
the unicorn rested only upon the fact that its horns when seen _en
profile_ appear as but one; and the unicorn is so figured on the
Egyptian sculptures.  Now this argument can be advanced in favour of
several other antelopes, and therefore falls at once to the ground as
regards the oryx.

Hans mentioned several reasons why the gemsbok could not be the "fabled
unicorn."  Its form, and particularly the shape of its head, are quite
unlike the sculptures of that famous creature.  Its horns, both in
length and "set," even when seen _en profile_, differ altogether from
that of the unicorn, which points forward, whereas the horns of the oryx
extend backward almost horizontally, and sometimes even touching the
flanks of the animal.

"No," continued Hans; "if the Egyptian unicorn be not a fable--if it be
the representation of any animal in Africa, that animal is the gnoo; and
I regard it as something singular that the resemblance between the
gnoo--I mean the common species, not the `brindled'--and the fabled
unicorn, has not long since been noticed by naturalists and travellers.

"I should fancy that no one could look upon the pictures of both without
being struck by this resemblance.  Their forms, both of head and body,
the elegant rounding of limb, the split hoof, the long tufted tails, the
proud arching necks, with full flowing mane,--all these points go to
show that the gnoo was copied for the unicorn.  The _one_ horn is the
only circumstance that appears to invalidate my theory, but even in this
respect the gnoo bears a much greater resemblance to the unicorn than
does the oryx.  The horns of the gnoo are set in such a manner that it
often appears a _unicorn_.  Their tips do not rise above the level of
the skull; and in consequence of this, and also from the manner in which
the animal frequently carries its head, only one horn is visible, the
other being, inconspicuous against the dark ground of the head and mane.
Often only half the horn appears at a distance, and is then seen
pointing forward and `set,' very similarly to the brow ornaments of the
unicorn.

"The horn of the unicorn is usually represented quite straight in modern
paintings; but this is not correct, according to the Egyptian sculpture,
where a curve is given,--a positive imitation of the curve in the horns
of the oryx!  Even though it were straight, this would scarce invalidate
my theory, for the horns of the young oryx are straight also, and we
might suppose a young one to be represented.

"I do not beg the question in this way, however," continued Hans, "for I
know that whatever animal the Egyptians meant on their sculptures must
have been well known to them, and it is not likely that they would have
pictured a specimen of immature age.  The singular character of the
gnoo, its odd and eccentric habits, as well as the eccentricity of its
form and appearance, must have drawn attention to it from the earliest
times, and such an animal would not fail to be pictured by the
Egyptians.  As to the one horn, I regard the existence of that, either
as the result of imperfect observation on the part of the Egyptian
sculptors, or, what is more likely, a want of knowledge of their art.
Egyptian sculpture is at best but a rude affair, and the peculiar curve
and set of the oryx horns are difficult to depict.  Even in this very
hour of high art, our painters do not give the most correct delineation
of the head of a gemsbok.  So, you see, I make out a tolerably clear
case, that the gnoo of South Africa is the original of that mysterious
celebrity--the _unicorn_."

The naturalist had fairly established his point, to the satisfaction of
all the young yagers, who then asked him some questions about the
unicorn mentioned in the Bible.

"As to the unicorn of Scripture," replied Hans, "that is a very
different affair.  There can be no mistake about the animal meant by Job
when he wrote, `Canst thou bind the unicorn with his band in the furrow?
or will he harrow the valleys after thee?  Wilt thou trust him because
his strength is great? or wilt thou leave thy labour to him?'  This is,
in reality, a unicorn--the _one-horned rhinoceros_."

Resuming the subject of the oryx, Hans informed his companions that this
animal formed the type of a genus of animals called _Oryx_, of which
there were three other species,--the "addax," the "abu-harb," and the
"algazel."

The "addax" (_Oryx addax_) is a native of Central Africa generally, and
is nearly as large as the oryx; but its horns, instead of being
straight, are twisted spirally.  They are smaller in the female, which
is agreeable to the usual disposition of these appendages, though
contrary to that of the horns of the gemsbok.  The colour of the addax
is greyish-white over the body, and reddish-brown upon the head and
neck, with a white patch across the face.  It is not gregarious, but
lives in pairs on the sandy deserts, for traversing which its broad
hoofs are peculiarly adapted.  It was known to the ancients, and Pliny
speaks of it under the name _Strepsiceros_.

The "abu-harb" (_Oryx leucoryx_) is also a large powerful antelope, with
long sharp horns slightly curved backward.  Its colour is cream-white,
with a brown mark on the forehead, another on the cheeks, and a
rust-brown colour over the neck and throat.  In form it bears a good
deal of resemblance to the oryx, and was really the animal known by this
name to the Greeks and Romans.  But naturalists now apply the name
"oryx" to the gemsbok or Cape oryx, (_Oryx Capensis_).

The "abu-harb" is a native of Kordofan and Sennaar, and it is one of
those that are found upon the sculptures of Nubia and Egypt.  Unlike the
addax, it is gregarious in its habits, and lives in large herds.

The fourth species of oryx is the "algazel," (_Oryx algazella_).  This
is also a native of Central Africa, but less is known of it than of any
of the other three; and there are naturalists who regard it as merely a
variety of the "abu-harb."

When Hans had finished his learned discourse, it was full time for
retiring to rest, so the whole party crept into their wagons, and went
to sleep.



CHAPTER TEN.

THE CAMEL-BIRDS.

On leaving the "drift" where they had crossed the Orange River, our
hunters "treked" in a north-easterly direction.  Had they gone due north
they would soon have reached the rim of the Great Kalihari Desert--the
Saara of Southern Africa.  Of course they could not have penetrated
this, and would necessarily have been compelled to head in a new
direction, either to the east or west.  But they had long since
determined on an easterly course, as the region lying to the eastward of
the desert had the reputation of being a grand country for the large
animals--the buffalo, the elephant, and the camelopard; and the rivers
in that part were filled with huge sea-cows (hippopotami) and gigantic
crocodiles.  That was the very country the young yagers wanted to be in.

They were not travelling without a guide.  Congo was their guide.  He
knew every inch of the route.  He had promised to bring them into a
country abounding in elephants and giraffes; and no doubt was
entertained that the Kaffir would keep his promise.

Next day they were on the move at an early hour.  They made a long day's
march, and, halting a little before sunset, outspanned in a grove of
mokhala-trees, standing upon the very edge of a bleak desert, that
stretched before them as far as they could see,--and indeed much
further.  This desert had a very arid and parched appearance, the only
vegetation upon it being solitary plants of the arborescent aloe, with
its large coral-red flower-spike, palm-like zamias, some species of
cactus-like euphorbias, and here and there small clumps of _Acacia
horrida_, or "wait-a-bit" thorns, as these bushes are jocosely termed,
from the disposition of their curved spines to hook upon the clothes of
any one passing them.

Both plants and bushes grew far apart, and wide tracts of the plain
appeared without even any of these to vary its brown monotony.  It was a
sort of outlying spur of the Kalihari Desert, and they would have to
cross it before they should reach the country promised by their guide.
There would be _fifty_ miles without vley, spring, or stream--_fifty_
miles from water to water.

They had outspanned by the last spring, which gurgled out among the
roots of the mokhala-trees upon the very edge of the desert.  There they
intended remaining for a couple of days to dry the flesh of the
gemsboks, and also to recruit their animals and prepare them for the
long waterless journey of the desert,--a perilous passage.

It was near sunset when they had finished "outspanning," having formed
their camp in the centre of the mokhala grove, and not far from the
spring.

Hans, in a contemplative mood, had wandered to the edge of the grove;
and, seating himself under one of the trees, whose full umbrella-like
top cast a fine shade, was gazing out upon the wide treeless waste.

He had not been long in this situation, when his attention was attracted
to three upright forms that appeared upon the plain at the distance of
some hundred yards from the grove.  They were bipeds, for he saw them
from head to heel.  Not human bipeds, however, but birds.  They were
_ostriches_.

The merest child could have told that much--anybody--for who does not
recognise the great African ostrich at the first glance?  The size and
form of the _Struthio camelus_ are too peculiar to admit of its being
taken for any other bird.  The American "rhea," or the Australian
"emeu," might pass for its half-grown young, but a full-sized African
ostrich is not to be mistaken for any of its pigmy relatives, either in
Australia, New Zealand, the Indian archipelago, or America.  It is the
great bird of birds--the biggest that carries feathers.

Of course Hans knew the three to be ostriches the moment his eye rested
upon them--a cock and two hens.  This was easily told, for there is as
much difference between the male and female of these birds, as between
the brilliant peacock and his dingy spouse.  The greater size of the
former; the deep black colour of his body contrasting strongly with the
snow-white plumes of his wings and tail,--and in the desert these _are_
snow-white--distinguish him at once from his female companions.  Their
colour is a nearly uniform greyish brown, and they want those splendid
jet and snowy plumes that adorn the back of their lord and master, and
which have been from all time so highly prized as ornaments by both
savage and civilised people.

A cock and two hens they were, that presented themselves before the eyes
of the young naturalist.

They were marching slowly along.  They were not affrighted.  They
evidently had seen nothing of the camp.  How could they, as it was
behind the trees in the centre of the grove?  They occasionally bent
their long necks to one side or the other, and cropped a leaf, or picked
up a seed, but then continued their course.  From their following a
straight line Hans concluded they were not feeding in the regular way,
but bent towards some point, perhaps to their night resting-place.

When first observed, they were coming in a side direction, that is,
transversely to the direction in which Hans himself was facing.  In a
short time they had passed before him, and were now widening the
distance, and getting farther off into the desert.

Hans at first thought of calling to the others, who were all busy about
the wagons, and had not seen the ostriches.  He was thinking also of
some plan by which the birds might be captured or killed.

After a moment's consideration, he gave up the idea of either one thing
or the other.  The sight of an ostrich was nothing new to any of the
party.  Jan and Klaas might have cared for it, but both were tired after
their long hot ride, and had already fallen asleep on the grass.  Better
not disturb them, thought Hans.

As to the killing or capturing the ostriches, after a moment's
reflection, Hans also gave up that design.  The birds were already
passing--to have stalked within shot upon the naked plain would have
been impossible, for Hans well knew the wary nature of the ostrich; and
to have attempted a chase with their tired horses would have been
equally idle.

Hans, therefore, held his peace, and sat still; following with his eyes
the retreating forms of the three great camel-birds.

Their long strides soon carried them far off, but before they had
receded half-a-mile, the eyes of the naturalist were removed from them,
and turned on a different object.



CHAPTER ELEVEN.

THE SMALLEST OF FOXES.

The object which now fixed the attention of the naturalist was a
quadruped,--a very small one, not bigger than a medium-sized cat, but
altogether different in form and proportions.  Unlike the cats, it had a
long sharp snout, and a thick bushy tail.  It stood higher upon its
legs, too, than do animals of the cat kind, but the most remarkable
_feature_ about it was its ears.  These were remarkable for their
length, which was out of all proportion to the size of the creature.
Its whole body was barely one foot long, and yet the ears stood full six
inches above the crown of its head!  They stood quite erect, broad,
stiff, and pointed, and ending in an acute angle at the tips.

Its colour was a beautiful Isabella above, and cream-white underneath.
No; the creature was not like a cat, nor a dog neither, though it was
more like the latter than the former.  But there is an animal related to
the canine family to which it bore a very strong resemblance, and that
is the fox, for it _was_ a fox, the very smallest in the world, the
"caama" of Southern Africa.  And yet, correctly speaking, it was not a
fox neither, but a _fennec_.

What is a "fennec?"

That is an interesting question, and one about which naturalists have
bothered their brains a good deal.  It is an animal of which there are
several species existing throughout Africa; and of which the celebrated
traveller Bruce,--who, everybody thought, _lied_ so largely, but about
whom conceited ignorance has since changed its opinion,--first gave an
account.

It differs from the foxes in several respects, but the most remarkable
difference is found in the form of the eye.  In the true foxes the pupil
is linear or elliptical, while that of the fennec is round, thus showing
the difference of habit--for the foxes are in reality _nocturnal_
animals, while the fennecs are _diurnal_.  Some species of foxes,
however, are twilight prowlers, and one or two of the fennecs are also
crepuscular.

It is, therefore, scarce possible to draw a line of demarcation between
the two.  The fennecs, however, have been formed into a separate genus,
termed _Megalotis_, from the extreme size of their ears.  It is to be
hoped that the question is thus settled that has so much bothered the
closet-naturalists; who, taking their ideas from the anatomy of the
fennec, have classed it according to their several fancies; one making
it a dog, another a cat, a third a fox, a fourth a civet, a fifth a
hyena, and a sixth placing it among the galagos!

Let us call it a "fennec," or diurnal fox, and say farther that although
there are several species of _true foxes_ in Africa, and several of
_jackal-foxes_, there are also several of fennecs.  Three are well
known.  The fennec of Bruce, (_Megalotis zerda_), first described by
that traveller as seen by him in Abyssinia, but also indigenous to South
Africa; the "zabora," (_Megalotis famelicus_), a native of Nubia and
Kordofan, and supposed to be the animal represented on Egyptian temples,
which has been taken for the figure of the jackal; and the "caama
fennec," (_Megalotis caama_).

A fourth species, "Lalande's zerda," (_Megalotis Lalandii_), has been
"hooked out" of this genus, and made to form one of itself,
(_Agriodus_), not because its habits in anywise differ from the
_Megalotides_, but because it chances to differ slightly from them in
the form and arrangement of its "ivories."

Now of all these fennecs the one which was passing before the eyes of
Hans was the "caama," the smallest of the whole tribe either of fennecs
or foxes.

Crouching just like a fox, now trotting nimbly a few paces, now halting
and squatting close to the ground, as though fearful of being observed,
the little creature passed on.

What was it after?  What prey was it in pursuit of?

On watching it for a few moments, Hans saw to his great surprise that it
was after the ostriches!

It was going the same way they had gone, its sharp snout set towards,
and its eyes evidently bent upon, them.  Whenever they stopped it did
the same, squatting down as it did so, as if to avoid their observation;
and when they moved on, it also trotted forward, halting at intervals
behind stones and bushes and earnestly regarding the birds in advance.
Beyond a doubt it was trailing them!  But what could this little
creature want with the ostriches?  Certainly not to attack them, though
it was following after them just as a fox would a covey of partridges.

It could not be that, however; as a kick from the mighty leg of one of
these birds would have hoisted the fennec fifty yards over the plain,
like a ball from a cricket-bat.

No; it could not be following them with hostile intentions,--puny pigmy
that it appeared beside the big camel-birds!

For what, then, was it trailing them?  Of course it was not running on
the scent, but the view.  On their track it certainly was, and as
certainly was it "dogging" them.  For what purpose?

This was just what the naturalist Hans wished to know; and he remained
closely observing the movements of this miniature "microscopic" fox.

Talking of a microscope reminds me that Hans at that moment took out of
his pocket a telescope,--a small one, which he habitually carried.  This
he did, because, in a few minutes, the ostriches were very distant over
the plain, and their pursuer the fennec was no longer visible to the
naked eye.  With the glass, however, Hans could still make it out, and
could see that it was manoeuvring just as when it passed him.  All at
once the ostriches came to a stop; and, after an apparent consultation
among themselves, the cock squatted down, and his long legs were no
longer seen.  He was flat down upon his breast, and even through his
small pocket-glass Hans could tell that his body looked more spread and
bulky than before.  Was he covering eggs?  Was there a nest?  The
appearance of the ground about the sitting bird favoured that belief.
There was a slight prominence around the body of the bird having the
semblance of a bird's nest; but Hans knew that the nest of the ostrich
is of very simple construction,--a mere cavity scratched out in the
sand, and scarce to be recognised from any great distance.  Several
white objects lying around the spot led Hans to the conclusion that
there _was_ a nest.  These objects did not seem larger than
"jack-stones," but Hans, calculating well the distance that separated
them from his eye, believed them to be ostrich-eggs, and therefore as
large as paving-stones.  Hans knew that around the nest of the ostrich
scattered eggs are usually found--said by some to be there laid as a
deposit for the food of the expected progeny during their early days of
chickhood!

The two hens, after moving about awhile also squatted down, but they
appeared only to kneel with their great legs doubled under them; whereas
the cock sat low and flat upon his breast.  This only more convinced
Hans that there was a nest, and that the cock ostrich was taking his
turn of duty, while the hens were simply gone to roost in the usual
manner.

That the cock covered the eggs was nothing surprising to the young
naturalist, who knew that it is the habit of the male of these birds to
do so, and that he usually takes his turn during the night, when it is
colder, and his greater size and strength are required to keep the eggs
warm, as well as to protect the nest from prowling beasts of prey.  One
or other of the hens would very likely relieve him about daybreak.  Of
course both the hens were mothers in prospective of the future brood, as
the cock ostrich is a terrible "Mormon;" and frequently does the
polygamous on a large scale, having sometimes as many as a dozen wives.
Our old fellow was rather a moderate Mormon, as he appeared to be
satisfied with two--though bigamy, no doubt, is quite as sinful as
polygamy.

Hans concluded that there was a nest, and full of eggs in process of
being hatched.  It was no evidence against this, that the birds had been
away from it together.  The day had been a very warm one, and during the
middle part of the day--particularly in hot weather--the ostrich wanders
away from its eggs, leaving the sun to do its work for it.  The hotter
the country, the less does the ostrich require to "set;" and in parts of
Africa within the torrid zone where the heat reaches a very high degree,
the ostrich has very little to do with the hatching of its eggs, but
buries them in the burning sand, and makes the sun its "incubator!"

But what had become of our fennec--poor little fellow?

So asked Hans of himself, as he swept the plain with his telescope.
While watching the late movements of the birds, he had altogether
forgotten the beast.

After a time he was just able to make out its small whitish body
stretched upon the ground, under the lee of a little bush, and
apparently resolved upon passing the night there.  Had there been any
hole near, it would have preferred lodging in that--for the fennec is an
animal that makes its home in a "burrow."

Night had suddenly come on, and the darkness prevented Hans from
observing farther the movements of either beast or bird; so putting up
his glass, he rejoined his companions in the camp.



CHAPTER TWELVE.

THE WINGLESS BIRDS.

Hans, on returning to the camp, gave an account of what he had seen.
All were interested in the relation, but particularly the boys Klaas and
Jan, who were not over satisfied that they had not themselves been
witnesses of the affair.  Hans might very well have told them of it.
They wouldn't have minded being waked up to see the ostriches,
especially as they passed so near.  It wasn't every day one could get
such a view of these fine birds--they were so shy no one could get near
them, and Hans might very well have come into camp and told them, or
called them, Klaas and Jan, to the spot.  Hans didn't care whether they
ever saw any thing worth seeing--he didn't.

So grumbled Klaas and Jan, because Hans had not waked them out of their
sweet _siesta_, to see three ostriches stalking over the plain, and not
doing any thing in particular.

But boys are boys, and so long as they _are_ boys, they will feel a
wonderful interest in birds--especially when these birds stand nearly
ten feet high, and weigh three hundred pounds, as ostriches do.

Had it been a buffalo, or a giraffe, or even an elephant, neither Klaas
nor Jan would have so much cared.  Beasts are all very well in their
way, and may interest full-grown hunters, like Hendrik and Groot Willem,
but for "boy hunters," with light fowling-pieces and Number 5 shot,
birds are the game--though their Number 5 shot would hardly have tickled
an ostrich.

No matter for that.  They wanted to see the great camel-bird.  Hans
ought to have apprised them.  It was "right mean" of him not to do so,--
right mean, said Jan, and Klaas backed the opinion.

How long they might have grumbled, and given vent to their reproaches,
can only be guessed at; but the conversation turning upon ostriches
assumed a very pleasing character; and Klaas and Jan, becoming deeply
interested in it, soon got over their little "miff" with Hans--
especially as it was he who was now interesting them.  Upon the subject
of ostriches.  Hans had read a good deal, and was well acquainted with
the character and habits of these most interesting birds.

Swartboy stood next in his knowledge of the ostrich, for Swartboy in
early life had been a "dweller of the desert,"--the home of the Bushman
as well as the great camel-bird.  Swartboy was only too happy at the
opportunity thus offered of showing off his knowledge, for the late
wonderful performances of his Kaffir rival had quite thrown him into the
shade.

So what with Hans's book-knowledge and Swartboy's practical experience,
the young yagers became pretty well acquainted with the whole "history"
of the bird.

"The ostrich," said Hans, "is an African bird, though also found in the
adjacent countries of Asia.  Several species of birds somewhat like it,
belonging to South America, Australia and the islands of the Indian
Archipelago, have been called `ostriches' in the language of travellers.
I shall have a word about these presently.

"All over the African continent, as well as Arabia, Syria, and Persia,
dwells the ostrich, wherever there are desert plains--for this bird is
peculiarly a denizen of the desert, and never makes its home in wooded,
marshy, or even fertile districts.

"It has been known from the earliest times, and must have been more
numerous in the days of Heliogabalus than now, since that tyrant had the
brains of six hundred ostriches served up at a single feast!"

"Oh, the glutton!" exclaimed Jan.

"What a gourmand!" echoed Klaas.

"I should think after the feast he had more brains in his stomach than
in his head," quietly remarked Arend.

"No doubt of it," added Hendrik.

Hans continued:--

"The ancients knew the ostrich as the `camel-bird,' (_Struthio
camelus_).  This name was given to it on account of its fancied
resemblance to the camel; and in its hoof-like two-toed feet, its long
naked thighs and neck, and the pad or cushion on its chest,
corresponding to the callosity on the breast of the camel, it does bear
a resemblance to this animal.  Like it, too, the ostrich is formed for
the desert.  Aristotle and Pliny described the ostrich as half bird,
half quadruped."

As soon as Hans had given the more scientific part of the natural
history of the ostrich, Swartboy's knowledge of the habits of the bird
was produced, and from both were collected the details that follow.

Ostriches are gregarious--flocks of _fifty_ may be seen upon the plains,
peacefully associating with zebras, quaggas, wildebeests, blue
wildebeests, and several other plain-frequenting antelopes.

The males are polygamous, and usually have from two to six wives.  These
lay twelve to sixteen eggs each, in a nest which is only a hole scooped
out in the sand about six feet in diameter.  Not more than half the eggs
are deposited in the nest.  The others lie scattered around, and are
never hatched.

Swartboy alleged that these were intended to feed the young when they
came out of the shell: but Hans dissented from this opinion.  The
naturalist believed that those scattered about were superfluous eggs,
which were not deposited in the nest because one bird could not cover
all that the whole family of hens would lay; and that once the "setting"
was complete, the superfluous eggs were dropped about anywhere.

There is a good deal of probability in this conjecture of the young
naturalist.

It is certain that the scattered eggs are those last laid, and that the
birds continue to drop them after the incubation has commenced, but
whether they form the food of the young is a disputed point.  One bird
can cover from thirty to forty, placed as they usually are upon their
ends, and Swartboy said that he had often found this number in a nest,
but more frequently thirty was the "setting."

The male takes part in the incubation, sitting during the night; when
his greater size and strength enable him the better to protect the eggs
from cold.  The "hens" relieve one another during the day, but when the
sun is hot all leave the nest to itself, for hours at a time.

Hans stated, that in the more tropical regions the eggs are forsaken for
long spells, and the hot sand and _sun_ do the work of the parent birds;
and that on this account the period of incubation is not fixed, but
ranges from thirty to forty days.

The young when hatched are well developed, and in a day or two become as
large as guinea-hens, leaving the nest and running about in charge of
the parent birds.

At this period the old ones are very careful of their offspring.  When
an enemy approaches, the hen that has charge of the flock will endeavour
to attract the intruder upon herself, making a feint of being wounded,
spreading and drooping her wings, and tumbling from side to side along
the ground, while the cock draws off the chicks in an opposite
direction!  Partridges, wild ducks, and many other birds, do the same.

The eggs of the ostrich are of a dull white colour.  They are not all of
equal size, nor are the birds either.  A medium-sized ostrich-egg is six
inches long, and weighs about three pounds.  It is excellent eating when
broiled among hot cinders, and is a meal for a man,--some say two, some
three, while others allege that it is not enough for one.  But "a meal
for a man" is a very uncertain standard, and depends a good deal on the
capacity of the man's stomach and the state of his appetite.  A better
standard is found in the estimate that one ostrich-egg is equal in
quantity to twenty-four of the common domestic fowl.

The shells of the ostrich-eggs are very strong, and used by the Bushmen
and other natives of the desert as water-vessels--the only vessels that
some of them have.

A full-grown cock ostrich stands over nine feet in height, and weighs
three hundred pounds.  The legs of such a bird are immensely thick and
muscular, and the thigh-joint equals in size the largest leg of mutton.

The ostrich is thought to be the swiftest runner in creation, but there
are doubts about this.  Certain it is that it cannot be overtaken by a
horse in a fair tail-on-end chase; but the bird makes "doubles" in
running, and by observing these, the mounted hunter sometimes gets near
it by making a cut upon it, and delivers his fire as it passes.  To run
an ostrich down, however, is considered an impossibility, even by the
Arab on his fleet steed.  Its bottom is equal to its speed, as it can
keep up the pace for hours together.

The muscular strength of its great long legs is well adapted for running
fast and far; and while on the run, its hoofs make a clatter like those
of a trotting horse, while large stones are flung violently to the rear!
When at full speed it spreads its white wing-plumes, raising them over
its back, but this is only done to balance it, as it could not fly a
single yard.

Its principal weapon of defence is the leg with its hoof-like foot.
With this it can kick like a mule, and the blow will break a man's leg,
or send the breath out of his body, as would the kick of a horse!

But the principal security of the ostrich lies in its splendid power of
vision, combined with its peculiar habitat.  It is always on the naked
plain, with nothing to interrupt the view, and its keen eye enables it
to perceive an enemy long before the latter can get near enough to do it
an injury.  So sharp is its sight, it can see even farther than it can
be seen, large as it is!

A most difficult matter it is to get within shooting distance of these
wary birds.  Sometimes a shot is obtained by lying in wait for them at
vleys, or springs, where they come to drink.  Many people deny that they
ever drink, as they are met with at great distances from water; but it
should be remembered that what may appear a great distance to a tired
traveller may be nothing to a fleet ostrich, who can fling the miles
behind like a race-horse.

Others have observed the ostrich come to drink at a particular place
once every day; and it is well known that in captivity they swallow
large quantities of water.  After drinking they do not run so well, and
hunters take advantage of this and run them down after leaving the pool.

There are hunters residing upon the desert karoos, who hunt the ostrich
as a profession.  The feathers are of considerable value, as well as the
skin, which is tough and strong, and tans into a fine species of
leather, out of which jackets and other garments are made.  A skin
without the feathers is worth about one pound sterling; and the long
white plumes of the wings and tail,--of which there are five-and-forty
(the finest are from the wings,)--are often sold for a shilling apiece
on the spot.

Groot Willem observed that the ostrich may be easily domesticated, and
he had frequently seen tame ones about the kraals of the frontier boors.
They are a useless pet, however; and, although quite harmless as far as
man is concerned, they become troublesome in the farm-yard, where they
trample the poultry to death, and sometimes gobble up chicks and young
ducks, not from any carnivorous propensity, but on account of their
extreme voracity: an old rag would be swallowed in the same way.

The proper food of the ostrich is tops of shrubby plants, with grain and
seeds, though they "bolt" many odd and indigestible substances.  They
are fond of salt, like most wild animals, and are often seen in large
flocks around the salt-pans, or "salines," many of which exist upon the
desert plains of Africa.

The flesh of the young ostrich is very palatable, but that of an old
bird is rather tough and rank.  Their eggs, however, are esteemed a
delicacy, though some think them heavy.

The voice of the ostrich under ordinary circumstances is a deep sonorous
chuckle, though at times it gives out a roar resembling that of the
lion.  When wounded or brought to bay, it hisses like an enraged gander.

So much for the ostrich; and now Hans proceeded, as he had promised, to
say a word or two about its relatives.

The "rhea" is its South American representative, but it has been lately
discovered that there are two distinct species in South America, the
"nandu," (_Rhea Americana_), and the "petise," or Darwin's rhea, (_Rhea
Darwinii_).  They resemble each other in form, colour, and general
habits, but differ in size and geographical range.  The nandu is the
larger, and dwells upon the wide plains of La Plata, whereas the petise
is confined to the southern part of Patagonia.

The nandu resembles the African bird in form, and its dingy brown colour
is not far from that of the hen ostrich.  Its size, however, is much
less, being only five feet in height.  The plumes of its wings are less
beautiful and valuable than those of its African cousin, though they are
also a marketable article, being used for fly-brushes and other
household implements.

The habits of the rhea show a great similarity to those of the
_Struthio_, and it is quite a folly to make separate genera of them.

The rhea is gregarious, polygamous, scoops a slovenly nest in the
ground, hatches from twenty to thirty eggs, scatters many others around,
runs swiftly when pursued, hisses and kicks violently when assailed, and
is shy and wary.  All these are habits of the ostrich.  The rhea,
however, has some peculiarities.  It feeds upon small fish cast up on
the mud banks of rivers, and on roots and grass.  It also takes freely
to the water, and can cross rapid streams by swimming.  The gauchos hunt
it with both _lazo_ and _bolas_.

Darwin's rhea is less in size, but very similar in colour, form, and
habits.  It also swims well, and frequents plains near the coast.  It is
beyond doubt a very closely allied species to _Rhea Americana_, but a
bird of a colder habitat.

The nandu is not found in North America, nor any species of bird allied
to the ostrich.  In this respect Nature has neglected the vast desert
plains of prairie-land.

Even in South America the range of the rhea is limited, and does not
extend to the equator, though it comes much farther within the tropics
than is generally imagined.  It has lately been seen on the savannahs of
the Madeira River, far to the north of the La Plata plains.

Another cousin of the ostrich is the "emeu," (_Dromanis Novae
Hollandiae_).  I give the clumsy title of the closet-naturalists, though
there is no reason in the world why this bird should be separated from
the genus of either ostrich or rhea, except to confuse the student of
natural history.

In form and habits it resembles both, and in colour it is quite like the
rhea.  It is, however, a much taller bird--standing seven feet--and a
full-grown male approaches the standard of a hen ostrich.

It has all the characteristics of the ostrich--is gregarious,
polygamous, nestles on the ground, shy, wary, runs swiftly, swims well,
kicks so as to kill a dog or break the leg of a man, utters an odd
drumming note, and lays eggs nearly as large as those of the ostrich,
but of deep green colour.  The eggs of the rhea are of a bluish cast.

It is supposed that, like the rhea, there are two species of emeu--
another and smaller one having been reported as existing in the northern
parts of the great island of Australia.

In the peninsula of Malacca and the islands of the Asiatic Archipelago,
the ostrich has a representative that differs from it more than either
rhea or emeu.  This is the cassowary, (_Cassuarius cassoar_).  Its body
is covered with a thick coat of feathers of a deep black colour, and so
disposed as to present a hairy appearance, while its head and neck are
naked, the skin of these parts being of the loveliest blue-purple and
scarlet blended together.

The cassowary differs from the ostriches in many respects.  It is not a
bird of the desert, but dwells in fertile districts and feeds upon soft
succulent herbage.  It resembles the ostriches, however, in most of its
habits.  Like them it defends itself by kicking, deposits its eggs on
the ground, and leaves them to be hatched by the sun; is bold when
assailed, is fleet and strong, and altogether may be regarded as one of
the most interesting of the tribe, or of birds in general.

Hans mentioned the "apteryx," or kiwi-kiwi, only to say that there were
two species of it very much alike, both natives of New Zealand, both
nocturnal and burrowing in their habits; and Hans added that he did not
regard them as belonging to the ostrich family at all, any more than the
"auks" or "penguins."  Thus ended the talk about the wingless birds.



CHAPTER THIRTEEN.

THE FENNEC AND THE OSTRICH-EGGS.

Before retiring to rest, the young yagers had resolved upon a pleasant
performance for the morrow--that was, a "surround" of the ostriches.
They had planned it that Hendrik and Groot Willem should go first, and
ride a large circuit around, so as to get far beyond the nest.  Arend
and Hans would start shortly after taking different sides, while Klaas
and Jan should cover the direction towards the camp.  In this way the
six, widely separated from each other, would enclose the birds in a
circle; and when the latter became alarmed and started to run, they were
to be "headed" by whoever was nearest, and turned back to the opposite
side.  This is the mode practised by the South African hunters, and is
the only way by which the ostrich can be tired out and run down, for on
such occasions, if the "surround" be well managed, the bird becomes
confused, runs from one side to the other, and at length suffers itself
to be captured or shot.  It is a dangerous matter, however, to approach
too near the game even when "blown" or wounded.  A wounded ostrich has
been known to send the hunter sprawling, and break a leg or an arm, or a
pair of ribs, by one fling of its muscular limb!  Hans, in his usual
prudent way, had cautioned his companions to beware of this danger.

They all went to rest with feelings of pleasant anticipation for the
morrow.  They had high hopes they would either kill or capture the old
cock, and pluck his snow-white plumes to add to their "trophies."

The only drawback upon their plans appeared to be their number.  They
had doubts whether six could surround the ostriches, so as to head and
turn them--especially as of the six two were little boys mounted on
small ponies, for the chargers ridden by Klaas and Jan were of this
character.

It was resolved, however, that Congo and Swartboy should help to form
the circle.  They had no horses, but both were active afoot, and either
could run quite as fast as the ponies.  The one armed with his assegais,
and the other with his tiny bow and poisoned arrows, they would be well
worth a place in the ring; and the ostriches would thus have eight,
instead of six, points in the compass closed up against them.  Add to
this, that there were the six buck-dogs to assist them, and it will be
acknowledged that their prospect of capturing the ostriches was not so
bad.

Sad to say, their hopes of a brilliant day's sport ended in complete
disappointment.  All their fine plans were frustrated by a singular
occurrence.

A hyena during the night had stolen into camp, and had eaten up the
girth and part of the flaps of Hendriks saddle; and before the damage
could be repaired the ostriches had gone off from the nest.

They were still around it when the hunters arose, but the delay in
mending the saddle was fatal to the plan of a "surround."  The morning
was a hot sultry one, and the birds leaving their business to the sun,
went early away.  Just as the boys were mounting, they saw them move off
in long strides towards the opposite side of the plain.

They were soon out of sight of the naked eye; but Hans followed them
with his glass, until that also failed to keep them in view.

It was a great disappointment to everybody, just as it would be to a
field of fox-hunters, who, after getting into the saddle, had found
themselves driven back to their stables by frost and snow.  Hendrik was
particularly out of temper, on account of the ill luck that had befallen
his saddle; and if a hyena had shown itself at that moment, it would
have stood a fair chance of getting a bullet into its body.  All the
others, though in a less degree, shared Hendrik's uncomfortable
reflections.

All six sat chafing in their saddles, not knowing what to do.

"Let us ride out to the nest," proposed Arend.  "At all events, the eggs
have not `stole away.'  We'll get them, and, by the way, I shouldn't
object to an omelette for breakfast," (they had not yet breakfasted:)
"I'm tired enough of venison and dry biltong.  What say you?"

"By all means," rejoined Groot Willem; "let us bring in the eggs, and
breakfast on them--that is, if they're not too far gone.  I should like
an egg for breakfast myself.  Come on then!"

"Stop!" cried Hans; "stop a moment, yagers!  Perhaps we'll not be
disappointed--we may have a chase yet."

Hans had the glass to his eye as he spoke.

"What!" inquired several; "are they coming back?"

Hans made no reply for a moment.  He could not be looking after the
ostriches.  His telescope was pointed in the direction of the nest.  The
birds were not there!

"It is it!--it is! the very creature itself!" exclaimed Hans, in a
half-soliloquy.

"What is it? what creature?" demanded the boys.

"The fox!" replied Hans.

"What fox!"

"Why, the fennec--the same I saw last night--yonder it is, though you
can't see it with the naked eye.  I can barely make it out with the
glass.  It is up close by the nest of the ostriches, and appears busy
about something."

"The eggs, I warrant," suggested Groot Willem.

"A fox-chase! a fox-chase!" exclaimed Hendrik, partially recovering
temper.

"A fox-chase!" echoed Klaas and Jan.

"A fox-chase be it then," assented Hans; and all six set their horses in
motion, whistling to the buck-dogs to follow.

They headed directly for the ostriches' nest.  They were not going to
make a circuit for such an insignificant creature as the little fennec.
They knew that it could only escape them by getting to a hole, as they
had dogs that could trail and run it down go where it would.  It was
probable that its burrow was not very near.  It had evidently strayed
away from home, and "dogged" the ostriches to their nest, so as to get
at their eggs.  Swartboy alleged that such was its habit--that it was
fonder of eggs than any other food--and that the eggs of the great bird
were its particular favourites.  That it was constantly roving about in
search of ostrich-nests; and as these are very difficult, even for a fox
to find, the fennec, when it suspects that the ostriches are laying,
will follow them for miles to discover the nest--just as Hans had seen
this one do.

Swartboy had given all this information on the preceding night, which,
of course, explained the mystery of such a small creature running upon
the trail of the great ostriches.  It was not _them_, but _their eggs_,
it wanted.

Now there was still a mystery Swartboy had not explained; and that was,
how this animal, when it found the eggs, was able to _get at their
contents_?  The shell of the ostrich-egg is thick and strong.  It
requires a considerable blow with some hard weapon to break it, and how
a puny creature, like the little fennec, could effect a breach was a
mystery to all, but especially to the naturalist Hans.  The fennec was
no stranger to him.  He had seen many of them in captivity.  He knew
something of their anatomy.  He knew that their skulls were destitute of
the ridge in which the temporal muscles are inserted, and that
consequently they were weak-jawed animals--much more so than the common
fox.  It was not possible for them to have broken the shell of an
ostrich-egg with their jaws.  He knew that it was equally impossible for
them to effect that purpose with the claws of their feet--the soles of
which are covered with soft wool, as in the Arctic fox--a peculiarity
considering that the fennec is an inhabitant of the hottest climes, and
one quite unexplained by naturalists!

From the strength and structure of the animal, Hans believed it could no
more have got at the contents of an ostrich-egg than it could have eaten
its way into the heart of a bomb-shell.

Swartboy was here at fault.  He only knew that it _did_ get at the
contents, white and yolk; but _how_ he had never observed.  He could not
tell.  He could not solve the mystery.

They had not long to wait in doubt about this matter.  In less than ten
minutes after, the fennec himself presented the solution before the
astonished eyes of the young yagers.

When they had ridden up within some three hundred yards of the nest the
little animal came under the view of all, and they pulled up to watch
his manoeuvres.  He was so busy about his own affairs, that he had not
perceived their approach.  The ground was covered with soft sand, so
that the hoofs made no noise, and with all his keen sense of hearing--
for he possesses that in proportion to his large ears--he had not caught
a sound.  He was hard at work, and never looked towards them.  In fact,
he was seen to raise his head at intervals, and look towards the point
whither the ostriches had gone, and all his gazing was in that
direction.  The party had, therefore, a good view of the animal without
being observed by him; and they watched his manoeuvres with interest.

Swartboy and the Kaffir held the dogs in their leashes, and all remained
silent as statues.

Now what was the little fennec doing?

At first the spectators were puzzled to make out, but presently all was
explained.

When they first saw him he was at a distance of several yards from the
nest, and going farther from it, on the opposite side to that where the
hunters had halted.  His tail was towards them, and the fore-part of his
body appeared to be raised as if his paws rested upon something.  This
something was seen to be an ostrich's egg.  He was pushing it before him
along the ground, using his feet alternately, and forcing the _egg_ to
turn.  This action was similar to that of some unfortunate fellow on the
tread-mill, except that it was voluntary on the part of the fennec.

Now why was he rolling the _egg_?  Did he mean to transport it in that
way to his burrow?  It would have been an arduous task, as it was not
likely his subterranean dwelling was anywhere in that neighbourhood.

But he had no such design.  His intention was to eat his breakfast on
that very spot, or at all events very near it; and the spectators soon
saw where his table was to be spread, for some of them now remembered an
odd story they had heard of the caama, and already suspected his design.

About three or four yards from his snout lay a stone.  It was a boulder
of small dimensions, some twelve inches in height, but quite large
enough for the fennec's purpose.  It was evident that he had a purpose
with this stone, for he was rolling the egg directly towards it.  Those
who had guessed his design were not disappointed.  When his snout was
within about three feet of the stone, the fennec made a sudden rush
forward, carrying the egg along by a rapid motion of his feet, until the
hard shell came in contact with the harder rock.

A "crash" reached the ears of the hunters, and, looking attentively,
they saw that the egg was broken into "smithereens!"

The breakfast of the fennec was now before him, and he at once set about
eating it, but the hunters were hungry too, their patience could hold
out no longer, and spurring their horses and letting slip the dogs, they
galloped forward.

It was a short run for a fox to give.  The creature had hardly made good
a couple of hundred yards, before the buck-dogs threw him; and it was
just as much as Swartboy could do, aided by his jambok of
hippopotamus-hide, to save his beautiful skin from their jaws.

The eggs were soon collected.  Those in the nest had "gone too far," as
Groot Willem had feared: some contained chicks, and others were addled.
But of the ones scattered about several turned out quite fresh, so that
the hunters had omelette for breakfast, as they had wished.

Swartboy showed them how to cook the eggs to perfection.  This mode was
to set one end in the ashes, break a hole in the other, and then with a
little stick keep stirring the contents until they were sufficiently
broiled.  That is an omelette of ostrich-eggs.



CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

THE BLAUW-BOKS.

After all, the young yagers were not to be disappointed in a chase.  If
the fox of South Africa gives but poor sport, there are plenty of other
animals, neither so weak-limbed nor short-winded; and one of this kind
it was their fortune to fall in with on that same day, and almost within
the hour.

On the other side of the mokhala grove from that on which the ostriches
had been observed, lay a wide open plain.  It was not a desert, although
it approached so near to one,--separated from it only by a belt of
timber.  It was a prairie or natural meadow, the grass--perhaps from
contrast with the broad brown expanse on the other side--having an
extremely fresh green look.

It was a large plain, though not limitless to the view.  In the distance
could be seen a wood of the giraffe-acacia, or "cameel-doorns," bounding
the horizon; and several clumps of these trees, with their umbrella-like
heads and feathery fronds of pale green, stood isolated upon the plain,
giving the scene altogether an interesting aspect.  A very park appeared
this plain, with wide open pastures between its groves and coppices,
many of which were of such regular forms that one would have fancied
they had been planted to adorn it.

So lordly a park, such rich pastures, could not be untenanted; nor were
they.  There was no mansion, no house, not a trace of a human being to
be seen, but for all that the plain had its denizens.  Many forms could
be distinguished upon or around it, both of winged and wingless
creatures.  Birds and quadrupeds of rare and beautiful kinds made this
fair scene their home.

Over its greensward stalks the "secretary," the true serpent-eater,
hunting among the grass for his glittering prey.  Even without using his
wings, he need not fear any of the crouching _carnivora_, as his long
legs suffice to carry him far beyond reach of either hyena, jackal, wild
dog, guepard, or leopard.  Swift is he, almost as the great ostrich
itself,--so swift as to have earned from the Arabs the singular
_sobriquet_ of the "Devil's horse."

Not far off another tall bird stands erect upon the plain, but of very
different character and habits.  This is the "pauw" or "wild peacock,"--
a peacock only in the phraseology of the boors, for the bird is a
bustard, and the largest of his tribe--the _Otis kori_.

Running from copse to copse, or feeding over the plain, may be seen
flocks of the pearly guinea-fowl, (_Numida meleagris_), whose constant
chattering grates harshly on the ear, resembling the metallic clanking
of machinery, or the sharpening of a hundred saws.

From tree to tree flutter gaudy parrots, green pigeons, and soft cooing
doves, and over flowery shrubs flit numerous species of tiny
"honey-suckers,"--the African representatives of the humming-birds.
Some trees carry the pensile nests of the weaver-bird, (_Ploceus_),
hanging from their branches like large fruits, while many of the
cameel-doorns are loaded with the vast thatch-like republican dwellings
of the sociable grosbeak, (_Loxia socia_).

But birds are not the only tenants of this fair scene.  Quadrupeds, as
bright and beautiful as they, haunt its verdant glades, or repose under
the grateful shadow of its acacia-groves.

In a few hours' ride one might see graceful antelopes of many species.
The nimble springbok--the gazelle of South Africa--might be observed
trooping over the sward, or bounding high in air either in sport or
alarm--the orange "hartebeest," and the purple "sassybe," might be
seen--the shaggy-maned eccentric gnoo, scouring the plain in circles--
droves of quaggas, or of the still more beautiful "zebra of the plains,"
(_Equus Burchellii_), might be seen too, crouching around the copses,
the leopard, fair but fearful to look upon; and still more fearful to
behold the tawny tyrant of the scene--the lion.

All these creatures, and many more of equal interest, might come under
the eye of the traveller or hunter during a single day's ride through
that wild domain.

Thus full of life, what a contrast did this beautiful meadow present to
the monotonous waste of wilderness, that stretched away from the
opposite side of the grove to the far horizon!

Baulked in their projected "surround" of the ostriches--disappointed by
the "poor sport" which the fox had afforded, the hunter-boys were
determined not to be "choused" out of a chase.  Some sort of one they
would have, if it were only a brush after springboks, for these, they
knew, they could find at any time.  They were aware of the existence of
the fine plain--the edge of which came up within a few hundred yards of
their camp.  They had pastured their cattle there on the evening before;
and conjectured that it must be the haunt of many kinds of game.  For
this reason they now resolved upon making an excursion to that quarter,
to hunt whatever might turn up.

They came to this determination, only after their return from the
ostriches' nest; but as they had made up their minds to it before eating
breakfast, they did not off-saddle, but kept their horses ready for
being mounted.

As soon as the meal was over, they took once more to their saddles and
rode off, the buck-dogs following at the heels of their horses.  Congo
and Swartboy stayed by the camp.

They had not far to go, before coming in view of their game; and rare
game that was.

They were scarce yet a hundred paces from the camp, and just about to
ride out from the timber, when Hendrik, in the advance, suddenly reined
up his horse, making a sign for the others to do the same.  All pulled
up in a breath, and sat in their saddles, gazing out through the leaves.
Though still within the shadow of the grove, all had a good view of the
open plain; and before them was a sight that would have warmed the
hearts of older hunters than they.

Out upon the plain, and directly in front of them, was a herd of noble
antelopes.  They were neither gnoos, nor springboks, nor hartebeests,
nor any of the common kinds that the party had already met with, and had
hunted to their satisfaction.  Indeed, they were of a species that none
of the six had _ever seen_ before, and they only knew them to be
antelopes from the make of their bodies, the shape of their horns, and
other points characteristic of these animals.

They were antelopes of large size, standing nearly four feet high,
having sabre-shaped horns curving gently backward and ringed to within
six inches of their tips.  Their general colour was ashy grey, tinged
with raven-blue--the blue tint being caused by the deep black colour of
the skin shining through the hair.

Although none of the party had ever seen such antelopes before, Hans,
and also the hunters Hendrik and Groot Willem, guessed what kind they
were.  They were of a kind that once ranged the Graaf Reinet, and even
as far south as the Cape itself, though there they were never common.
That was long before any of the young yagers had ever fired a gun or
mounted a horse, but as these remembered having heard their fathers
talking of this animal--of its blue colour, of its long curving horns,
of its fine outline of form, as well as bold fierce character--they
recognised those before them by the descriptions they had heard.  They
could be no other than _blue-bucks_, or _blauw-boks_ in the language of
the boors.

Hans, after eyeing them a moment, gave this as his opinion.  The species
was the blauw-bok, the _Aigocerus leucophea_ of modern systematists.

Now of the group of antelopes to which the general name _Aigocerus_ has
been given there are five species--all large noble animals, and all
inhabitants of South Africa, and particularly the countries adjacent to
the Great Orange River.

First, there is the "waterbuck," (_Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_), which
stands nearly four feet in height, is of bluish grey colour, frequents
the banks of rivers, takes the water freely--whence its trivial name--
swims well, is bold, fierce, strong, and dangerous, when bayed or
wounded.

Secondly, there is the "takhaitze," (_Aigocerus barbatus_), nearly as
large as the waterbuck, but distinguished by a long beard and mane.  The
character of the waterbuck for fierceness and daring also belongs to the
takhaitze, and both are swift runners.  The latter, however, is less
attached to the water, and frequents a hilly region, browsing goat-like
upon the leaves of the acacia.

The third of this genus is the "roan antelope," (_Aigocerus equinus_), a
strong fierce animal, with horns curving backwards as in the blue-buck,
but thicker, and more rapid in the curve.  It is an antelope not of the
plains, but a dweller in the hilly region.

The "sable antelope" (_Aigocerus niger_) is by far the most beautiful
animal of the group.  It is not many years since this antelope was made
known to science, having been discovered in South Africa by a keen
British sportsman.  It is one of the largest of the race, standing four
feet six inches in height, and carrying a pair of scimitar-shaped horns
over three feet in length.  Its colour is a deep glossy black or sable--
whence its specific appellation--though it is white underneath with
white markings about the head and neck.  None of the antelopes of this
group are of common occurrence even in their native haunts.  None of the
species can be called gregarious--that is, they do not appear in large
herds, like the springboks, gnoos, hartebeests, or bonteboks--though
small troops of less than a dozen--families, in fact--may be seen
together.  Oftener they are met with in pairs, or single individuals,
and they are all scarce in the regions they inhabit when compared with
the vast herds of the more social kinds.

The blue-buck is now one of the very rarest of the group, so much so
that some naturalists believe it to be extinct.  That is not likely.
Africa is a large country.

Now all this information was furnished by philosopher Hans.  He did not
offer it just then--that is when they came in sight of the herd of
blue-bucks; though he would, likely enough, had the others been inclined
to listen to him.

But they were not.  The hunters Hendrik and Groot Willem were gazing
with eyes wide open, admiring the beautiful proportions of the
blauw-boks, which promised them a glorious run.



CHAPTER FIFTEEN.

A BRUSH AFTER THE BLUE-BUCKS.

As already stated, there were seven antelopes in the herd.  One, an old
buck, larger than any of the rest, and having horns over three feet
long, was in the advance acting as leader.  When first observed, they
were approaching the grove of mokhalas--perhaps to reach the water by
the spring.  So thought the yagers, and held a hurried consultation
about it, as they watched the advance of the animals.  Hurried it was,
and abruptly terminated, for before they could come to any definite plan
of action, one of the buck-dogs, a young and half-trained animal, sprang
forward out of cover, and opened his bay right in the faces of the
antelopes.

The whole seven wheeled round in their tracks, and obedient to a
snorting signal of the leader, started back in the direction they had
come, going at top speed.

Of course all idea of stratagem was foiled by the unexpected behaviour
of the dog.  A straight tail-on-end chase was the only course left the
hunters to follow; and, plying the spur, all the six shot out of the
timber, and rode "view halloo" over the open plain.

A splendid chase it was for several minutes--the seven blue-bucks in
advance, the dogs in the middle, and the "field" following in the rear.
A splendid chase, indeed!

But only for a few minutes did dogs, hunters, and game, maintain these
relative positions.  The horsemen spread first.  The ponies of Klaas and
Jan fell to the rear, and were soon distanced.  Then lagged the
philosopher Hans, whose cob, though steady under fire, and a good
roadster, was no hunter; and, next, the handsome Arend,--who might have
taken a better place, for his steed was a good one.  But Arend cared but
little for hunting, and less for hard riding under a hot sun; and having
permitted himself to get so far behind that the view of the chase was no
longer interesting, he reined up under the shade of a cameel-doorn, and
commenced fanning himself with the gauntlet of his military glove!

There were two, however, who still rode to the dogs with the keen ardour
of sportsmen--Hendrik and Groot Willem; and from a feeling of rivalry,
as already hinted at, each was determined to be in at the death.

Both were well mounted, though very dissimilarly.  The horse that
Hendrik rode was a beautiful coal-black, of medium size, with a dash of
the Arab in him--just enough to make of him what is termed a "hunter,"--
a breed the finest in the world, and for all purposes, except
_race-course gambling_, finer even than the Arabian itself.

Groot Willem's horse differed widely from this kind; and the same
description that has been given of Groot Willem, or one very similar,
would answer for his steed.

In size, he bore the same proportion to Hendrik's hunter that his rider
bore to Hendrik--that is, he was a full half bigger; but his own members
were out of all proportion with each other.

His body was flat and gaunt, and his limbs long and bony.  His neck also
was of an immense length, without the slightest semblance of a curve;
and his head was angular and "bumpy," like that of a giraffe.  He had
other points of similarity to this singular quadruped, in his rough
awkward gait, and long-stumped thin-haired tail; and the young yagers,
in view of these resemblances, had jocosely christened him
"Groot-Kameel," (Great Camel).  He was about as ugly a horse as could
have been found in all the land of the boors; and yet his owner, Groot
Willem, would not have exchanged him for the handsomest horse in Africa.

Notwithstanding his ugliness, he was a good horse.  In jockey phrase, "a
bad 'un to look at, a good 'un to go."  Groot Willem was no man for
appearances.  He liked performance better than promise; and the "Great
Camel" was the type of that idea--he promised nothing, but performed
amazingly.  Many a quagga, and wildebeest and sassybe, had he ridden
down; many a stanch buck-dog had he tired out and passed in the chase
with the heavy weight of Groot Willem on his back.  No wonder the latter
felt a high regard for his well-trained hunting horse.

Hendrik had an equal affection for his beautiful black; and as no
opportunity had yet offered of a fair trial between the two steeds, a
good deal of talk had passed about their respective merits as regarded
speed and "bottom."  On the question of beauty nothing could be said.
Hendrik had the advantage there; and even Groot Willem acknowledged it,
at the same time that he sneered at _that_ being considered a "merit" in
a horse.

The chase of the blauw-boks seemed to offer the chance of a fair trial.
The animals had taken across the open plain, which would lead the
hunters several miles at least, as the game was not one to be run down
in a hurry.  In a ride like that before them, it would be seen which
backed the best steed.

Both riders were determined to make the most of their horses.  Both were
wary hunters, and, instead of dashing forward at break-neck speed, it
could be seen that each was "going cunning," and saving their steeds for
the final burst.  Hendrik felt that in speed for a mile or two he could
have headed the "Camel" easily enough.  But the bucks had got a good
start, and it was not likely he could overtake them within that
distance.  He held up, therefore, riding gently, lest in the end the
great horse of his rival might come out too strong for him.

For some distance the two galloped "cheek by jowl," the dogs far in the
advance, and the bucks still running together before them.  The latter
did not seek to escape into the bushes, though they passed near several
large copses.  They kept in the open plain, in a course nearly direct.
Stag-like they were running for some water--as antelopes of the
_aigocerine_ group habitually do.

But the dogs did not husband their speed, some of them were young and
foolish, although very swift; and before the bucks had passed over a
mile of ground, two or three of their canine pursuers pushed them so
closely that the herd broke, and the antelopes, in their terror, forsook
each other, and ran wildly in various directions.

The character of the hunt was now quite altered.  The pack split up just
as the game had done, each dog following the antelope that seemed
nearest him, and in a few moments the chase was scattered all over the
plain.

The two hunters had now a choice, whether each should pursue a separate
game, or both take after the same.  But neither thought for a moment of
separating from the other, except by _heading_ him.  The spirit of
rivalry, though silent, was strongly felt by both.  Even the very horses
seemed to be actuated by a similar feeling, eyeing each other askance,
as they galloped side by side!

The antelope that both were determined to follow was easily selected
from the rest.  The old buck that hitherto led the herd had now gone off
by himself, followed by a pair of the stanchest dogs.  _His_ horns were
the meteors that gleamed in the _eyes_ of our hunters, and beckoned them
on.

Without exchanging a word with each other, both rode after the buck.



CHAPTER SIXTEEN.

GROOT WILLEM GETS A TUMBLE.

The chase was now one of exceeding interest, and had become a simple
trial of speed between horses, dogs, and antelope.  The buck had kept on
in a direct line, when the others broke away from him.  He had been
foremost at the time, and had no need to turn out of his course.
Besides he knew where he was running to.  Terror had driven the others
out of their senses, and they had fled without design, while the old
buck, not losing his "presence of mind," kept on for the water.

A dark belt seen ahead was a forest fringing some stream or river.  That
was the point he was making for, but a wide plain must be crossed before
he could wet his hoof in any water.  Over this plain now swept the
chase.

Oddly enough, the two dogs that had chosen the buck for their game were
rival dogs--that is, each hunter was owner of one of them, and regarded
him as a favourite; and all three kinds, dogs, horses, and riders,
seemed to be on their mettle, and were doing their very best.

Do not fancy there was any ill-feeling between Groot Willem and Hendrik.
Nothing of the sort.  Each loved his horse and his dog, and wished them
to excel--each had his hunter reputation at stake in the result--and
each had resolved upon carrying the head and horns of that blue-buck in
triumph to the camp!

Notwithstanding all this, there was no "bad blood" between the boys.
Nothing of the sort.

Beautifully the buck ran.  Lightly he leaped over the turf, his limbs at
each spring stretching to an almost horizontal line, with head high in
air and horns curving backward to his flanks.  Well and beautifully he
ran!

Sometimes he gained on his pursuers, as the nature of the ground
favoured his hoofs; but again the strong buck-dogs howled upon his
heels, and the hunters galloped but a hundred yards behind him.  The
blue of his back soon changed to a deeper tint, as the sweat poured
through his sable skin, and the froth in large flakes clouted his neck
and shoulders.  His red tongue hung dripping from his jaws, and the
hunters might have heard his hard breathing but for the panting of their
own steeds.

Five miles did they go in that wild gallop--five miles without drawing
rein or changing pace!

The woods were near--perhaps the water!  The buck would gain them if not
hard pressed--there might be a deep reach of some large river--the
blauw-bok can swim like a duck--he would plunge in--they could not
follow--they would lose him!

With such fears the hunters spurred their horses for a final burst.
Their speed had proved nearly equal.  Now was the time to try their
"bottom."

Both shot forward at the fresh touch of the steel; but at the second or
third spring the ground under the "Great Camel" gave way, and the huge
horse with his heavy rider rolled headlong to the earth!

He had broken through the burrow of the _aard-wolf_!

Hendrik, who had shot a little ahead, heard the confused noise behind,
and, looking over his shoulder, saw Groot Willem and the "Camel"
struggling together over the turf.  A more attractive object, however,
was in front of him--the panting buck--and without making halt, or
staying to inquire whether his fellow-hunter was hurt--a pardonable
neglect among sportsmen--he pressed his wearied horse still forward and
onward.

In five minutes after, the buck stood to bay by the edge of the timber,
and the dogs rushed up and sprang at him.  It was a fatal spring for one
of them--the favourite of Groot Willem.  The luck was against him, as it
had gone against his master.  A single "gowl" came from his throat, as
he was flung back off the sharp horns of the antelope.  It was the last
note he ever uttered, for in a moment more he had kicked his last kick,
and lay lifeless upon the plain!

And very likely Hendrik's favourite would have shared the same fate; but
his master at this moment riding near, caused the blue-buck a fresh
alarm, and he broke bay, and dashed into the bushes followed by the dog.

Hendrik now lost sight of the chase, though he could hear the breaking
branches, as the strong antelope made his way through the thicket, and
the baying of the dog still told him the direction in which the game was
going.

Putting his horse to a more moderate pace, he followed through the
_bosch_, as well as he could.  He expected every moment to hear the
hound bark, the signal that the buck had again stood to bay, but he was
doomed to disappointment.  No such sound reached his ears.

He began to think that the buck was lost, and that, after all the
chances in his favour, he would return to camp with no better story to
tell than his rival.  He was becoming exceedingly chagrined with the
turn things had taken, when, to his further chagrin, he heard a loud
plunge, as of some heavy object falling into deep water.  He knew it was
the buck.  Another plunge!--that was the dog.

There was a river ahead--the antelope had taken to it, and would now
escape to a certainty.  The water seemed near--there was an open tract
that led in that direction.  Perhaps he might be in time.  Perhaps he
might get to the bank before the buck could reach the opposite shore.  A
bullet from his rifle might yet secure the game.

Without hesitating a moment he again spurred his horse, and galloped
down the hill in the direction of the water.

There _was_ a river, and in a few seconds' time Hendrik was on its bank.
He had arrived at a place where the water was deep and the current
still, but the rippling wave on the surface guided him.  Two objects
were seen above the surface moving rapidly across.  They were the horns
of the buck and the head of the buck-dog!

Hendrik had no time to alight.  Before he could steady his horse, the
blauw-bok had got out of the water, and was climbing up the opposite
bank.  There was just time for a hurried shot.  The broad back of the
antelope offered a fair mark, and the next moment a tuft of the hair
near the spine, was seen to fly up like a spark, while a red stream
spouted from the spot.  The crack of a rifle explained this phenomenon;
and before its echoes had died away, the antelope came tumbling down the
slope, and lay motionless by the edge of the water.

The horns were Hendrik's!



CHAPTER SEVENTEEN.

A TOUGH STRUGGLE.

The horns were Hendrik's!

So thought Hendrik, when, at the crack of his rifle, he saw the buck
roll backward down the bank into the very jaws of the buck-dog.

He was mistaken, however--as he had reason to think the moment after--
when the antelope, instead of lying still where it had fallen, rose to
its feet again, beat off the dog with its horns, and springing over him,
once more plunged into the river!  The dog bounded after, and, swimming
faster than the antelope, overtook it near the middle of the stream,
seizing it by the quarters as he got within reach.  The strong buck soon
shook him off, and turning short upon his persecutor, struck at him in
the water.  Two or three times the hound was under its horns, but the
water yielding saved Hendrik's favourite from destruction, although more
than once he was forced under the surface.

This struggle was kept up for some moments.  The river ran red, blood
pouring from the wound of the bullet, as well as from the flanks of the
antelope, lacerated by the tusks of his canine assailant.  The blood of
the hound also helped to colour the current--for the sharp horns of the
buck had been used to some purpose, and several gashes appeared in the
hide of the dog, from which the crimson flood streamed copiously.

After delivering his fire, Hendrik had alighted, not with the intention
of reloading, but merely to secure his prize, which, as he supposed, had
been finished by the shot.  He was about tying his bridle to a branch;
but, before he had succeeded in making a knot, the renewed struggle on
the opposite bank, followed by the plunge, caused him suddenly to drop
the reins and again lay hold of his rifle.

He loaded with all haste, and ran forward to the bank.

There was a fringing of willow-bushes along the edge of the river.  In
the saddle Hendrik had been able to look over them, and at that
elevation commanded a view of the water.  Afoot he could not see it,
except obscurely through the tops of the willows.  He could only see
that the water was waving with eddies and covered with frothy bubbles.
He could hear that a struggle was going on between buck and buck-dog,
but the combatants had got close in to the willows, and the leaves
prevented Hendrik from seeing either of them.

At one place there was a break in the willows, where the bank sloped
downward to the water's edge.  It was a mere pathway, made by wild
animals in going to drink.  On both sides of it the bushes grew thick,
forming a narrow lane or alley.

Hendrik's eye fell upon this path, and the next moment he was hastening
down it.  The antelope from the river had also noted the path.  It was
the place easiest of access from the water, as there the bank was more
shelving than at any other point; and just at the time the hunter rushed
into it from the woods, the buck was entering its opposite end from the
water!

Both were going at full speed, and in five seconds' time they met face
to face in the narrow pathway!

There was no chance for either to make way for the other.  The close
thicket on each side prevented that.  There was no chance for either to
retreat; the impetuosity with which they were running rendered it
impossible for either to give back or even halt.  They must meet with a
fearful collision!

Such a meeting would be entirely to the advantage of the buck, and,
perhaps, to the total destruction of the hunter.

Hendrik saw this, and would have aimed at the buck and fired had time
been allowed him.  But so sudden and unexpected was the encounter that
he had not even time to get his rifle to the level, before the animal
was too near to admit of such delay.

He fired wildly without taking aim.  The bullet scored the back of the
antelope, only to add to its fury; and with head lowered and scimitars
set, it rushed onward upon the hunter.

It was a moment of peril for Hendrik.  Another moment, and he would have
been impaled upon the sharp horns; but at that instant, as if guided by
an impulse of instinct, he dropped his rifle, and ran forward towards
the buck, as if to fling himself upon its horns!

That was far from being his intention, however.  When within about three
feet of these horns, he gave a sudden bound and rose like a springbok
into the air!

That spring saved him.  Before he came down again the horns had passed
under him, and he fell heavily across the back of the buck.

The hind-quarters of the antelope sank under his weight, and Hendrik
slipped off; but before he could recover his feet, the furious animal
had turned, and was again springing upon him where he lay.

It would have been all up with Hendrik, had he been left to himself at
that moment.  But succour was nigh.

The buck-dog had reached the spot; and just as the antelope was making
his rush, the dog sprang forward, and, seizing it by the throat, hung
fast.

Hendrik received the blow, but the weight of the dog hanging to the
throat of the antelope prevented the latter from giving it with effect,
and the hunter was but slightly injured.

In an instant the buck kicked the dog off with its hoofs, and flung him
to the ground.  In another instant it would have finished him with its
horns; but Hendrik, from the sharp blow he had received, was now as
angry as the antelope itself, and was not going to see his favourite
hound killed before his eyes without making an effort to save him.
Warmed to the conflict, he thought no longer of retreating; and, drawing
his hunting-knife, he sprang forward upon the antelope, that, engaged
with the dog, chanced to stand broadside towards him.  With his left
hand the hunter grasped one of the horns near its tip; and, using this
as a fulcrum, he turned round upon it, and thrust the long blade between
the ribs of the buck!

It was a home-thrust--for the animal fell dead at Hendrik's feet before
he could let go his hold upon the horn.  The blade had passed through
its heart.

As soon as Hendrik had cooled a little from the conflict, he thought of
Groot Willem, who had not yet come up.  He began to fear that the latter
might have received some serious injury, and he determined to ride back
to the spot, letting the buck lie where it had fallen.  He could return
for it afterwards.  Fortunately his own well-trained horse had not run
off--though left with trailing bridle--and Hendrik was soon mounted and
riding back on the spoor of the chase.

There was one thing that mystified Hendrik not a little.  While battling
with the buck he had heard the loud report of Groot Willem's roer.  What
could he have fired at?  Had any of the other antelopes come in his way?
or was it a signal of distress?  Hendrik was mystified and felt some
apprehension.

He had not far to go to satisfy himself.  On reaching the edge of the
timber, he saw Groot Willem mounted and about starting forward to rejoin
him.  This was a joyful sight to Hendrik, as the fact that Groot Willem
was once more in the saddle and the "Camel" upon his legs again, was
good _prima facie_ evidence that neither had sustained any very serious
damage.

Nor had they, as Hendrik ascertained by riding up to the spot.  Groot
Willem was not so badly hurt as Hendrik himself, for the latter had one
of his arms well scored by the horns of the buck.  Groot Willem's
temper, however, was severely ruffled; and though Hendrik was very much
inclined to laugh at the accident, he forbore doing so, out of regard
for his friend's feelings.

Hendrik now inquired about the report he had heard.

Was it the roer?  Groot Willem answered his question in the affirmative,
by a simple nod, at the same time pointing to an odd-looking animal that
lay dead upon the ground, with all the appearance of having been freshly
killed.

Hendrik rode forward, and, bending down in his saddle, for some moments
regarded the animal.

A rare and singular creature it was.  It was about the size of a large
terrier, but shaped very differently.  It had the drooping hind-quarters
that distinguish the hyenas, and altogether the look of these animals;
but its muzzle was much more slender and pointed, its back more rounded,
and its limbs not so stout as those of the hyena's.  It was a more
agreeable creature to look upon, and although its hair was long, it had
a soft woolly appearance.  The general colour of the hair was grey with
a reddish tinge, and with black bands running transversely to the body
of the animal.  This as much as anything else caused it to resemble the
hyena--that is, the species known as the "striped hyena," (_Hyena
striata_).

It was not a hyena, however, but one of those odd animals that seem to
belong to no class of creatures, but form a connecting link between
several.  South Africa is especially prolific in such eccentric forms,
both among its birds and quadrupeds.  As an illustration of this, we
might mention the wild-hound, the hyrax, the zerda, the fennec, the
gnoo, and the aard-vark; and among birds, the serpent-eater, the
bateleur eagle, and several other kinds.  Most of these odd animals are
only represented by a single species, and that only to be found in South
Africa.

Now the creature that lay stretched out before the eyes of Hendrik was
just one of these zoological puzzles, that has occupied the attention of
the systematists for a long while.  Some have classed it among dogs,
others with hyenas, some make a civet of it, and others a fox.  With all
these animals it has affinities, both in habits and anatomical
structure, but it is not near enough to any to be regarded either as
dog, fox, civet, or hyena; and hence a genus has been created for
itself--the genus _Proteles_.  It was a _proteles_ that lay upon the
ground--_Proteles Delalandii_,--so called from its first describer, the
traveller De Lalande.

Hendrik and Groot Willem knew the animal by the name of "aard-wolf," or
earth-wolf, so called because it lives underground in a burrow of its
own making.  They knew it well enough, for it is common through all
South Africa--even in the settled districts, though on account of its
nocturnal and burrowing habits it is not often seen.  It makes itself
known to the boor by its evil propensities; and although he may rarely
get his eyes upon it, as it is never abroad by day, he is often called
upon to witness the dire effects of its midnight marauding.

The sheep of South Africa are of a singular breed--singular on account
of their large fleshy tails, consisting of a mass of almost pure fat
which often weighs several pounds, and is used by the colonial
housewives in many operations of cookery.  Now these tails, hanging to
the ground are the favourite _bonne-bouche_ of the aard-wolf, whose
jaws, not strong like those of the hyena, compel him to feed upon soft
substances.  It is, therefore, no uncommon thing for the vee-boor to get
up in the morning, and find several of his best sheep divested of their
valuable tails, and all through the voracity of the aard-vark.

It was not likely that either Groot Willem or Hendrik was ignorant of
the aard-vark.  Neither were they.  Hendrik did not ride up to examine
the animal out of curiosity.  He had seen such before, and killed them
too.  His object in bending over it was to see where Groot Willem's
bullet had hit.

"Where had the creature come from?" he inquired.

Groot Willem replied that it had issued from its burrow--the hole that
had caused the "Camel" to stumble.  That it had come out, just as he,
Groot Willem, recovered his feet; and that, provoked at it for having
been the cause of his misfortune, he had sent a bullet through it,
otherwise he would not have reckoned it worth his powder and lead.

This explained the report of the roer.

Hendrik and Groot Willem were now about to return for the buck, with the
intention of carrying as much of the meat to camp as they could manage
upon their horses; when Hans and Arend came up, and the four rode off
together.

They quartered the antelope, and each having packed a quarter upon his
croup, they set out for the camp.

All of them were in good spirits, except perhaps Groot Willem, who had
two reasons for feeling out of sorts,--the loss of his dog, and the loss
of a little of his hunter-fame.  And he was not permitted to forget his
accident so easily, for although Hendrik had forborne to give him
further chagrin, yet Hans and Arend did not deal so delicately with him,
but both laughed heartily at his unfortunate tumble.



CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

THE ARROW-POISON.

Klaas and Jan had long since ridden their ponies back to camp, and
having off-saddled, remained by the wagons.

For all that they were not idle--that is, they were not without
something to interest and amuse them.  Swartboy was the genius
worshipped by Klaas and Jan, for there was no bird in all Africa that
Swartboy could not either snare or trap; and in his hours of leisure,
when the oxen were kraaled and off his hands, he was in the habit of
showing the two young "mynheers" how to construct many a sort of decoy
and trap for the fowls of the air.

Upon this day in particular, however, they were more than usually
interested in the Bushman's proceedings, as his attention was turned to
capturing,--not a fowl of the air, but of the earth,--an ostrich.

Swartboy had resolved to pluck the plumes out of the old cock that had
been seen, and whose dwelling had been so rudely approached and
plundered in the morning.

But how was Swartboy to capture the cock?

It was not his intention to take him alive.  That is a difficult matter,
and can only be managed by men mounted upon fleet horses, and then after
a very long and troublesome chase.

Swartboy had no wish to take the ostrich alive.  The bird would be of no
use to him in that way, as the skin and plume-feathers were the spoils
upon which the Bushman's thoughts were bent, or rather the rix-dollars
which these would yield on Swartboy's return to Graaf Reinet.  Therefore
he did not intend to _catch_ the old cock, but _kill_ him, if he could.

But how was the Bushman to accomplish this?  Would he borrow the rifle
from Hendrik, or the great elephant-gun--the "roer"--from Groot Willem,
and shoot the ostrich?  Not likely.  Swartboy was no shot, that is, with
fire-arms.  He knew nothing about them; and with either rifle or roer he
could scarcely have hit an elephant, much less an ostrich!

But if Swartboy knew not how to manage a gun, he had a weapon of his own
that he did know how to manage,--his bow.  With that tiny bow,--scarce a
yard in length,--and those small slender arrows, the Bushman could send
a missile as deadly as the leaden bullet of either rifle or roer.

Looking at the light reed, with its little barbed head and feathered
shaft, you would scarcely believe it possible that such a weapon could
bring down the big strong ostrich; and yet with a similar shaft had
Swartboy often levelled the great camelopard in the dust.  A deadly and
dangerous weapon was the Bushman's arrow.

But what rendered it so?  Not its size, and surely not the force with
which it could be projected from that tiny bow?  Neither.  There was
something besides the strength of the bow and the weight of the arrow to
make it a "deadly and dangerous weapon."  There was _poison_.

Swartboy's arrows were true Bushman weapons,--they were poisoned.  No
wonder they were deadly.

The use of the bow among savage nations all over the earth, and the
great similarity of its form and construction everywhere, may be
regarded as one of the most curious facts in the history of our race.
Tribes and nations that appear to have been isolated beyond all possible
communication with the rest of the world, are found in possession of
this universal weapon, constructed on the same principle, and only
differing slightly in details--these details usually having reference to
surrounding circumstances.  When all else between two tribes or nations
of savages may differ, both will be found carrying a common instrument
of destruction,--the bow and arrows.

Can it be mere coincidence, like necessities in different parts of the
world producing like results, or is this possession of a similar weapon
among distant and remote peoples a proof of unity or communication
between them in early times?

These inquiries would lead to a long train of reflections, which,
however interesting, would here be out of place.

But an equally or still more curious fact is that of _poisoned_ arrows.
We find here and there, in almost every quarter of the globe, tribes of
savages who poison their arrows; and the mode of preparing and using
this poison is almost exactly the same among all of them.  Where there
is a difference, it arises from the different circumstances by which the
tribe may be surrounded.

Now the knowledge of arrow-poison, as well as the mode of preparing it
and the habit of using it, belong to tribes of savages so completely
isolated, that it is not probable--hardly possible, in fact--that either
they or their ancestors could ever have communicated it to one another.
We cannot believe that there ever existed intercourse between the
Bushman of Africa and the Chuncho of the Amazon, much less between the
former and the forest tribes of North America; yet all these use the
arrow-poison and prepare it in a similar manner!  All make it by a
mixture of vegetable poison with the subtle fluid extracted from the
fang-glands of venomous serpents.  In North America, the rattlesnake and
moccason, with several species of roots, furnish the material; in South
America, the "wourali," or "curare," as it is indifferently called, is a
mixture of a vegetable juice with the poison extracted from the glands
of the coral-snake, (_Echidna ocellata_), the "boiquira" or "diamond
rattlesnake," (_Crotalus horridus_), the lance-headed "viper,"
(_Trigonocephalus lanceolate_) the formidable "bushmaster," (_Lachesis
rhombeata_), and several other species.  In South Africa, a similar
result is obtained by mixing the fluid from the poison-glands of the
puff-adder, or that of various species of _naja_, the "cobras" of that
country, with the juice from the root of an Amaryllis, called _gift-bol_
(poison-bulb) in the phraseology of the colonial Dutch.  It is out of
such elements that the Bushman mixes his dangerous compound.

Now our Bushman, Swartboy, understood the process as well as any of his
race; and it was in watching him mixing the ingredients and poisoning
his arrows that Klaas and Jan spent the early portion of that day.

All the ingredients he carried with him; for whenever a "geel coppel,"
(_Naja haje_), or a "spuugh-slang," (_Naja nigra_), or the "puff-adder,"
(_Vipera arretans_), or the horned viper, (_Cerastes caudalis_,)--
whenever any of these was killed on the route--and many were--Swartboy
took care to open the poison-gland, situated behind their fangs, and
take therefrom the drop of venom, which he carefully preserved in a
small phial.  He also carried another ingredient, a species of bitumen
obtained from certain caverns, where it exudes from the rocks.  The
object of this is not, as supposed by some travellers, to render the
charm "more potent," but simply to make it glutinous, so that it would
stick securely to the barb of the arrow, and not brush off too easily.
A similar result is obtained by the South American Indians from a
vegetable gum.

The gift-bol, or poison-bulb, was easily obtained, as the species of
Amaryllis that yields it grew plentifully near.  But Swartboy had not
trusted to this chance, as during past days he had plucked several of
the roots, and put them away in one of the side-chests of the wagon,
where many other little knick-knacks of his lay snugly stowed.

Klaas and Jan, therefore, had the rare chance of witnessing the
manufacture of the celebrated arrow-poison.

They saw Swartboy bruise the gift-bol, and simmer it over the fire in a
small tin pan which he had; they saw him drop in the precious
snake-venom; they saw him stir it round, until it became of a very dark
colour, and then, to their great astonishment, they saw him try its
strength _by tasting_!

This seemed odd to both, and so may it to you, boy reader,--that a drop
of poison, the smallest portion of which would have killed Swartboy as
dead as a herring, could be thus swallowed by him with impunity!  But
you are to remember that poisons, both vegetable and mineral, are very
different in their nature.  A small quantity of arsenic taken into the
stomach will produce death, and yet you might swallow the head of a
rattlesnake, fangs, poison-gland, and all, without the slightest danger.

On the contrary, if a single grain of the latter were to enter your
blood, even if it were only scratched in with a pin, its effects would
be fatal, while other poisons may be introduced into the blood without
any fatal result.

Swartboy knew there was no arsenic or any species of "stomach-poison,"
if I am allowed to use such a phrase, in his mixture.  It was only
"blood-poison," which he might _taste_ with impunity.

The bitumen was the last thing put into the pan; and when Swartboy had
stirred it a while longer, and sufficiently thickened it, so that it
would adhere to the barbs, he took down a quiver of arrows already made,
and dipped each of them into the poison.  As soon as the barbs had
cooled, and the poison became well dried, the arrows were ready for use,
and Swartboy intended that some of them should be used on that very day.
Before the sun should set, he designed sending one or more of them
through the skin of an ostrich.



CHAPTER NINETEEN.

DECOYING THE OLD COCK.

It was not the process of mixing the arrow-poison, so much as the use to
be made of it, that interested Klaas and Jan.  They knew that the
Bushman intended to try its effect on an ostrich that afternoon.  More
than that, Swartboy had promised they should actually see how he managed
matters, and witness the death of the ostrich.  With such a prospect
before them, the boys were in high spirits all the fore-part of the day.

It was to be late in the afternoon, near sunset, in fact, before the
sport should come off.  Of course not till the return of the ostriches
to their nest--for it was there the drama was to be enacted.  The nest
and its environs were to be the scene of the tragedy--the time a little
before sunset.  Such was Swartboy's "programme."

Of course Swartboy had leave from the older boys to go upon almost
whatever expedition he pleased, but certainly upon this one, since Klaas
and Jan were so interested about it.  Indeed, some of the others would
have liked to take part in the affair, but for certain reasons that
could not be.

Some of the hunters had doubts as to the result.  They knew the poisoned
arrow would kill any ostrich.  They did not doubt that.  But how was
Swartboy to get near enough to discharge one of his tiny shafts into the
bird's body?  That was the question that puzzled them.  He proposed
doing so in broad daylight.  Indeed there was no other time for him.
All knew that before night the ostriches would return to their nest--as
soon as the sun was low, and it became cooler,--but they knew also that
the birds having found out what had happened in their absence would
start off in alarm, and abandon the nest altogether.

Swartboy, therefore, would have no darkness to shelter him from their
gaze.  How was he to approach them within the range required for his
small bow--that is, within less than fifty yards?

Did he intend to place himself in ambush and wait for their return?  If
he did, it must be near the nest, else he would have but a poor chance.
There was no knowing in what direction the birds might come back, or
which way they would scamper off again.

Now for Swartboy to conceal himself near the nest, all believed to be an
impossibility.  There was not a bit of cover within five hundred yards
of the spot--neither bush nor stone big enough to conceal the body of a
man from creatures less wary than ostriches, but from these a cat could
not have hidden her carcass within a circle of a thousand yards
diameter.  As to Swartboy's sinking a "shooting-hole" and lying await in
that, the boys never thought of such a thing.  A shooting-hole
surrounded by bushes might do for a lion, or a rhinoceros, or an
elephant, but no ostrich could be bamboozled by any such _ruse_; for
these birds--that on account of their appearance have been called stupid
by some superficial observers--are in reality the very reverse.  The
slightest alteration in the form of the ground, either around their
nests or near it, would be noted by them, and would prevent them from
approaching it, except after such a reconnoissance as would defeat all
Swartboy's plans.  But he had no thought of a shooting-hole--nothing of
the sort.

What plan, then, had he in his mind?  The boys could not guess; and
Swartboy, like all cunning hunters, did not care to tell his plans to
everybody.  He preferred letting them discover them by his acts; and as
all of them were hunters themselves and boys of good breeding, they did
not persecute him with idle questions, but watched his preparations in
silence.

Now one of his preparations, made before starting, was to take the
little fennec that had been killed in the morning, and "truss" it with a
number of skewers, in such a way that it stood upright upon its legs,
and at a short distance looked as if it was "alive and well!"

This was Swartboy's last act, before setting out for the ostriches'
nest.

When it was finished, Swartboy observed that the sun was low enough, and
taking the fennec under his army and his bow in his hand, he struck off
over the plain.

The boys were to be spectators of the affair, but that was rather in a
figurative sense.  There were two pocket telescopes, and when Swartboy
promised that Klaas and Jan should be witnesses of the thing, he had
these telescopes in his mind.  For certain reasons he could not take any
of the boys along with him, and from the wary character of the game they
could not go near enough to observe it with the naked eye.  To have done
so would have driven the ostriches out of Swartboy's reach, for it has
been already stated that these far-seeing birds can sight an enemy
farther off than they can themselves be seen.

The telescopes, therefore, must be brought into play, and as Klaas and
Jan begged to have the use of them, it was arranged that the two boys
should climb into a tree, and describe what they saw to the rest, who
stood below.  That would be witnessing a spectacle by a sort of _second
sight_, as Arend jocosely remarked.

Klaas and Jan were therefore hoisted up into a camel-thorn acacia; and,
seating themselves on its branches, prepared their telescopes for use.

The elevation enabled them not only to see the nest, for that was
visible from the ground, but the surface of the plain to a considerable
distance beyond.  They would thus be enabled to note every movement
either Swartboy or the ostriches should make.

Now it has been stated that within a circle of five hundred yards radius
from the nest, there was no cover that would have concealed a cat.  With
the exception of a stone here and there--none of them larger than a
quartern loaf--the sandy surface was perfectly smooth and level as a
table.

The boys had noticed this in the morning.  Hendrik and Groot Willem had
taken good notice of it, for they, as well as Swartboy, had thought of
"waylaying" the ostriches on their return, but had given up the idea,
from the fact of there being no cover to conceal them from the eyes of
the wary birds.

But just outside the circumference mentioned, there was a chance of
cover--a bush that by tight squeezing might have sheltered the body of a
man.  Both Hendrik and Groot Willem had seen this bush, but on account
of its great distance from the nest they had never thought of its being
used as a cover.  Five hundred yards off,--it might as well have been
five miles.  Even had it been on the side by which the ostriches had
gone off, and by which they, the hunters, conjectured they would return,
the bush might have served.  A shot might have been obtained as the
birds came back to the nest.  But it was not on that side,--on the very
opposite--and in the direction of the camp.  Neither Hendrik nor Groot
Willem had entertained the idea of lying behind it.

Swartboy had; and to this bush now repaired Swartboy as straight as he
could go.  For what purpose?  To conceal himself behind it, and wait for
the ostriches.  That was his design.

But what would his arrows avail--poisoned as they were--at the distance
of five hundred yards?  Ah!  Swartboy knew what he was about.  Let us
record his movements in the words of Klaas and Jan, who watched them
narrowly.

"Swartboy has reached the bush," reported Jan; "he lays down his bow and
arrows beside it.  Now he has gone away from it.  He is proceeding in a
straight line towards the nest.  He has the fox with him.  See! he stops
again,--a little beyond the bush he has halted--between it and the nest,
but nearer the bush."

"Very near the bush," said Klaas; "not twenty yards from it, I'm sure."

"Well, what does he do there?" demanded Hendrik.  "He appears to be
stooping?"

"He is stooping," replied Jan.  "Let me see!  He's got the fox in his
hands, he is placing it on the ground!  He has left it!  I declare, it
is standing by itself, as if it were alive!"

"It's very clear what he intends by that," said Hans; "I can understand
now how he means to get the birds within range."

"And I!" rejoined Hendrik.

"And I!" echoed Groot Willem.

"Now," continued Jan, "he's going on to the nest--he has reached it, and
is walking round and round, and stooping and kicking with his feet.  I
can't tell what he's about--can you, Klaas?"

"I think," replied Klaas, "he's trying to cover up the broken shells we
left there."

"Oh! that's exactly it!" said Jan.  "See! he's stooping over the nest,
he has lifted an egg in his hand!"

It is to be remembered that only the fresh eggs were brought away in the
morning.  Those in the nest that had undergone hatching were of course
let alone--all except one or two, that had been broken to "try" them.

"He's coming back this way," said Jan.  "He has the egg in his hand!
Now he has put it down right under the snout of the fox!"

"Ha!" ejaculated Hans, Groot Willem, and Hendrik, "how cunning of old
Swart!"

"Now," continued Jan, "he's back to the bush: and now he's squatted down
behind it."

After a little while both Klaas and Jan announced that Swartboy was
making no further movements, but continued to lie quietly.

Now the secret of Swartboy's strategy lay in his knowledge of a fact in
natural history,--a knowledge of the antipathy that exists between the
ostrich and the egg-eating fox.  Swartboy's experience had taught him
the habits of the fennec, and also the hostile feeling of the ostrich
towards this enemy.  So strong is this feeling on the part of the bird,
that whenever it sets its eye upon one of these creatures it will run
directly towards it, for the purpose of destroying it.  On such
occasions the speed of the quadruped will not save it.  Unless its
burrow be nigh, or some thick bush or cleft among the rocks offer it a
shelter, a single kick from the legs of the mighty bird at once puts an
end to its prowling existence.

Swartboy knew all this, and for that reason had he set his decoy.
Conspicuously placed, the birds would be sure to see it; and with their
nest half plundered, and one of the eggs still under its very nose, they
would not be slow in coming up to take revenge upon the poor fennec, the
supposed robber, and to them well-known burglar.

"The ostriches are coming!" cried the sharp-sighted Jan, after a long
pause.

"Where?" asked Klaas.  "I don't see them yet;--where, Jan?"

"Yonder," replied Jan.  "Beyond the nest,--far off."

"Oh, now I see!" said Klaas; "just the way they went off in the morning;
three of them,--a cock and two hens,--they are the same, I suppose."

"Now they are getting up near the nest," reported Jan; "now they are up
to it.  See them!  What are they doing? they are running about in a
terrible way.  See! their heads move up and down,--they are striking
with their legs.  What are they about?"

"I think," rejoined Klaas,--"I declare I think they are _breaking the
eggs_."

"Not a doubt of it," remarked Hans.  "That is always their way when they
return and find the nest disturbed either by a human being or an animal.
No doubt that is what they are at."

Hendrik and Groot Willem confirmed this statement by their assent.

"Oh!" exclaimed Jan, "they have left the nest,--they are coming this
way,--they are coming towards Swartboy,--how fast they run!  Hey--they
are upon the fennec!  Ho! they have kicked it over!  See, they are
pecking it with their bills and knocking it about like a foot-ball.
Hurrah! such a jolly game as is going on yonder!"

"What is old Swart doing, anyhow?  They're near enough for a shot."

"He's doing something," answered Klaas.  "I'm sure I saw him move.  Did
he not draw his bow yonder?"

"He did," replied Jan; "he has let off an arrow.  I saw his arms move
suddenly.  See, the ostriches are off again.  Ho! they are quite gone!"

It was not so, however; for, although the three ran off on hearing the
twang of the Bushman's bow, they did not run far.  After going some
quarter of a mile or so, the cock began to droop his wings and run round
in circles, the hens all the while following.  His movements now became
of a very eccentric kind, and it was plain that Swartboy's arrow had
pierced him, and the poison was doing its work.  The bird reeled like a
drunken man, once or twice fell to its knees, rose again, ran on a piece
farther, flapping its wings, and vibrating its long neck from side to
side; and then, staggering forward, fell upon the plain!

For several minutes it continued to flutter, kicking out with its strong
limbs, and raising the dust as if it had been a buffalo.  At length its
struggles ceased, and it lay motionless upon the sand.

The two hens still continued near, and from their actions were evidently
both surprised and alarmed.  They did not, however, attempt to run off,
until Swartboy, knowing they were far beyond the reach of his bow, rose
up from his ambush, and walked towards them.  Then both took to their
heels, and scouring off over the plain, were soon out of sight.  Klaas
and Jan now reported that Swartboy was stooping over the dead cock, and,
as they believed, skinning him.

That was exactly what Swartboy was doing, for, about an hour after, he
came into camp carrying the skin upon his shoulders, and with an air of
triumph, that plainly said--

"Congo, could you do that?"



CHAPTER TWENTY.

A BRUSH WITH THE BRINDLED GNOO.

The young yagers resolved to stay a couple of days longer by the
fountain in the mokhala grove.  Their object was to wait until the flesh
of the blue-buck--which is excellent eating--should be reduced to
biltong.  They did not know what chance of game there might be upon
their route for the next five or six days.  The way was new to all of
them--even to the guide Congo, who had only a general knowledge of that
part of the country.  They were heading for the Molopo River, and Congo
knew how to find that well enough; but their route through the
interlying country he knew nothing about.  There might be plenty of
game--there might be a great scarcity of it--he could not tell.

Of course neither could Swartboy.  The hunters were now out of the
Bushman country and into a territory inhabited by poor tribes of the
great Bechuana family.  Swartboy's native district lay to the southwest,
in the direction of Namaqualand.  He had never been so far east in his
life, and of course was quite a stranger to the route they were
pursuing.

Under these circumstances Hans, who from his age and superior wisdom was
looked upon as a sort of leader, recommended that they should not go
forward until they had properly jerked the flesh of the blue-buck.

That, with what remained of the gemsbok, would secure them against
falling short of provision, should game prove scarce.  They would only
have to tarry a couple of days longer.  That would be sufficient under
such a strong sun to dry the biltong properly, whereas if packed without
being well cured, the hot weather would spoil it directly, and they
might be left in the lurch without a morsel of meat.

Their stay at their present camp was, therefore, prolonged for two days,
during which time the flesh of the blue-buck, with the remaining parts
of that of the oryx, hanging in red festoons from the branches of the
acacias, became dark, stiff, and hard to the touch, and was then in a
condition to keep for several weeks if required.

But the young yagers did not remain constantly by the camp during all
the intervening time.  The biltong required no watching.  It had been
hung upon branches, sufficiently high to place it beyond the reach of
prowling jackals and hyenas at night, and during the day there was
always some one by the camp to keep off the vultures.

On the first of these two days the young yagers mounted, all six, and
rode off to the grassy plains, where they had hunted the blue-buck, in
hopes of falling in either with this or some other species of antelope.

They were not disappointed.  On arriving at the plain, they perceived
that it was occupied--not by one, but by several kinds of creatures.
Three species of animals were seen upon it.  Far out was a herd of small
creatures, whose lyre-shaped horns, and yellow dun bodies, told that
they were springboks,--a fact made plain by their strange behaviour,--by
individuals of the herd now and then bounding up into the air, and
throwing open the marsupial folding of skin over their croups, and
displaying the long snow-white hair that lines that singular pouch.

Not far from these, and occasionally mixing among them, was a drove of
larger animals, whose singular colour and markings could not be
mistaken.  They were _dauws_, or, in the clumsy language of the closet
naturalists, "Burchell's zebras," (_Equus Burchellii_).  It has been
already stated that this species differs from the true zebra in several
respects.  Its ground colour is light sienna, while that of the zebra is
nearly white.  The stripes upon the former are dark brown, while those
of the latter are pure black; but the most characteristic difference in
the markings is, that in the true zebra the stripes continue in rings
down the legs to the very hoofs, while in the dauw the legs are white.
The ears and tail of the zebra are more asinine than those of the dauw,
while the tail of the latter is much the longer, as indeed is the body
of the animal.

Both are beautiful creatures--perhaps the most beautiful quadrupeds in
the world--a fine horse always excepted.  But in point of beauty the
true zebra certainly excels the "Burchell."  They are very different in
their habits--the zebra being a mountain-dwelling animal, while the dauw
is strictly a denizen of the open plains, in places similar to those
frequented by the quagga.  Although it never herds with the latter, in
habits it resembles their species more than it does the zebra.
Observation of this fact by the boor hunters has led to the name among
these people of "bonte quagga," (painted quagga.)

The third kind of animals upon the plain was a very remarkable species;
so odd in form and movements were they, that no one who had once seen
either them, or a picture of them, could afterwards fail to recognise
them.  The young yagers had never set eyes upon them before, but they
had all seen a kindred species, which, except in colour and a few minor
details, is very like them.  They had all seen the "wildebeest"
or "gnoo," and this enabled them at once to recognise the
"blauw-wildebeest," or "brindled gnoo," for such they were.

They differ from the common wildebeest in being larger, somewhat heavier
in form, scarcely so well shaped about the head and neck--the latter not
curving as in the common species--more shaggy in the mane, the
nose-tuft, and the long hair on the throat and breast.  In colour they
are quite different, being of a dirty bluish tint, variegated with
irregular stripes, or "brindles."  Hence their trivial names of "blauw"
wildebeest and "brindled" gnoo.

The two kinds, "gnoo" and "brindled gnoo," are never found on the same
plains; but give place to each other.  The range of the latter species
extends farthest to the north.  They are scarcely ever found alone, but
generally accompanied by droves of the dauw; (Burchell's zebra or bonte
quagga); and, what is a singular fact, the common species is rarely
seen, except in company with the common quagga.  Although neither of
these keep company with their own congeners they yet live socially with
one another, both also herding at times with springboks, hartebeests,
and ostriches.  A singular and interesting sight it is to see the gnoos,
antelopes, and wild asses, curveting and galloping over the plain, now
wheeling in circles, now halting in line, anon charging from point to
point, like troops of cavalry in a review, while the ostriches stalk
about or stand motionless, their tall forms rising high above the rest,
as if they were the officers and generals-in-chief of the spectacle!
Such a picture is often presented upon the karoo plains of Southern
Africa.

As soon as the young yagers came in sight of the plain, they pulled up
their horses, and sat for some moments regarding the lively scene that
was exhibited upon its surface.  The springboks were browsing, though
some individuals were constantly in the air bounding up as if for their
own amusement.  The dauws were trooping about, sometimes halting, and
sometimes galloping from point to point, as if in play or alarmed by
some intruder.  The brindled gnoos, that is the cows, were browsing in a
herd of thirty or forty in number, while the bulls stood around in small
groups of three or four individuals, not moving, but apparently keeping
a solemn watch over the others, every now and then snorting loudly, and
uttering a sharp and peculiar cry, as if intended for some voice of
warning or instruction.  For hours the old bulls will hold this
position, keeping apart from the rest, each little knot of them
apparently conversing among themselves, while acting as sentries to the
general herd of dauws, antelopes, and their own wives.

After a few minutes' deliberation, the hunters agreed to make their
attack upon the herd of gnoos.  They formed no plan.  Stalking would be
of little use, as they believed they would be able to ride down the
wildebeest, and get a running shot; and it was to these they designed to
give all their attention.  The dauws--beautiful creatures as they were--
were of no use as _game_, and it was game the party wanted.  The
springboks did not interest them; but the flesh of the wildebeest would
have been a treat to all.  It is excellent eating, resembling beef
rather than venison--for the gnoo is in reality more of an ox than an
antelope.

"Roast beef for dinner!" was the word given by Hendrik, and all the rest
echoing this, they charged down upon the wildebeest herd.

They made no attempt at concealing their approach, but dashed directly
forward upon the game, the buck-dogs--now only five in number--in the
advance, with Hendrik's favourite heading.

In an instant the herds upon the plain were in motion--each species
going its own way.  The dauws galloped off in a clump, holding a
straight course over the plain; the springboks scattering in every
direction, as is their wont; while the gnoos, first uniting into an
irregular drove, ran forward some distance in a straight line, and then
some broke to right and left, wheeled round, and came scouring back to
the rear of the hunters!

In a few minutes the whole appearance of the plain was changed.  The
zebras had gone out of sight, so, too, the springboks.  The gnoos alone
remained under the view of the hunters.  These were not to be seen in
any particular direction.  They were everywhere around--some running off
before the dogs--some wheeling around to the rear--some galloping past
within two or three hundred yards, and then charging forward so near to
the horses, that some of the riders thought they meant to attack them.
With their fierce little eyes, their sharp curving horns, and black
shaggy frontlets, they appeared most formidable enemies, and indeed they
_are_ so when disposed to make an attack.

When wounded they are dangerous even to a mounted hunter, but one afoot
would stand little chance of escape from their frenzied and impetuous
charge.  One of the oddest circumstances observed by the young yagers
was, that the bulls, instead of galloping right away, lingered in the
rear of the retreating herd,--now wheeling round to gaze upon the
hunters, snorting as they stood--now making a dash forward out of their
way, and sometimes two of them facing each other, and engaging in
combat!  And these combats did not appear to be "shams."  On the
contrary, the old bulls seemed to butt each other in good earnest,
rushing at one another from a distance, dropping upon their knees, and
bringing their heads together, till their horns, and the thick bony
helmet-like plates that covered their fronts, cracked loudly against
each other.

These battles appeared to be real; but, notwithstanding the earnestness
of the combatants, they always gave up, and parted from the ground
before the hunters could get within range.

Notwithstanding their carelessness about running away altogether, it was
not so easy a matter to get a fair shot at one; and our yagers might
have returned to camp empty-handed had it not been for their buck-dogs.
These, however, chanced to stick together, and having selected an old
bull, soon separated him from the rest, and drove him at full speed
across the plain.  Hendrik and Groot Willem spurred after, and all the
others followed, though falling to the rear as the chase continued.

Before the bull had gone two miles, the dogs began to pester him, and
finding his heels failing he turned suddenly upon his canine pursuers,
rushing at one and then another, as they came up, and knocking them over
with his horns.

It is possible he would have bayed all _five_ successfully; but the
approach of the hunters caused him fresh alarm, and he broke bay, and
once more stretched himself at full speed across the plain.  Another
mile would have brought him into some low timber, and he appeared to
make for that.  He kept ahead of the dogs for awhile longer, but when
within about a hundred yards of the thicket, his wind again failed him;
and as the buck-dogs were taking an occasional pull at his flanks, he
became desperate and once more stood to bay.

The dogs soon ran in, but for awhile he was able to beat off all five,
striking then right and left.  At length some of them seized him by the
throat, while the others clung to his tail and hind-quarters, and the
struggle would no doubt have ended soon by their dragging the bull to
the earth; but Hendrik and Groot Willem rode up and ended it sooner by
sending a pair of bullets through his ribs.



CHAPTER TWENTY ONE.

A BATTLE WITH A BORELe.

Hans and Arend on this occasion had followed the chase, and were almost
"in at the death;" and Klaas and Jan, who from the openness of the
ground had had a view of the whole run, shortly after came up, spurring
their panting ponies to the very top of their speed.

All six now dismounted to rest both themselves and horses after their
sharp gallop, and also to skin the bull.  Though Arend was habitually
_chef-de-cuisine_, Hendrik and Groot Willem were the butchers; Hans,
"the botanist of the expedition," might also be termed its
"green-grocer," as his knowledge of botany enabled him to keep the
camp-table supplied with many species of esculent roots and vegetables
to be found growing wild upon the plains of Southern Africa.

While Hendrik and Groot Willem were flaying off the skin, Hans and Arend
were busy with the head and horns, preparing them for preservation.  It
was nearly as much on account of these as for his meat that they had
hunted the gnoo.  They would also be trophies in the halls of the Graaf
Reinet; for although the horns of the common gnoo are easily had, those
of the brindled species are more precious, for the reason that the
latter animal inhabits a more remote part of the country.

Klaas and Jan acted as assistants to the other four--now handing a
knife, now holding a limb or flap of skin, and making themselves
"generally useful."  All six, therefore, were engaged.

While thus employed, all of them bending and stooping one way or
another, over the dead bull, and none of them keeping a look-out, a
queer sound fell upon their ears that caused them to start all together
into an erect attitude.  The sound they had heard was a loud snort,
followed by a blowing noise, somewhat similar to that made by terrified
swine, but much fuller and louder.  There was, also, the noise of
snapping twigs and breaking branches.

These sounds caused all six to start, and some of them to tremble with
fear; and the sight that came under their eyes as they looked up
confirmed them in that emotion.  In truth, it was a sight that would
have inspired with alarm older hearts than theirs.

Breaking through the bushes, and causing the branches to bend and
crackle, came a large animal.  The tall upright horn upon its snout, its
huge heavy body, and strong massive limbs, left them no room to doubt
what sort of animal it was.  It was a rhinoceros!

There are four species of these in South Africa; but the dark colour of
its skin and the double horn proclaimed the one now seen to be the black
rhinoceros, or "borele"--the fiercest and most dangerous of the four.

When the boys first heard it, it was crashing through the bushes close
to the edge of the thicket, but they had scarce turned their eyes in
that direction before it shot out of the timber, head towards them, and
came on at full gallop.  Its head was raised high in air, its ears were
in motion, and its small but saucy-looking tail was flirted about in a
confident manner.  Its black eyes gleamed with a malicious expression,
and its air was one of anger and menace.  The terror inspired by its
look was not lessened by the loud snorting and blowing that issued from
its fiery nostrils.

The boys saw at once, and to their alarm, that it was charging upon
_them_!  There could be no doubt about the matter.  Its whole appearance
denoted that it was bent upon attacking them, for it was heading
directly for the spot where they stood.  They knew, moreover, that there
was nothing odd in that,--they knew that the black rhinoceros will
charge upon any creature, whether man, quadruped, bird, or _bush_,
without the slightest provocation!

It is needless to say that the boys were in a dilemma, and were aware of
it as well.  There were they, all six afoot upon the plain, with a
fierce borele rushing up to them, and at less than a hundred yards
distance!

Fortunately for them the steeds were all well-trained, and fortunately
the riders had had the precaution to fasten them in such a manner that
it required but little time to get them free.  But for these two
circumstances some one of the six must certainly have been lifted upon
the death-dealing horn of the borele.

As it was the horses had been tied all around a tree that stood near.
Each had his bridle looped to a small branch, so small that it could be
wrenched off in a second of time, but large enough to keep a horse
steady for awhile, unless something should alarm and startle him.  This
was a precaution the hunters had been taught by their fathers, and the
knowledge now stood them in stead.

Of course the moment the borele "hove" in sight, there was an end to the
skinning of the gnoo.  There was a chorus of cries expressing terror, a
flinging away of knives, a sudden rush to the horses, a seizing of
bridles, a snapping off of branches, and a simultaneous leaping into six
saddles.  All these acts did not take ten seconds of time to accomplish,
and the last of them was not accomplished one second too soon; for the
riders had just time to turn the heads of their horses to the plain as
the borele came up.  In fact, so close to them had he got his hideous
snout that several of the horses shied and plunged as they took to
flight, nearly dismounting one or two of the riders.  To have been
unhorsed at that moment would have been a perilous business.

All kept their seats, however, and in a moment more were flying over the
plain in a close clump, the borele snorting at their heels.

Now that they were in their saddles, and galloped freely off, some of
the yagers were disposed to laugh.  Hendrik and Groot Willem were among
the number.  They knew that the speed of a rhinoceros is no match for
that of a horse, and they would soon get out of his way.  They were
disposed to regard the chase as a bit of fun rather than otherwise.  All
at once, however, a thought came into their minds that turned their
merry mood into a feeling of new and painful apprehension.

The young yagers were riding in pairs.  Hendrik and Groot Willem,
mounted on their swift horses, had forged some distance ahead of the
others.  On turning their faces backward they perceived that the two
boys, Klaas and Jan, had fallen considerably to the rear, and that the
borele was pushing them closely.  He was not twenty yards behind either,
for they rode side by side, as if in a racing gallop.  Hans and Arend
were further in advance, and these also looking back at the same instant
perceived the perilous situation of their younger brothers.

To all four the idea seemed to occur at the same moment, that though a
horse can outrun the rhinoceros, a pony _cannot_, and the thought drew
from them a simultaneous expression of alarm.  Beyond a doubt Klaas and
Jan were in danger.  Should the borele overtake them, their ponies would
not save them.  The huge brute would gore these animals to death, or
impale them at the first stroke of his stout sharp horn.  Beyond a doubt
the boys were in danger!

So thought their four brothers as they glanced back; and, as they
continued to gaze, they became the more convinced of this fearful truth.
They saw that the distance between them and the rhinoceros, instead of
widening, was gradually growing less--the borele was gaining upon them!

It was a moment of painful apprehension with all four; but at this
moment Hendrik performed one of the neatest manoeuvres that had occurred
during the whole expedition.  With a wrench upon his bridle he turned
suddenly out of his course, and then wheeling round rode backward,
calling on Groot Willem to act similarly, but with his head turned to
the opposite side.

Groot Willem, as if by instinct, obeyed, and, diverging suddenly from
each other, the two wheeled right and left at the same instant.  Their
horses' heads were now turned to the rear, and after going a pace or two
they halted, and got their guns in readiness.

First Hans and Arend swept past between the two halted hunters,--then
passed Klaas and Jan upon the frightened ponies, and then came "borele."

Before the last had got fairly on a line, Hendrik and Groot Willem
covered his huge body, fired, and then, galloping round to his rear,
commenced reloading.

Both balls took effect, and, though neither brought the brute to the
ground, they made a decided alteration in his pace, and in a moment it
was perceived that he was running slower, while the blood flowed freely
from his wounds.  He still, however, kept on after the ponies; and it is
hard to say how far he might have followed them, had it not been that
Hans and Arend, exactly imitating the manoeuvre of Hendrik and Groot
Willem, now also wheeled right and left, came back a pace or two,
halted, and delivered their pieces in the face of the rhinoceros.

Again the bullets took effect, and again did not prove fatal.  But the
danger, as far as Klaas and Jan were concerned, was over; for the
borele, instead of pursuing the ponies further, turned short on his
nearer antagonists, and rushed first upon one, then the other, with all
the strength and fury that was left in his body.

Several charges were made by him without effect, as the riders, now
faced towards him, were able to spring to one side and gallop out of his
way.

For nearly a quarter of an hour the battle was kept up, the four loading
and firing as fast as they could under the circumstances.

At length the day was decided by a bullet from the big elephant-gun of
Groot Willem, which, penetrating the skull of the huge borele, sent him
rolling over in the dust.

A loud "hurrah!" proclaimed the victory, and the six yagers now rode up
and alighted by the huge body of the borele, that, prostrate and
lifeless, no longer caused them alarm.

An axe was obtained from the wagon, and his long anterior horn--a
splendid trophy--was hacked off from his snout, and carried away; while
another journey was made for the meat and horns of the blauw-wildebeest,
which were packed behind the hunters upon the croups of their horses,
and brought safely into camp.



CHAPTER TWENTY TWO.

THE INTERRUPTED BREAKFAST.

Next morning the young yagers slept late--because they had nothing
particular to do.  They did not purpose continuing their journey before
the following morning; and on that day they intended to lie up, so that
their horses, might rest and be fresh for the _road_.

They rose, therefore, a little later than usual, and breakfasted on the
tongue of the brindled gnoo, with hot coffee and hard bread; a stock of
which they had brought along in their wagons, and which still held out.
It would not have been as great a deprivation to the young yagers to
have gone without bread, as it would to you, boy reader.  There live
many people in South Africa to whom bread is a luxury almost unknown.
Many tribes of the native people never eat such a thing, and there are
thousands of the frontier Dutch colonists, that do without it
altogether.  The people of South Africa, both native and colonial, are
not an _agricultural_ but a _pastoral people_, and therefore pay but
little attention to the cultivation of the soil.  Their herds of horned
cattle, their horses, their flocks of big-tailed sheep and goats,
engross all their time, and _agricultural_ farming is not to their
taste.  Although the wealthier among the boors plant a few acres of
Kaffir corn--a variety of the "Indian corn," or maize--and sow some
bushels of "buckwheat," yet this is principally for their own use.  This
class also cultivate many kinds of vegetables in their gardens, and have
large orchards containing apples, peaches, pomegranates, pears, and
quinces, with vineyards for the grape, and enclosures for melons,
cucumbers, and pumpkins.  But among the poorer classes, and particularly
on the remote frontier, such things are hardly thought of; and their
cattle _kraals_ are the only enclosures around the dwelling of the
"vee-boor," or stock-farmer.  Among these people, bread is a rarity, and
their staple food is "biltong," and fresh beef or mutton cooked in a
variety of ways, and so as to be quite palatable--for the _cuisine_ of
the boor is by no means to be despised.

In many parts the staple food of the frontier boor is venison--that is,
in districts where the ordinary game has not yet been exterminated.
Within the frontier districts, springboks are plenty, as also the common
wildebeests; and piles of the horns of these may be seen lying around
the kraals of every vee-boor.  The flesh of the wildebeests, as already
stated, is more like beef than venison, and when fat, or cooked in the
delicious fat of the great sheep's tails, is excellent eating.

The quagga, which is also common in these parts, is killed for its
flesh; but this is rank and oily, and only eaten by the Hottentot
servants.

Our young yagers were the children of wealthy parents, and had therefore
learnt to eat bread, though on a pinch they could have got along without
it.  But they had brought several sacks of biscuit with them, and with
these and coffee, and the tongue of the blauw-wildebeest, they were
making a hearty breakfast.

They were all right merry, chatting over their adventure with the
borele, and laughing at the danger now that it was past.

They were taking their time with their breakfast, eating it leisurely
and in no hurry, as they meant to spend the day in a sort of _dolce far
niente_ manner--loitering about the camp, or perhaps putting in a stitch
wherever there should be a weak place in either saddle or bridle, so as
to make themselves thoroughly ready for the route.  Every precaution
would be required to ensure their safety against the wide stretch of
desert they would have to cross.

While in this mood, and about half through with their meal, an
announcement was made that was likely to upset all their plans for the
day.  The announcement came from Congo, who had been loitering out on
the desert side of the mokhala grove, and who came running into camp, in
breathless haste, to report that a large flock of ostriches were out
upon the plain!

The yagers, but particularly Klaas and Jan, bristled up at the news,
uttering various exclamations of joy.  A sudden change took place in
their manner.  Their jaws wagged more rapidly; the gnoo-tongue
disappeared in larger slices; the coffee was quaffed in big hurried
gulps; and the second half of their meal did not occupy the tenth part
of the time that had been taken up with the first.

In less than two minutes from the time Congo made his report the
breakfast was finished; and in five minutes more the horses were all
saddled, bridled, and mounted.  Resting the animals was no longer
thought of.  Everything had gone out of the heads of their riders except
an ostrich "surround."

Where was Swartboy to take part in the affair, and to give his advice?
All acknowledged that the Bushman knew more about hunting the ostrich
than any of them--Congo not excepted.  Indeed, this was true in regard
to most kinds of _desert_ animals, as also of the smaller mammalia and
birds.  Congo had lived all his life among a people who keep cattle--for
the Kaffir nations are not mere hunters, but a pastoral people--and
although he knew how to destroy the lion, the leopard, the hyena, and
other carnivorous creatures, he was less accustomed to the killing or
capturing of game, since the vast herds of cattle bred and reared in his
country render such knowledge but of secondary importance.  Not so with
Swartboy.  The Bushmen have no cattle, except those which at times they
steal from their neighbours, the Griquas, Bastaards, and trek-boors; and
these are never _kept_, but killed and devoured as soon as they are
driven to the Bushmen haunts.  The want of domestic animals, therefore,
with the necessity of having something to eat, compels the Bushman to
use all his ingenuity in the capturing or killing of wild _game_, which
among Bushmen includes every living creature from the locust and lizard
to the camelopard and elephant!

The natural consequence of such a life must be the arriving at a perfect
knowledge of the haunts, habits, and mode of hunting the wild creatures
that people their country; and in this very knowledge Swartboy was
believed to excel even among his countrymen, for it was known that in
his own land he had been considered a "mighty hunter."

Where was Swartboy at that moment?  He had not been seen for an hour or
more.  Congo said that he had driven off the oxen to pasture upon the
grass plain to the rear of the camp, and no doubt he was there herding
them.

It was proposed that some one should go for him, but this was objected
to on account of the loss of time.  Congo said that the oxen were a good
way off.  It would take half-an-hour to bring Swartboy into camp, and
before the end of that period the ostriches might be ten miles off.

No; they could not wait for Swartboy.  They must proceed without him;
and, mounting their horses, the yagers rode off towards the desert
plain.



CHAPTER TWENTY THREE.

THE OSTRICH "SURROUND."

On reaching the edge of the grove they halted to reconnoitre, still
keeping under cover of the timber.  Congo had reported truly.  There
_was_ a flock of ostriches, sure enough.  There were seven of these
great birds in one "clump," and an eighth at no great distance from the
rest.  Of the seven, five appeared to be hens and two of them cocks.
The one apart was also a cock.  I say _appeared_ to be.  You will
imagine there could be no doubt, since the male and female of these
birds are so very unlike in the colour of their plumage.  That is true
when they have attained to a certain age; but the young males, even when
full-grown, do not get the beautiful white feathers all at once, and for
a long time can hardly at a distance be distinguished from the females.

That, however, was not the reason why the young yagers were in doubt
about their sex.  It was because the birds were in a position nearly due
east from the point of observation, and the sun being yet only a few
degrees above the horizon, his rays fell in such a manner as to prevent
them from having a clear view.  To use a common phrase, the sun was "in
their eyes."

For all that, they could count the ostriches, and believed that of the
eight three were cocks and the rest hens.

The seven in the "clump" were stationary; that is, they were not moving
away from the spot.  Some were stalking leisurely about, occasionally
taking a "peck;" and it must have been sand or pebbles they were eating,
as there was not the semblance of vegetation near the spot.  Some sat
squatted upon their "hams," their long legs doubled underneath; and one
or two were lying along the ground, and fluttering in the sand, just as
common hens and turkeys do in warm weather.  The dust raised by these
formed a little cloud that floated around them, and added to the
difficulty of distinguishing either their sex or their movements.  The
seven were at no great distance from the edge of the mokhala grove, and
the one that was separate was still nearer.  He was going towards them,
stooping his head at intervals, and feeding as he went.  From this
circumstance, the boys conjectured that he had been much nearer, which
conjecture was strengthened by Congo, who said, that when he had first
observed them, this old cock was not two hundred yards from the edge of
the timber, and was then going out, just as now.

Perhaps he had been within shot of the cover.  What a pity, thought
Klaas and Jan, they had not been earlier on the look-out!

The hunters did not waste many moments in watching the manoeuvres of the
birds.  Their attention was entirely given to their purpose of
surrounding them, and discussing a plan to effect that object.  Now
these ostriches were not near the nest which had been plundered, and was
now deserted; nor was it likely that the were of the family to whom that
nest belonged--not even relatives in fact--else they would have heard of
the calamity, and would have been comporting themselves in a very
different manner from the easy style in which they were taking it.  None
of the five hens could be they that, but two days before, had witnessed
the fall of their plumed lord by the Bushman's arrow, for it was not
likely that these would return to that part of the country.  The flock
now seen had no connection whatever with the nest.  The place they were
in was at a good distance from the scene of the late tragedy.

The young yagers were glad of this; not that they cared about the matter
of relationship, but because the place where the birds were now seen
offered superior advantages for a "surround."  It was a sort of large
bay, where a spur of the desert plain ran into the timber, and was more
than half encircled by low woods and thickets of acacia.  Only one
side--that toward the wide desert--was open.  On all other sides there
was cover for the hunters.

On this account the latter had very little difficulty in deciding how to
act, and in a few minutes their plan was arranged.

Hendrik and Groot Willem, being the best mounted, were to ride to the
two most distant points, one of them taking the right side of the great
bay, the other the left.  They were to keep under cover of the thicket
all the way round; and when either arrived at the point where the timber
stretched farthest out upon the plain, he was to stop awhile, until the
other showed himself on the opposite side.  Both were then to gallop
towards each other, but not to meet.  They were to halt at such a
distance from one another as would best enable them to cut off the
retreat of the ostriches from the outer plain.

Hans and Arend were respectively to follow in the tracks of Hendrik and
Groot Willem; but they were to halt within the edge of the timber when
half round, and wait until they should see the others out upon the
plain.  Then they were to show themselves, and turn the ostriches,
should they run their way.

Klaas and little Jan were also to separate and ride some distance from
the spot; but the disposal of these boys in their places was taken in
hand by the others; and so the whole party started at the same time,
three filing off to the right, and three to the left.  Congo's
instructions were, not to show himself until he should perceive Hendrik
and Groot Willem galloping towards each other.  He was then to act just
as the others, except that "shanks'-mare" was to be his horse.

Should the ostriches allow time for Hendrik and Groot Willem to get to
their stations, the surround would be complete; and it was highly
probable that they would have good sport, and either capture or kill
some of the giant birds.  When thus assailed upon all sides, the ostrich
gets confused, and acts in the most stupid manner, being easily turned,
and driven about from "post to pillar."

It was a question of time, therefore, and it would take a good while for
the surround to be made, as the plain on which the birds were was full
three miles wide.  Both Hendrik and Groot Willem would have twice that
length to ride; and their path lying through bushes, they would be
unable to move faster than a walk.

For some time the only one that watched the movements of the ostriches
was the Kaffir.  The others were making their way through the thicket,
and only had a peep now and then, as they passed some place where an
opening in the leaves allowed them.  They were too anxious, however, to
get to their different stands to stop at any place between.  All felt
that time was precious; for should the game take alarm, and start off to
the open plain, the trouble they were taking would be all in vain.  None
of them, therefore, thought of looking at the birds--only to satisfy
themselves that they were still there--until they had reached their
respective places.



CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR.

THE ODD COCK.

During all this time Congo watched the movement of the flock as well as
the sun in his eyes would allow him.

He noticed that the cock that had been feeding apart from the rest had
now got close up to them,--within a few yards; but that the others had
arisen at his approach, and, stretching out their long necks, appeared
to regard him as a stranger.  After a moment all seven turned, as if
alarmed at something, and ran away--the odd cock running after, though
falling a little in the rear.

The flock only went for twenty yards or so, and then halted, as if they
had got over their slight alarm.

The old cock again stalked slowly up, now and then dropping his head to
the ground, and pecking up a grain or two of something on his way.

When he got close to the flock a second time, they seemed to take fresh
alarm, ran twenty yards farther, and again stopped.

It appeared as if the old cock was a stranger to the rest, and that they
considered his presence an intrusion!

Again he approached them, and again they made a short run; this time not
in a direct line, but in a circle around him, so that they came back
nearly to their original ground.  This time, however, only the five hens
ran off.  Both the cocks remained near the spot; but the movements of
these now puzzled Congo not a little.

One of them had squatted down, just as they had been first observed,
while the other ran about in very small circles, occasionally fluttering
his white plumes, and acting altogether like a drunken man!

After a few minutes the manoeuvres of all appeared to change.  The one
that had seated himself appeared to _lie_ down and remain quiet, while
he that had the "staggers" squatted down not far off; and presently a
hen came running up and sat down beside him; so that now there remained
upon their feet only one cock and four of the hens.

The whole scene puzzled Congo, who was not from an ostrich country, and
was but indifferently acquainted with the habits of these birds.  No
doubt, thought he, the creatures were about some game of their own, such
as he had often seen with the "kooran" and partridges.

There were others than Congo puzzled at what was passing among the
ostriches.

Klaas and Jan, who had reached their stations sooner than the rest, and
who had been observing the odd actions of the birds, were both puzzled
as to what they were about; and a little later Hans and Arend had a
surprise, and were equally at a loss what to think of the game of "fits
and starts" that was going on upon the plain.

But Hans and Arend had not much time to observe.  They had both gone far
round, and they expected soon to see Hendrik and Groot Willem gallop out
from the timber, so they kept their eyes in that direction.

They were not disappointed.  A few minutes after both were seen to shoot
forth at full speed, and ride in diverging lines, so as to approach each
other, and at the same time get nearer to the ostriches.

As soon as the others saw them, the whole five, Congo included, showed
themselves on the open ground, all making towards a common centre--the
spot where the ostriches were.

The hunters were now more surprised than ever.  As they rode forward,
they perceived that several of the great birds were seated, or lying
upon the ground.  They were basking, no doubt; but, for birds so wary,
why did they not spring up and take to flight?  They must already have
perceived the approach of the horses or heard the sound of their
trampling hoofs?  Only two of the hens appeared at all alarmed; and
these ran in the direction of the outer plain, but turned when they saw
Hendrik and Groot Willem.  Only one other was upon its feet; and that
was the old cock that had kept apart?  He was still standing erect, but
did not attempt to fly!  It was very odd.

This old cock chanced to be nearest to Hendrik and Groot Willem; and
going, as they were, at race-horse speed, they were scarce a minute in
riding down upon him.

They had got within less than five hundred yards; and, with guns ready,
were resolved to give him a tail-on-end chase, and try a flying shot,
when, to their tremendous surprise, a loud and terrified yell came from
the bird, and the next moment his skin flew from his shoulders,
discovering, not a naked ostrich, but a naked Bushman, with his legs
chalked white to the very hips!  _That Bushman was Swartboy_!

It was, indeed, old Swart dressed up in the skin of the old cock he had
lately shot with his poisoned arrow; and it was that same arrow, or
half-a-dozen like it, that had been causing the mysterious movements
among the ostriches.  Five of them already lay around dead or dying;
while the two hens, that had not yet received their billet, during the
surprise consequent on Swartboy revealing himself, had managed to
escape.

Fortunately for Swartboy he "sung out" at the moment he did.  Another
half minute, and he would have fared no better than his own victims the
ostriches.  He acknowledged that he had been badly "scared."  In looking
after the ostriches, he had never thought of looking for any thing else;
and from the manner in which his eyes were placed under the feathers, he
could not see very well around.  His ears, too, "muffled" up as they
were within the skin of the old cock, were of little service to him; so
that it was by mere accident he saw the horsemen galloping down upon
him.  Even then it cost an effort to "cast" his skin, and appear _in
propria persona_!

Now, when the young yagers thought of the curious incident that had just
taken place, and then looked at the naked body of Swartboy, chalked
white from hip to heel, the whole six sat in their saddles and laughed
till their very sides ached.

Swartboy, proud of his achievement, looked round him like a conqueror,
and then fixing his eyes upon his rival, put the simple but equivocal
interrogatory--

"Eh!  Congo! ole Kaffir boy! dat you?"

_The carapace was eclipsed_!



CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE.

BLESBOKS AND BONTEBOKS.

Next morning our party inspanned and treked over the desert plain in a
north-easterly direction.  They were two days in crossing it, and their
oxen suffered much from thirst, as during the two days they did not
taste water.  For themselves they had water enough.  Part of the
contents of each wagon was a good water-cask, that held eighteen
gallons; and these, of course, they had filled before leaving the
spring.  One of these casks they divided among their horses, allowing
them a little over two gallons apiece; but that was nothing for two
days' march over such a country.  Even the yagers themselves required as
much.  This statement would not surprise you, if you had ever travelled
in a tropical clime and over an arid waterless plain under a hot glaring
sun.  There thirst is provoked in a short while, and water will quench
it only for a few minutes at a time.  The appetite constantly returns,
and calls for copious draughts; so that a traveller will often consume
not glasses, but gallons, of water, in a single day!

Having crossed the desert plain, the hunters now entered upon a country
that differed entirely from that they had left behind.

They had arrived in a country of vast extent, upon which stood hills of
strange and varied forms.  Some were of a rounded, hemispherical shape;
others were cones; others had flat-table tops; and still others pierced
the sky with sharp needle-like pinnacles.  These hills were of various
sizes--some approaching the dimension of mountains; but most of them
rose directly from the plains, without any _piedmont_ or "foothills"
intervening between the level surface and their sloping or precipitous
sides.  The country bore a very strong resemblance to the plateaux that
lie among the Cordilleras of the Andes; and the geological formation of
this part of Africa is very similar to the table-lands of Mexico.

Many of the mountains of conical and pyramid form stood isolated upon
the plain, some of them bare of vegetation from base to summit.  Others,
again, carried a dark mantle of forest, that covered only their lower
half, above which rose bare peaks of white quartz that under the sun
glittered like snow.

The plains between were some of them of vast extent--so wide that at
times the mountains that bordered them could be but dimly seen.  But
there were plains of every size and form.  Their surface was covered
with a species of grass quite different from that of the region our
hunters had hitherto been passing over.  It formed a short sward like a
meadow lately mown, or a well-browsed pasture-ground, for such in
reality it was--well-browsed and closely cropped, and trodden to a hard
turf, by the countless herds of wild ruminant animals, of which it was
the favourite range.  Unlike the long flowing sweet grass upon the
plains south of the Orange River, these were covered with a short crisp
curly herbage of saltish taste; and in many spots an effervescence of
that mineral covered the ground, whitening the blades of grass like a
hoar-frost.  Salt deposits, or salt-pans as they are termed, were also
common, some of them extending for miles over the plain.

The yagers had reached a peculiar country, indeed.  They had arrived in
the "zuur-veldt," the country of the sour grass--the favourite home of
the _blesbok_ and _bontebok_.

What are these?

They are two antelopes, whose gracefulness of form, swiftness of foot,
but, above all, the lively and striking colour of their bodies, have
rendered remarkable.

They belong to the genus _Gazella_, but in many of their habits they
differ considerably from the gazelles, though differing so slightly from
each other that by both travellers and naturalists they have been
regarded identical.

This is not so.  They are distinct species, though inhabiting the same
country, and following the same mode of life.  The blesbok (_Gazella
albifrons_) is neither so large nor so brilliantly marked as the
bontebok, (_Gazella pygarga_).  His horns are of a light colour, nearly
white, while those of the bontebok are black.  In the colour of the legs
there is also a marked difference.  The legs of the bontebok are white
from the knee down, while those of his congener are only white on the
insides--the outsides being brown.

The bontebok is not only one of the loveliest antelopes in Africa, but
one of the swiftest.  Indeed, there are those who hold that he is _the
swiftest_.  In size he equals the European stag, and his form is light
and graceful.  His horns are fifteen inches in length, black, robust at
the base, semi-annulated and diverging.  They rise erect from the top of
his head, bending slightly backward, and then forward at the tips.

But it is the beautiful colouring of his skin which is the principal
characteristic of this antelope.  In this respect both he and the
blesbok bear some resemblance to the antelopes of the _acronotine_
group--the hartebeest and sassabye.

The colours of the bontebok are purple violet and brown of every shade--
not mingling together, but marking the body as if laid on by the brush
of a sign-painter.  Hence the name "bontebok," or "painted buck," as
given by the Dutch colonists to this species.  First, the neck and head
are of a deep brown, with a tinge of the colour of arterial blood.
Between the horns a white stripe commences, and after reaching the line
of the eyes widens out so as to cover the face to the very muzzle.  This
mark, or "blaze," is common to both the species, and to one of them has
given the trivial name "blesbok," (blaze-buck.)

The back is of a blue lilac colour, as if glazed; and this extends along
the sides, so as to remind one of a saddle.  Bordering this, and running
along the flanks, is a broad band of deep purple brown.  The belly and
insides of the thighs are of pure white colour; the legs are white from
the knees down, and there is a large white patch on the croup.  The tail
reaches to the hocks, and is tufted with black hair.  Such is the colour
of the bontebok, and that of the blesbok differs from it only in the
points already mentioned, and in its colours being somewhat less marked
and brilliant.  Both are beautiful creatures, and their skins are much
prized by the native savages for making the "kaross,"--a garment that
serves them both as a cloak by day and a bed and blankets at night.

The habits of both species are quite similar.  They dwell upon the
plains of the "zuur-veldt," congregating in vast herds of many thousands
that cover the ground with their purple masses.

In this respect they resemble the springboks and other gazelles; but
they have habits peculiar to themselves.  The springboks, when alarmed,
take to flight and scatter off in any direction, whereas the bonteboks
and blesboks invariably run against the wind, bearing their noses close
along the ground, like hounds upon a trail!

They are fleeter than springboks, and also more shy and wary, as though
they knew that their spoils are more valuable to the hunter, and
therefore required greater skill and speed to preserve them.

Both species were once common in what are now the settled districts of
South Africa, their range extending to the Cape itself.  That is now
restricted to the "zuur-veldt" districts, north of the Great Orange
River.

A few bonteboks are still found within the colonial borders in the
district of Swellendam; but their existence there is accounted for by an
act of the Government, which places a fine of six hundred rix-dollars
upon any one who may destroy them without licence.

Our young yagers had now arrived in the land of the blesbok and
bontebok.



CHAPTER TWENTY SIX.

STALKING THE BLESBOKS.

When they had got fairly within the boundaries of the blesbok country,
the young yagers resolved to make halt for a day or two, and hunt these
beautiful antelopes.  Not that they desired their flesh, but they wished
to strip one or two of them of their bright, parti-coloured robes, to be
hung up along with their horns in the halls of Graaf Reinet.

After treking some miles across the plains, they outspanned by a vley,
and formed their camp.

The following morning they mounted their horses, and proceeded over the
plain in search of the purple antelopes.

They were not long in finding them.  That is by no means a difficult
thing with an animal that herds together in thousands, provided you
chance to be in the district it inhabits; and the yagers were not slow
in coming within view of a herd of blesboks.

But how to hunt them was a knowledge which none of the party possessed--
whether to let slip the buck-dogs and gallop right into the thick of the
herd, or to get within shot by stalking--which of these was the proper
manner neither the young yagers nor their drivers knew.  In Swartboy's
country neither blesboks nor bonteboks are known.  They do not range to
the western half of South Africa, and the young yagers only knew them by
tradition.  Their fathers had hunted them years before; but both species
had been long since exterminated south of the Orange River.

As for Congo, although their range extended into a part of the Kaffir
country, he had never chanced to hunt in that particular district.  Of
course neither Bushman nor Kaffir were on the ground with the hunters.
They had been left in charge of the camp; but the advice of both had
been asked at setting out, and it was ascertained that they had none to
give.

The hunters were at a loss how to proceed, and held a discussion upon
it.  Groot Willem thought they should be hunted like springboks,--that
is, the hunters should take stand and conceal themselves, while one or
two rode round and drove the game upon these--a mode practised with the
fallow-deer in the forests of North America, and there termed "driving."

Hendrik believed that they could be "ridden into," and run down by the
dogs.

Hans recommended "stalking," with which, plan Arend agreed.  Of course
no opinion was either asked from or given by the lads Klaas and Jan.
Had they been birds, they would have insisted upon their "say" as well
as their elder brothers.

But blesboks are not birds, although in less than an hour after they
proved themselves to be almost as swift.

Now, as stalking was the mode least likely to give the herd the alarm
and seed them off, it could be tried first.  Should no one succeed in
getting within shot, then Groot Willem's plan might be adopted; and
should it also fail to be successful, it would still not be too late to
follow Hendrik's advice, and ride right at them.

First, then, for a "stalk."

They were not going to stalk them upon horseback.  That would never do,
though there are some animals that will suffer a mounted man to approach
hearer than one afoot.  But blesboks are not of that kind.

All dismounted, therefore, and proceeded on foot in the direction of the
herd.  Not all, exactly.  Klaas and Jan remained on the spot in charge
of the dogs and horses.  Klaas and Jan were to have no share in the
stalk.

The herd was in the middle of a vast open plain--so wide that the
mountains on its opposite side were scarcely visible.  Upon all that
plain not a bush or rock appeared.  The grass, as already stated, was
short cropped, and smooth as a meadow--not a break in the surface to
offer a chance of concealment to the hunter!  How, then, could they talk
of "stalking" on such ground?  They knew that no wild animal, however
stupid or negligent, would permit them to walk up within point-blank
range and fire at them.  How, then, were they going to approach the
blesboks, that they had heard were any thing but stupid--on the
contrary, were exceedingly shy and watchful of danger?  How?  That is a
peculiar point, and requires explanation.

Although there were neither rocks, nor trees, nor bushes of any kind,
nor long grass, nor inequalities in the ground, there was still a
species of "cover."  Not the best, it is true, but such as would serve a
skilful hunter who knew how to take advantage of it.  Enough to give
hopes to the yagers, else they would not have dreamt of such a thing as
an attempt to stalk the blesboks.

Scattered over the plain, and standing at irregular distances of from
one to three hundred yards of each other, were numerous singular
structures.  They were of the form of obtuse cones, or hemispherical,
and all of a light grey colour--the colour of sun-dried mud.  On the
sides of most of them at their bases could be seen a hole of irregular
outlines, and evidently not made by the neat workmen who had built the
mounds.  Quite the contrary.  These entrances to the hollow domes within
were not for them.  Theirs were underground.  These had been made by
their enemies--the burglars who had plundered their houses.  I am sure I
need hardly tell you that the structures thus described were ant-hills,
and that the big holes in this side were the work of the long-tongued
"aard-vark," or the scaly "pangolin."

The hills in question were dome-shaped, and of moderate size--varying
from one to three feet in height.  This is by no means as large as many
ant-hills found in Southern Africa.  Some are four times that height, or
still higher; but I have told you elsewhere of these high hills, and
that there are different species of ants who construct such curious
nests--each species choosing its own style of architecture,--some the
cone, or pyramidal form,--some a complete cluster of cones,--some build
them of cylindrical shape, and others nearly half-spherical, like
inverted tea-basins.

Of these last were the ant-hills now under the eyes of the young yagers.
They were the nests of the _Termes mordax_--a species that inhabits all
the plains of the "zuur-veldt" country.

The hunters proceeded to stalk forward, their eyes bent upon the
antelopes, and their hopes fixed upon the ant-hills.

Of course they did not commence crouching, until they had tried how near
the blesboks would allow them to come without cover.  This they soon
discovered to be about four hundred yards; and although the animals did
not seem to mind their presence at that distance, but continued
browsing, yet the moment any one of the four endeavoured to get nearer,
the herd, as if mechanically, moved off, and still kept a width of four
hundred yards between themselves and the stalkers.

The hunters now began to stalk in earnest, crouching from hill to hill.
It was to no purpose.  None of the four could get within shot.  They
separated and took different sides.  The same result followed--a
failure.  Although the herd kept on, and always in the same general
direction, they seemed instinctively to avoid whatever ant-heap a hunter
had chosen, giving it a "wide berth" which carried them beyond the reach
even of Groot Willem's roer!  After two hours spent in this fruitless
kind of hunting, the plan was abandoned.

The "stalk" would not do; and Hans and Arend were now sneered and
laughed at by Hendrik and Groot Willem.

"What could _they_ know about hunting?  Ha! ha! ha!"



CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

DRIVING THE BLESBOKS.

All now returned to their horses.  Groot Willem's plan was next to be
tried.

They mounted.  Klaas and Jan were permitted to take part in this affair.
They would do well enough to "drive" the antelopes, while the other
four would take stand, and receive them as they came up.

All six rode off towards the herd, which, during the stalk, had moved
several miles across the plain.

When as near as they might safely go, without causing the animals to
take the alarm, Klaas and Jan were sent to one side, while the stand-men
took the other, going to their places by a wide circuit.  Of course
their horses enabled them to get to their positions in a very little
time.  It was not necessary that these should be near the herd.  As soon
as they should conceal themselves behind the hills, Klaas and Jan were
to drive the game up; and they were instructed to do so gently, and
without causing the bucks to break into flight.  The lads were hunters
enough to manage that point.

The four having got round to that side of the herd opposite to where the
drivers had been sent, tied their bridles together, and, leaving their
horses, walked towards the herd.  They deployed from each other as they
went, so as to cover a good stretch of the plain, and then each choosing
an ant-hill, knelt down behind it.

There could be no mistake now.  The antelopes, driven by Klaas and Jan,
would come their way; springboks certainly would; and then, "crack!
crack!" would go the rifles, and "bang!"  Groot Willem's roer.

This gentleman was in particularly high glee.  He had recommended this
mode in opposition to Hans and Arend; but he did not mind that, for he
had rather a contemptuous opinion of the hunter-craft of these two
"yagers;" but what he thought of was, that Hendrik had opposed it, and
should it prove successful after that opposition, it would be a feather
in Groot Willem's _hat_.

That it would succeed he had little doubt.  They were all nicely placed.
The two boys had got round to the opposite side of the herd, and once
these showed themselves a little nearer, the antelopes would face
round--they were browsing _towards_ the side to which the boys had been
sent--and feed in the direction of the concealed hunters.  Springboks
would do so, said Groot Willem to himself.

But springboks are not blesboks.  They differ not only in size and
colour, but in many of their habits; and just by a difference in one of
these last was Groot Willem destined to disappointment.  A curious habit
they have--and one which is shared by a few other animals, both of the
antelope and deer species--knocked all Groot Willem's fine calculations
into "pie."

Instead of turning when Klaas and Jan approached them from the opposite
side, as all expected they would do, the stubborn creatures would not be
turned, but kept on most determinedly in their original course.  It is
true that they swerved a little to _get past_ the boys; but as soon as
they were fairly beyond them, they headed once more in the same
direction as before.

Klaas and Jan were at some distance from each other, so as to make a
wider front to the drive; but for all that, the blesboks swept past both
at such a distance as to give no chance for a bullet, even though sent
from the long roer.  Neither of the boys fired, as they had been told
not to do; and as both behaved discreetly and quietly, the antelopes,
after galloping some distance to their rear, slackened their pace, and
again commenced browsing.

Groot Willem felt considerably chagrined at the result, and got well
laughed at by both Hans and Arend; but what annoyed him still more was a
word or two uttered by the rival hunter.

"I knew," said Hendrik emphatically--"I knew it wouldn't do.  Do you
take blesboks for sheep, to be driven about by a pair of boys mounted on
ponies?  Bah!"

This was a terrible cut for Groot Willem; but he replied to it by
alleging that his plan had not had a fair trial.  It was now plain to
all that the blesboks _fed up wind_; and, therefore, the _stand-men_
should have headed them instead of the _drivers_.

"Let us try it that way.  I'll warrant you we'll succeed.  If we don't,
then we can do as _Master_ Hendrik recommends; and we'll see how _his_
plan, which is no plan at all, may answer."

There was a slight touch of sarcasm in Groot Willem's tone when he
referred to Hendrik, and the emphasis on the "Master," partook strongly
of the character of a sneer counter to _his_ which Hendrik had given.

There could be no objection to try the thing over again, according to
the mode suggested by Groot Willem; and they all assented to his
proposal.  It _was_ plain that the blesboks ran in the "wind's eye,"
else they never would have "run the gauntlet" against Klaas and Jan, as
they had done.  Such being the case, the hunters, by laying in wait to
windward, would have a decided advantage, and, properly placed, could
not fail to reach some of the advancing herd.

Should the scheme turn out differently, then they could follow Hendrik's
advice, and ride _tail-on-end_ upon the blesboks.

With these ideas, the four galloped away to one side, and, making a wide
_detour_, headed the game.  Klaas and Jan were left in the rear to
follow it up, and force it gently forward.

In good time the stand-men were again placed, and watched the advancing
antelopes with interest.  The "blaze" upon their faces appeared larger
and larger, and their broad, white muzzles gleamed in the eyes of the
hunters, almost within range of their guns.  But at this moment, the
animals raised their graceful necks, uttered a strange, snorting cry,
and then, instead of turning to fly back, bounded right forward!

Surely they were coming within range, thought every one, as he knelt
with ready firelock behind his sheltering mound.  "Good!" muttered Groot
Willem to himself.  "I'll turn the laugh upon the whole of them--that I
shall."

But Groot Willem was destined once more to a humiliating disappointment.
As the blesboks came under the lee of each hill that covered a hunter,
they suddenly swerved, and swept round him at such a distance as to
render shooting at them a perfectly ridiculous thing.  Groot Willem had
levelled his roer for a chance shot, when he thought of the unpleasant
consequences of a "miss;" and reluctantly bringing down his piece he
permitted the blesboks to sweep past.

In a few seconds the herd was far beyond the place where they had passed
the hunters; but as no assault had been made upon them, and no gun
fired, they quieted down after a while, and once more commenced
browsing.

Hendrik was now the proud man of the hour.  He would show them how the
slow creatures could be galloped into.  He would run half-a-dozen of
them down before they could clear out of the plain.

"Come on!"

All once again mounted their horses, and rode briskly towards the herd.
When near, they moved more slowly and quietly, so as not to startle
them.

As soon as they had got within the usual distance of four hundred yards,
the bucks moved forward; and then came the "view hilloa!"  The dogs were
let slip, the horses sprang forward, and the chase swept wildly over the
plain.

They had not galloped a mile, before Hendrik discovered his mistake.
Both dogs and horses were distanced by the swift antelopes, and both
lagged far behind.

One by one the hunters fell into the rear, and drew up their foaming
steeds; and in less than twenty minutes time, Hendrik alone, and one or
two of the best dogs, held on.

Hans and Arend, believing that it was a hopeless chase for their horses,
gave it up; and Groot Willem _did not wish to succeed_!  Of course,
Klaas and Jan were with the hindmost; and they all sat in their saddles,
watching first the purple backs of the bucks, and then the head and
shoulders of Hendrik disappearing among the distant ant-hills!



CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

HENDRIK'S HARD GALLOP.

On swept the blesboks over the level sward and on galloped Hendrik after
them--his horse and dogs running at their utmost speed.  For all that,
not a yard could either hunter or hounds gain upon the swift antelopes.
There was no chance for either to "run cunning."  There was no taking "a
cut" upon the game.  The blesboks made not the slightest double--swerved
not a point from their course, but ran in a straight line, dead in the
wind's eye.  No advantage, therefore, was given by the pursued, or could
be taken by the pursuers.  It was a simple question of speed between
horse, dogs, and game.

The dogs gave up first.  They broke down one after another, until only
Hendrik's favourite hound kept near.  Another mile's running, and he too
was used up, and fell to the rear; and now Hendrik galloped alone.

For nearly ten miles he galloped, until the sweat streamed from his
horse's flanks, and the froth from his lips, and still the blesboks
scoured on before him at too great a distance to be reached by his
rifle.  On a fresh horse he could easily have overtaken them now, for
they ran but slowly.  Perhaps he could have closed upon them as it was,
but, with all his desire to do so, he was compelled to ride with
caution.  The burrows of the ant-eater lay in his path, and once or
twice, as he was closing upon the game with good prospect of getting
near, his horse had stumbled, and lost ground again.  This gave the
antelopes a decided advantage, as with light hoof they skimmed over
these impediments without fear.

And still Hendrik was reluctant to pull up.  He thought of the empty
boasting he had made.  He thought of the scornful laugh that would greet
him on his return.  He thought of Groot Willem!

If he could only take back one hide--one pair of horns--all would be
well.  The laugh would be his.  With such thoughts he had been urged
forward, in this long and desperate ride.

He began to despair of success.  The blesboks seemed to run lightly as
ever, while his horse sprang heavily under him.  The noble brute must
soon give up.

Hendrik at length felt for him, and would have drawn bridle; but while
half-resolved to do so, he noticed a range of mountains directly in
front of him.  They appeared to extend across the plain transversely to
his course, or rather two chains met in a sort of angle, quite closing
up the plain in that direction.  Towards this angle the blesboks were
directing their course!

Did they propose taking to the mountain? was the question put by Hendrik
to himself.  If so, he might find an advantage there.  They might come
to a stop, and under cover of the rocks and bushes that grew upon the
mountain-side, he might be able yet to stalk them.

As Hendrik reflected thus, his eyes wandered along the base of both
ranges from the angle where they met to a good distance on each side.
To his surprise he perceived that the bases of both ended in a
precipitous cliff, with no apparent pass leading up!  He was now close
enough to see the cliff.  Not a break appeared along its whole line!

Hendrik was gratified with this discovery.  He was driving the game into
an angle, a very _trap_.  They would be compelled to turn upon him, and
out of such a thick mass, he could not fail to knock over one.  One was
all he wanted.

His hopes returned, inspiring him with new vigour; and, uttering a word
of encouragement to his horse, he pushed forward.

His ride did not last much longer.  Another mile, and it was over.

He had got within five hundred yards of the mountain foot, and less than
half that distance from the bucks that still continued to run straight
toward the angle of the cliffs.  He was now quite sure of a shot.  In
less than a minute, the herd would be compelled either to stop, or turn
back, and meet him in the teeth.

It was time to get his rifle in readiness; and as he intended to fire
into the thick mass, he took several small bullets from his pouch, and
hastily dropped them into the barrel.  He then looked to his
percussion-cap, to make sure that all was right.  It was so.  The copper
was properly adjusted on the nipple.

He cocked his gun, and once more looked forward to the game.  _Not an
antelope was in sight_!

Where were they?  Had they sprung up the mountain?  Impossible!  The
precipice could not be scaled?  Impossible!  Even had they done so, they
would still have been seen upon the mountain face.  They were not in
sight, not one of them!  The hunter reined up, his gun dropped back to
the withers of his horse, his jaws fell, and for some moments he sat
with parted lips, and eyes glaring in wonderment.

Had he been of a superstitious nature, he might have been troubled with
some painful feelings at that moment.  But he was not superstitious.
Although for a moment or two he could not feel otherwise than astonished
at it, he knew there was some natural cause for the "sudden and
mysterious disappearance" of the bucks.

He did not pause long in doubt, but proceeded at once to the proper
quarter for an explanation.  The tracks of the herd guided him to that,
and after riding three hundred yards further, the mystery was explained
to his full and complete satisfaction.

The angle, after all, was not an angle, for the apex was wanting.  There
_was_ a "thoroughfare" without the slightest obstruction.  Although at a
short distance the converging cliffs appeared to impinge upon each
other, there was an opening between them--a narrow pass that like an
isthmus connected the plain over which the chase had gone, with another
and very similar one that stretched away on the other side of the
mountains.  The blesboks must have known it well enough, else they would
not have run so direct for the false angle in the cliffs.  Hendrik
trotted up the pass to convince himself that it was no _cul-de-sac_.
After going a few hundred yards, the isthmus widened again, and he saw
to his chagrin the violet backs of the bucks far off upon the plain that
stretched beyond.

Overcome with disappointment and chagrin, he flung himself from his
saddle, and staggering a few paces, sat down upon a boulder of rock.  He
did not even stop to fasten his horse, but, dropping the bridle over his
neck, left the froth-covered and panting steed to himself.



CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.

HENDRIK CHASED BY THE KEITLOA.

Hendrik's feelings at that moment were not to be envied.  His
reflections were sharply bitter.  He felt mortified and humiliated.  He
wished he had never set eyes upon a blesbok.  A sorry figure would he
cut on his return to camp.  He had laughed heartily at Hans and Arend.
They would reciprocate that laugh, and add interest.  He had ridiculed
the idea of Groot Willem.  Groot would not fail to pay back his scorn.

Besides, he had done his horse no good; perhaps had injured the animal.
There stood he, with steaming nostrils and heaving flanks, quite used
up.  They were nearly twelve miles from camp.  He would scarce be able
to carry his rider back, and Hendrik even began to entertain doubts
about his way.

The thought that he might have lost himself was just entering his mind,
when his reflections were interrupted by a sound that caused him to
start up from that rock, as nimbly as he had ever risen from a seat in
his life.

The same sound seemed to produce a very similar effect upon his horse;
for the latter, on hearing it, suddenly jerked up his drooping head,
pricked his ears, snorted loudly, and, after dancing about a moment on
two, shot off down the pass at full gallop!

Hendrik's eyes did not follow him, nor his thought neither.  Both were
too busy with an animal that came from the opposite side, and which had
uttered the sound that caused such a sudden alarm.  The deep bass snort
and the bellows-like blowing that followed, were no strangers to the ear
of the young hunter.  He knew that, on looking round, he would behold
the black rhinoceros;--and he did so.  That fierce creature was coming
down the pass!

At first sight Hendrik was not so terribly alarmed.  He had hunted the
rhinoceros more than once, and did not deem it such dangerous sport.  He
had always been able to avoid the charges of the clumsy quadruped, and
to escape out of its way when he desired.

But Hendrik for the moment had forgotten that on such occasions he was
seated, not on a boulder of rock, but in the saddle, and it was to his
horse that he owed his immunity from danger.

Now that his horse had run off, and he found himself afoot upon the
plain, with nothing between him and the rhinoceros but twenty yards of
smooth level turf, he became truly alarmed.  And no wonder at it--his
life was in danger.

His first thought was to run up the rocks, thinking by so doing to get
out of the animal's reach.  But, on looking towards these, he perceived
that they formed a precipice on both sides of the pass, with a wall-like
face, that could only have been scaled by a cat!  Hendrik could not
climb up on either side!

In the pass itself there was no shelter for him.  Its bottom was a
smooth sward, sloping but slightly.  It was but the continuation of the
outer plains, that were nearly on the same level.  Here and there stood
a tree, but they were small ones--mere "brush," and a rhinoceros could
have levelled any of them to the ground with his powerful horn.  They
offered no hope, either for concealment or retreat.

There appeared no chance of escape in any way.  To attempt it by running
off would be perfectly useless; for Hendrik knew that a rhinoceros could
overtake the swiftest runner, as every South African hunter could
testify.  Hendrik did not think of it.  To add to his ill-fortune, he
had left his gun strapped to the saddle, and that was now gone off with
the horse; so that his chance of saving himself by the destruction of
the rhinoceros was gone also.  The only weapon left him was his
hunting-knife; but what was a knife against the hide of a rhinoceros?
It might as well have been a needle.

There was but one hope of safety; and that was, that the animal might
not _see_ him.  The rhinoceros possesses the sense of sight only in a
moderate degree.  His eyes are small; and though sharp enough when an
object is directly in front of him, they are so placed in his head,
that, on account of his stiff neck and huge form, he can see nothing
either behind or even at either side of him.

Hendrik had hopes the fierce brute would pass without observing him.
From his movements it was evident he had not noticed him as yet, else he
would already have charged upon him.  The black rhinoceros does not wait
to be provoked.  His own fierce nature furnishes him with sufficient
stimulus, and his fury is habitually directed against creatures the most
innocent and unoffending.

To get as far out of his way as possible, Hendrik glided silently up to
the cliff, and stood close against the rock.

But if the rhinoceros is not a sharp-sighted animal he is one of the
sharpest-scented that lives.  With the wind in his favour, he can smell
even a "rat" at an almost incredible distance.  He is also gifted with a
most acute sense of hearing; and the slightest sound, such as the
rustling of a leaf or the falling of a footstep, will enable him to
guide himself directly to his enemy or his victim.  Were the rhinoceros
endowed with the power of vision to the same degree as he is with that
of smell and hearing, he would be the most dangerous animal in the
world.  As it is, he is any thing but a safe neighbour, and many of the
poor natives of the country he inhabits, fall victims to his
ungovernable temper and brutal strength.  Fortunately his eyes are no
bigger than they are.

They were big enough, however, to see Hendrik as he stood, his dark form
outlined against the cliff, and sharp enough to distinguish him from the
rock.  The breeze, indeed, blowing in his spread nostrils, had warned
him of the hunter's presence, and that had directed his eyes.

As these rested upon the form of the boy, he stopped short in his track,
uttered a snorting noise, vibrated his ears, and flirted his saucy
little tail over his huge hips.  Then placing himself in a menacing
attitude, and giving utterance to an angry blowing, he dashed forward
upon Hendrik as if the latter had been his enemy for life!

Hendrik's presence of mind was called for at this moment; and it came to
his aid.  Had he kept his ground five seconds longer, he would have been
crushed against the rock, or impaled upon the strong horn of the
rhinoceros.  But the moment the latter charged, the boy sprang out from
the cliff.

He did not attempt to run--that would not have saved him; and
fortunately he knew it.  He merely stepped out to the more open ground
in the middle of the pass, and there stood fronting his assailant.  The
latter having seen the movement, swerved in his course, so as again to
head direct for his intended victim; and without stopping, rushed
forward as before.

Hendrik stood still, until the sharp black horn almost touched him.
Then bounding to one side, he glided past the rhinoceros, and ran in an
opposite direction.

He looked back as he ran; and seeing that the fierce brute had turned
suddenly on the failure of his charge, and was close at his heels, he
again made stand, confronting the animal as before.  Again he waited
until the rhinoceros was close up, and repeated the manoeuvre of
springing to one side and running behind.  This Hendrik had heard was
the only way to escape the rhinoceros in open ground.  Had he sprung
aside a moment too soon, that is, before the sudden bound enabled him to
clear the field of the animal's vision, he would certainly have been
followed and overtaken; for, unwieldy as the rhinoceros appears, it is
nevertheless far more active than it looks, and the horse can barely get
out of the way of its sudden and impetuous rush.

Hendrik had got two hundred yards down the pass before it turned again,
but the distance was not enough.  He was compelled to make stand for the
third time, and await the terrible onset of his huge enemy.

As before, he succeeded in getting to his rear, but the rhinoceros
seemed to grow wiser, and now wheeled his body at shorter intervals, so
that Hendrik's chances of escape were growing less and less after each
successive charge.  In fact, he was kept dodging and leaping
continuously from side to side.  To have lost his footings or relaxed
his vigilance for a moment, would have been certain and immediate
destruction.

Hendrik began to despair.  He was already panting for breath, with the
perspiration flowing from every pore.  His body ached with fatigue.  His
limbs began to fail him.  He could not hold out much longer.  There was
no reason to believe the powerful brute would desist.  It was child's
play to him; and he had worked himself into a fearful rage at not being
able to strike his victim after so many charges.

Hendrik began to think he was lost for ever.  The thoughts of home, of
father, of sister, and brothers, of Wilhelmina--rushed across his mind;
he would never see them more; he would be killed in that pass, and by
the fierce dark monster that was pursuing him.  They would never know
what had become--Ha!  An ejaculation escaped from Hendrik's lips as
these sad thoughts coursed through his brain.  It was an exclamation of
joy.

The struggle between him and the fierce animal had continued for more
than a quarter of an hour, and had changed from place to place until
they were now about the middle of the pass.  Hendrik's sudden
exclamation had been caused, by his observing upon the cliffs a sort of
ledge or platform about six feet from the ground.  It was scarce that
width, but it ran along the front of the cliff for a distance of several
yards; and, as Hendrik thought, at one end there was a sort of cave or
cleft in the rocks.  He scarce glanced at this, however; the platform
itself was what interested him, and without another thought or look he
grasped the edge of the rock and dragged himself up.

The next moment he stood upon the shelf, and looked safely down upon the
ferocious brute that was snorting in vain fury below!



CHAPTER THIRTY.

HENDRIK IN A STATE OF SIEGE.

Hendrik breathed freely, though he puffed and panted a long time after
getting upon his perch.  His mind was at ease, however, for he saw at
once that the rhinoceros could not reach him.  The most it could do was
to get its ugly snout over the edge of the rock, and that only by
raising itself upon its hind-legs.  This it actually did, blowing with
rage, and projecting its broad muzzle as close as it could to the feet
of the hunter, as if to seize him with its elongated and prehensile
lips.

It did so only once.  Hendrik was as angry as the rhinoceros, and with
juster cause; and now, feeling confident of the security of his
position, he bent forward, and with all his might repeatedly kicked the
thick lips of the brute with the heels of his heavy boots.

The rhinoceros danced about, uttering cries of rage and pain; but,
despite the brutal impetuosity of its nature, it no longer attempted to
scale the cliff, but contented itself with rushing to and fro at its
base, evidently determined to _lay siege_ to the hunter.

Hendrik had now time to contemplate this singular animal.  To his
surprise he perceived that it was a new species--that is, one he had
never seen before, although he had heard of it.

Hendrik knew--for Hans had told him long ago--that there were at least
four species of the rhinoceros inhabiting the countries of South Africa
between the Tropic and the Cape, and that probably a fifth existed to
the north of this line.  Of the four, two were _white_ rhinoceroses, and
two _black_.  The white ones were called respectively "kobaoba" and
"muchocho," the black ones "borele" and "keitloa."  The white species
were both larger than the black ones, but of milder disposition.  Their
food was principally grass, while the borele and keitloa browse upon the
tender shoots and leaves of bushes.  The white ones are "unicorns," that
is, their anterior horn is largely developed--in the muchocho being
sometimes three feet in length, and in the kobaoba still longer--while
the posterior horn is simply a knob or bony protuberance.  There are
many other points of distinction between the white and black species,
both in form, colour, and habits.

Now, as the one that had attacked Hendrik was a _black_ rhinoceros, and
was _not_ the borele--for this was the kind they had encountered while
hunting the gnoo--it must be the keitloa.  That it was not the borele
Hendrik saw by its horns.  In the latter the front horn only is
developed to any considerable length--never so long as in the white
ones--whereas, like with them, the posterior horn is little more than a
pointed knob, though longer or shorter in different individuals.  Now,
the rhinoceros before Hendrik's eyes had two thick strong horns upon its
snout, each one being full fifteen inches in length, and of course
nearly equal.  The neck, too, was longer, and the lip more pointed and
prehensile than in the borele for Hendrik knew the latter well, as it is
one of the most common animals upon the frontier.

Hendrik's assailant was the keitloa.  Although less is known of this
species than either the muchocho or borele--because its district lies
farther to the north--yet Hendrik had heard something of its character
from Hans, as well as from old hunters.  He had heard that it is even
more fierce and dangerous than the borele and is more dreaded by the
natives.  In districts where it is common, the people fear it more than
any other animal--not even excepting the lion or the grim buffalo!

Hendrik had heard this about the keitloa, and no longer wondered at its
having attacked him in the savage and unprovoked manner it had done.  He
only thanked his stars that there existed that little ledge of rock upon
which he now stood, and from which he could look down and contemplate
those terrible horns with a feeling of complacency which, five minutes
before, he had not enjoyed.  He almost laughed at the odd situation he
found himself in.

"What a place for Hans!" he said in soliloquy.  "Capital place for him
to study the natural history of this clumsy brute!"

At this moment, as if echoing his thoughts, the keitloa began to exhibit
before him one of its peculiar habits.

There stood a good-sized bush right in front, having a number of
separate stems growing from one root, the whole forming a little clump
of itself.  Against this bush the rhinoceros commenced battling,--now
charging it from one side, now from another,--dashing at it
headforemost, breaking the branches with his horns, and trampling them
under his thick clumsy limbs--all the while, by his menacing look and
movements, appearing as if he was fighting with some enemy in earnest!
Whether in earnest or not, he continued to go on in this way for more
than half-an-hour, until every stem and branch were barked, broken, and
crushed to mummy among his feet, and not till then did he desist from
his furious attacks.

The whole thing had such a ludicrous air about it that it recalled to
Hendrik's mind the story of Don Quixote and the windmill, and set him
laughing outright.  His merriment, however, was not of long duration,
for he now began to perceive that the fury of the keitloa was as
long-lived as it was terrible.  The glances that the animal from time to
time cast upon the hunter told the latter that he had to deal with an
implacable enemy.

As soon as the creature had finished its battle with the bush, it walked
back towards the cliff, and stood with its head erect and its small
lurid eyes gleaming upon the hunter.  It appeared to know he was its
prisoner, and had resolved upon keeping him there.  Its whole manner
satisfied Hendrik that such was its intention, and he began once more to
feel uneasy about the result.

When another hour had passed, and still the keitloa kept watching him
from below, he became more than uneasy--he became alarmed.

He had been suffering from thirst ever since they commenced hunting the
blesbok--he was now almost choking.  He would have given any thing for
one cup of water.

The hot sun--for it was yet only noon--scorched him as he stood against
that bare burning rock.  He suffered torture from heat as well as
thirst.

He suffered, too, from suspense.  How long might his implacable sentinel
keep watch upon him?  Until the keitloa should leave the spot, there was
not the slightest hope of his escaping.  To have returned to the plain
would be certain death.  It would have been death but for the timely
proximity of that friendly rock.  No hope to escape from its broiling
surface so long as the fierce brute remained below.

Would Hans and the others believe him lost, and follow upon his spoor?
They might, but not till the next day.  They would not think of him
being lost before night came, as it was no unusual thing for one of them
to be off alone from morning till night.  How would he endure the
terrible thirst that was raging within him?  How would he suffer it
until they should arrive?

Besides, it might rain during the night.  His spoor would then be
completely obliterated.  They would not be able to follow it, and then,
what might be his fate?

These and many other reflections passed through his mind as he stood
upon the ledge, regarding his fierce jailer with looks of anger and
impatience.

But the keitloa cared not for that.  He still remained upon the ground,
now pacing to and fro by the bottom of the cliff, and now standing
still, with head erect, his small dark orbs scintillating with a look of
untiring vengeance.



CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

A SINGULAR ESCAPE.

As the moments passed, Hendrik's thirst grew fiercer, and his impatience
stronger.  He had already examined the cliff above him--in hopes that he
might have found a way by which it could be scaled.  To no purpose did
he look up.  There were other ledges, it is true, but they were beyond
his reach.  The shelf he stood upon ran along the face of the cliff for
many yards, but narrowed at both ends until it could be followed no
farther.  He had not moved from the spot where he ascended, as that was
the broadest part, and where he was most out of reach of the elastic
snout and long horns of the keitloa.

He now remembered that, while battling about below, he had noticed a
dark spot above the ledge, which he had conjectured to be the entrance
of a cave, or a hole in the cliff.  He had thought of it once again, but
as creeping within a cave would not render him more secure than he was
out on the rock, he had not gone towards it.

Now it occurred to him that he might examine the cave, and enter it if
large enough to admit him.  It would, at least, be pleasanter there, as
he would be sheltered from the hot rays of the sun--an important
consideration at that moment.

But there was another consideration that influenced him still more; and
that was, the thought that were he once _out of sight_ the rhinoceros
_might forget him_.  He knew that the old adage, "out of sight, out of
mind," had a good deal of meaning when applied to the borele, the lion,
and many other dangerous animals; and perhaps the proverb would also
hold good of the keitloa--though what he had heard of this creature gave
him very little ground to hope.  At all events, he could test the thing.
It would not cost much time to make the trial; and even should it prove
of no service in that way, the change from his present stand upon the
hot ledge for a seat within a cool cavern could not otherwise than
better his condition.  To the cave then!

Fixing his eye upon the keitloa, he commenced moving along the terrace,
towards the point where he remembered having noticed the dark fissure in
the cliff.

The keitloa followed, keeping with him step for step; and apparently
roused to fresh vigilance, as if it feared that its victim was about to
attempt an escape.  All the way it followed him; and as the ledge grew
narrower, it became necessary for Hendrik to proceed with great caution.
Not that he was in danger of falling from it, but rather of _being
dragged_--for the rhinoceros, by standing on his hind-legs, was now able
to stretch his broad muzzle above the edge of the rock, and to protrude
his elastic snout across the ledge within a few inches of the wall
beyond.  It therefore required "gingerly" stepping on the part of
Hendrik.  Notwithstanding all the menacing efforts of his adversary,
Hendrik succeeded in reaching the entrance of the cave.

It was a cavern deep and dark, with a mouth sufficiently large to admit
the body of a man in a bent position.

Hendrik was about stooping to enter it, when a loud "purr" sounded in
his ears that caused him to start erect again, as if some one had run a
needle into his back!  The "purr" was quickly followed by a "roar," so
deep and terrible, that in his first moments of alarm, the hunter felt
half inclined to leap to the ground, and risk the horns of the
rhinoceros, which, at that instant, were gleaming above the ledge,
within twenty inches of his feet!

There was no mystery in what caused the alarm.  There was no mistaking
that roar for any other earthly sound.  The cave was tenanted by a lion!

The tenant did not remain much longer within his house.  The roaring
continued; and every moment sounded nearer and clearer.  The huge claws
caused a rattling among the dry pebbles that strewed the bottom of the
cave.  The lion was coming forth!

With the nimbleness of a klipspringer, Hendrik bounded to one side, and
ran back along the ledge, looking fearfully behind him.

This time he was not followed by the keitloa.  The rhinoceros, whether
terrified by the roar of the lion, or whether his attention was solely
taken up by it, remained standing where he had taken up his position,
with his head projected over the rock, and his snout pointed towards the
entrance of the cavern.

Next moment the shaggy front of the lion filled the mouth of the cave,
and the king of beasts and the "king of brutes" came face to face!

For some moments they remained gazing at each other; but the eyes of the
lion seemed to intimidate the keitloa, and the latter drew his head
back, and dropped on all fours to the ground.  Perhaps he would have
gone off from the spot without an encounter; but the ire of the dread
monarch had been aroused by this intrusion upon his rest.  For a moment
he stood lashing his tawny sides with his tail; and then, crouching
until his breast touched the rock, he launched himself out from the
ledge, and came down with all the weight of his body upon the broad back
of the keitloa!

But, king as he was, he had mistaken the character of that "subject," if
he thought he was going either to mangle him badly, or put him to
flight.  Sharp as were his claws, and strong his arms to strike, they
barely scratched the thick hard hide of the pachyderm; and although he
tried to "fix" himself on the shoulders of the latter, he could not
manage to stick.  Had it been a buffalo, or an antelope, or even the
tall giraffe, he would have ridden it to death; but to ride a rhinoceros
was a different affair; and he found it so.  Although he used both teeth
and claws to keep him in the position he had taken, neither would serve
him, and he was dismounted almost in an instant.  The moment the keitloa
felt the fierce rider on its back, it made a desperate rush outward from
the rocks, and shaking its huge body like an earthquake, it cast the
lion to the plain.

The lion crouched as if again to spring; but the latter, suddenly
turning upon his antagonist, stood face to face with him before he could
effect his purpose.

The rhinoceros did not pause a moment, but rushed on his antagonist with
his horns set like couched lances.  The weight of his body, with the
impetuosity of the charge, would have driven those hard sharp weapons
through the toughest skin that lion ever wore, and through his ribs as
well.  The lion seemed to be troubled with some such idea; for, instead
of awaiting the onset of his enemy, he turned tail--the cowardly
brute!--and made off up the pass, the keitloa chasing him as if he had
been a cat!

Hendrik, all the while, had watched the combat from the ledge; but he
never knew how it ended, or whether the rhinoceros overtook the lion or
not.  The moment he saw the two great brutes in full run _up_ the pass,
he leaped from the ledge and ran _down_ it, with all the speed he could
take out of his legs.

On reaching the angle, he hesitated a moment which way to take--whether
to follow back the spoor of the hunt, or the later tracks of his horse--
but at length he decided on following back his own spoor over the open
plain.  He ran along it as fast as he was able, looking over his
shoulders at very short intervals, and still fearful that the great
black body would show itself in his rear.  He was agreeably
disappointed, however.  No keitloa followed in pursuit; and soon another
agreeable fact came under his notice--he perceived that his horse had
also gone back the same way.  On rounding a clump of bushes some
distance farther on, he saw the horse browsing a little way off upon the
plain.

The latter permitted himself to be caught; and Hendrik, once more
mounting to the saddle, pursued his way towards the camp.  The spoor of
the hunt guided him in a direct line; for the blesboks, it will be
remembered, ran all the while to windward, thus following a straight
course.  Hendrik had no difficulty in following the track; and, after
two hours' riding, got back to camp, having picked up most of the dogs
on his way back.

Hans and Arend _did_ laugh at him.  Groot Willem did _not_.  The latter
remembered how his rival had acted after his own tumble over the burrow
of the aard-wolf; and now reciprocated Hendrik's handsome behaviour on
that occasion.  Groot Willem and Hendrik were likely to become great
friends.



CHAPTER THIRTY TWO.

A VAST HERD OF ANTELOPES.

Next day the young yagers were witnesses to a most extraordinary
spectacle; and that was, a vast herd of blesboks,--so vast, that the
plains appeared literally covered with their purple masses!

This herd was not browsing, nor at rest, but scouring up against the
wind--as those hunted the day before had done--and evidently running as
if some dreaded enemy in their rear had given them an alarm.

The mass of bodies was nearly half a mile in width; but it would have
been difficult to estimate its length, as it continued to pass before
the eyes of the yagers for more than an hour!  On the animals poured,
sometimes running in line, and sometimes the hindmost leaping over those
that preceded them, moving like an impetuous torrent.  All of them ran
with necks extended forward, their noses close to the ground, like
hounds running upon the scent!

Here and there they were closely packed in dense masses, while in the
intervals between, the bucks were thinly interspersed; and now and then
were wide breaks, like an army marching in column.

The cause of these openings was simply that the immense drove consisted
of a great many separate herds, all running by one impulse; for it is a
curious habit of the blesboks and bonteboks, that when one herd becomes
alarmed, all the other herds that chance to be in the same plains with
this one, both to windward and leeward of it, start off in succession;
and as all, from their habit of running up the wind, must follow the
same direction, a constant drove, or rather a continuous succession of
droves is formed, and passes in open column before the spectator who may
be on either flank.  The wonderful spectacle of so many living
creatures, running together in such countless numbers, brought to mind
the accounts, which the young yagers had read, of the migrations of the
buffalo on the prairies of America, and also those of the
passenger-pigeon.  Of course, the resemblance to the "trek-boken" of
their own springboks, which all of them had witnessed, was also
remembered.

On this day our hunters were more successful than upon the preceding.
They had learnt by their experience of yesterday how to "jag" the
blesbok.

Instead of attempting either to "stalk" or "head" them, they found that
the best plan was to ride along the flanks of the running herd, and now
and again dash near enough to fire into the thick of them.  The
blesboks, while moving to windward, will permit the hunter to get within
three or four hundred yards of their flank; and the mounted hunter,
keeping his horse fresh, can now and then gallop within shooting
distance before the moving mass can turn out of its course.  Firing
among a flock in this aimless way, the bullet is not always sure of a
victim, but now and then a buck fells to the shot.

Practising this plan, the young yagers played upon the flanks of the
great herd during the whole time of its flight to windward; but
notwithstanding the continuous cracking of rifles, with now and then the
louder detonation of Groot Willem's great elephant-gun, the slaughter
was not very great.  Six only "bit the dust."  But as in the six there
chanced to be an equal number of bucks and does, the hunters were quite
content.  They were not "jaging" for the meat, but merely to get
specimens of the horns and prettily-painted skins; and three of each
were as many as they wanted.

The hunt was soon over; and as their horses were pretty well "blown,"
the yagers returned at an early hour to camp, taking with them only the
heads, horns, and skins of their game, with just enough of the venison
to give them fresh steaks for a day or two.

One peculiarity they remarked in skinning the blesboks--that the skins
of these beautiful creatures exhaled a pleasant perfume--arising, no
doubt, from the fragrant plants and herbage upon which the animals feed.

The afternoon was spent in dressing the skins--by removing the fatty
flesh that adheres to them--and they were then spread out to dry.  Under
such a hot sun, a few hours was sufficient to render them dry enough to
be carried on to the next camp, where they would be spread out for a
longer period, and thoroughly prepared for packing in the wagons.

Hendrik and Groot Willem performed this service; but the preparing of
the heads--a more scientific operation--was the work of Hans assisted by
Arend.  Hans had his box of chemicals, consisting of arsenical soap and
several other noted "preservers," which he had brought along for this
special purpose; and by night, two pairs of heads, with the skin and
horns attached, were thoroughly cleaned and mounted, and ready for
nailing up to the wall.

There was a buck and doe in each pair; one, of course, for the Von
Blooms, and another for the mansion of the Van Wyks.

The only difference between the horns of the _blaze-buck_ and the
_blaze-doe_ is, that those of the latter are shorter, and more slender;
while the skin of the doe is less vivid in its colouring, and smaller,
as is also the body of the animal.  The same remark applies to the
kindred species--the bonteboks--of which brilliantly coloured creatures
full sets of horns and skins were obtained the day after.

On this occasion, the "stand and drive" recommended by Groot Willem had
been tried again, and with great success; each of the four--Hans,
Hendrik, Arend, and Groot himself--having shot his buck as the flock
dashed up to their stands.  Indeed, Hans, upon this occasion, had
carried off the palm.  His double-barrel, loaded with ball, had enabled
him to knock over a couple of the "painted goats"--as bonteboks are
sometimes styled--right and left.

The explanation of their success in this hunt, and their failure when
trying the same plan with the blesboks, is not found in any essential
difference between the two species.  Their habits are almost the same.

No.  Their success lay simply in the fact, that on the day when they
jaged the bontebok, there was no wind--not a breath of air stirring.  On
this account the game were not only unable to run against the wind, but,
keen as is their scent, they were not able to tell behind which ant-hill
lay their concealed enemies.

The consequence was, that Klaas and Jan were able to drive them right up
to the ambushed hunters, who slew them without difficulty.

The "stalk" would not have succeeded on such a day, for these antelopes
trust far more to their nose than their eyes; moreover, a correct
rifle-shot is very difficult to be obtained in the plains of the
"zuur-veldt,"--as the _mirage_ is almost always upon them, and
interferes with the aim.  So strong is this mirage, that objects at a
distance become quite distorted to the eye, and out of all proportion.
A secretary bird stalking along looks as big as a man, and an ostrich
attains the altitude of a church-steeple.  Even the colour of objects
becomes changed; and travellers have mistaken a pair of tawny lions for
the white tilts of their own wagons and have gone towards them, thinking
they were riding into their camp!  An awkward mistake, I should fancy.

After having secured their specimens of the pied antelopes, the young
yagers again broke up camp, and treked away across the plains of the
"zuur-veldt."



CHAPTER THIRTY THREE.

THE LONE MOUNTAIN.

It has been observed, that upon the plains of the zuur-veldt country,
mountains of singular forms meet the eye of the traveller--cones, domes,
square box-like masses with table tops; sharp ridges, like the roofs of
gigantic houses; and some that pierce the heavens with pointed peaks
like the steeples of churches!  Some, again, present a horizontal
outline, like the parapet of a fortification, while square tower-like
masses, rising above the general level, carry out the idea of some work
of military architecture on a grand scale.

Our young yagers were very much interested in these mountain forms, so
varied and fantastic.  Sometimes their route led them along the base of
a precipice rising a thousand feet sheer above the plain, and trending
for miles without a break, so that for miles no access could be had to
the mountain that rose still higher above.  Sometimes they were
compelled to trek along narrow ridges that sloped off on both sides,
leaving scarce enough of level to run the wheels upon.  Then, again,
they would be compelled to pass around some spur, that, shooting for
miles out into the plain, barred their direct path.

As they treked across one of the widest plains they had yet seen, a
singularly formed mountain drew their attention.  It could scarce be
called a mountain, as its altitude above the plain could not have been
more than seven or eight hundred feet; but its brown rocky surface gave
it that character, and to have styled such a mass a hill would have been
equally misnaming it.  There were no "foothills," or inequalities near
its base.  The greensward of the level plain stretched away on every
side--its verdant colour strongly contrasting with the dark brown
granite of the mountain.

The sides of this singular mountain sloped from base to summit as
regularly as those of an Egyptian pyramid; and at a distance it looked
pyramidal, but on coming nearer its rounded form could be perceived.  It
was, in reality, an obtuse cone, perfect in all except the apex, and it
was there that the peculiarity of this mountain lay.  Instead of ending
at the apex, a steeple-like rock rose out of the summit some thirty feet
higher, ending in a point that appeared from below as "sharp as a
needle."  It was this that had drawn the attention of the young yagers
more particularly, as other mountains of conical form were common enough
along their route; but this one, looking, as one of them observed, like
an inverted funnel, differed from any they had yet seen.  It was very
conspicuous, thus standing isolated in the midst of the open plain, and
contrasting so much in its colour with the green table upon which it
appeared to rest.

"Let us go and explore it," proposed Arend; "it isn't much out of our
way.  We can easily overtake these slow-going oxen again.  What say ye
all?"

"Let us go, by all means," said Hans, who fancied that upon so
odd-looking a mountain he might fall in with some new plant.

"Agreed!" cried all the others in a breath, for when Hans proposed a
thing it was usually assented to by his younger comrades.

Without further ado the whole six turned their horses' heads for the
mountain, leaving the wagons to trek on across the plain, towards the
point where they intended to encamp.

When the riders first faced to the mountain, it appeared to be about a
mile off, and all, except Hans, believed that it was not more.  Hans
maintained that it was _five_, and was unanimously contradicted.  A
discussion took place, Hans standing alone--five to one against him.
The idea of its being more than a mile was scouted.  Hans was
ridiculed--laughed at--called blind.

There was a little epitome of the world on that plain--a paraphrase upon
a small scale of Galileo and his contemporaries.

And here let me counsel you, boy reader, ever to be cautious how you
pronounce against ideas that may be put forth, because they chance to
differ from those you already hold.  Half of what you have already
learnt is erroneous, and much of it has been taught you with an evil
intent.  I do not refer to what has been taught you by your school
instructor, who imparts knowledge to you with the best of motives.  But
the tyrants of the earth--both priests and princes--for long centuries
have had the moulding of men's minds, and they have spared no labour to
shape them to their own purposes.  They have so well succeeded, that one
half the _very proverbs_ by which conduct is guided, prove upon
examination to be false and wicked.

There is a peculiarity about the attainment of knowledge which assists
wicked men in misleading their victims, and I would wish that all of you
should know this peculiarity.  I do not claim to be its discoverer, for
others may have discovered it as well; but up to this hour I have met
with no promulgation of it.

It is this, that _every truth is overshadowed by a sophism, more like
the truth than truth itself_.  This law holds good throughout the whole
extent of the moral, intellectual, and material world.

I cannot pause here to illustrate the above statement--not even to
explain it.  But I hope the day is not distant, when you and I may
converse upon such matters _face to face_.

I hope you believe that I have helped you to some knowledge; but I now
affirm, and in full seriousness, that, if you examine the statement I
have thus emphatically made, and _study it to a full understanding_, you
will have gained more knowledge in that one sentence than all I have
hitherto written.  You will find in it the key to most of the errors and
misfortunes that afflict mankind.

In that sentence you will also find a key to the difference of opinion
that existed between Hans and his five companions.  None of the five
were _thinkers_--they relied entirely on the evidence of their senses.
A process of ratiocination never troubled the brain of any of the five.
Had they never before seen a straight rod plunged into crystal water,
they would most certainly have believed that the rod was bent into an
angle--ay, and have ridiculed any one who should have contradicted the
_evidence of their senses_, just in the way they now ridiculed Hans for
asserting that an object was five miles off, when they _plainly saw_ it
was only a fifth part of that distance.  It certainly _appeared_ only a
mile off--that is, to one who had been in the habit of measuring
distances by the eye in the ordinary atmosphere of a lowland country.
But Hans knew they were now in a region elevated many thousand feet
above the level of the sea.  Partly from books, and partly from his own
observation, he had studied the nature of the atmosphere at that
altitude; and he was acquainted with the optical illusions of which it
is frequently the cause.  He admitted that the mountain _looked_ near,
even as near as a mile; but he held on to his original opinion.

Patient as was the young philosopher, the ridicule of his companions
nettled him a little; and suddenly pulling up on the plain, he
challenged them to a measurement.  They all agreed to the proposal.
They had no measuring chain--not even a yardstick.

But they knew that Hans could tell distances without one; and having
consented that his measurement should be taken, they all rode back to
the point where the discussion had commenced.

How was Hans going to manage it?  By trigonometrical triangles, you will
say.  Not a bit of it.  He could have told the distance in that way if
he had wished; but he had a simpler plan.  Hans did not carry a
_viameter_, but a _viameter_ carried him!

Yes, in the stout steady-going cob which he rode, he had as perfect a
viameter as ever was set to a wheel; and Hans having once put his horse
to the proper pace, could tell the distance passed over almost as
correctly as if it had been traced by a chain!  There was a certain rate
of speed into which Hans's horse, when left to himself, was sure to
fall, and this speed was so many steps to the minute--the steps being of
equal length.  By either counting the steps, or noting the time, the
exact distance could be obtained.

Hans had been in the habit of putting his horse to the proper pace for
this very purpose, and could do so at a minute's warning.  So, taking
out his watch to regulate the speed by the moment hand, he started
forward in a direct line for the mountain.

All rode, after, without noise--so as not to disturb Hans in his
counting.  But for that, they would have continued to gibe him a little.
Only for a short while, however; for, as they rode on, and the mountain
did not appear to _come_ any nearer, their faces began to look very
blank indeed.

When they had ridden for a full half-hour, and the mountain _still
looked a mile off_, Hans had five very crest-fallen boys moving along in
his rear.

When they had ridden nearly another half-hour, and their horses' snouts
almost touched the rocks of the mountain, none of the five was surprised
to hear Hans cry out in a loud firm voice:--

"Just five miles and a quarter!"

Not a word was spoken.  Not one of the five ventured even a whisper of
contradiction.  Hans did not laugh in his turn, but facing round simply
said--

"_Every truth is overshadowed by a sophism more like the truth than
truth itself_!"



CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR.

THE APPROACH TO THE LONE MOUNTAIN.

Although from a distance the mountain had appeared of smooth outlines,
now, that they gazed upward from its base, it presented quite a
different aspect.  Loose boulders of rock, strewed thickly upon the
slope, covered its sides up to the very summit, giving it the appearance
of a gigantic "cairn," such as may be seen upon the tops of some of our
own mountains.  These, however, are the work of men, while that upon
which our yagers gazed looked as though giants had erected it.

Among the loose stones there was yet a trace of vegetable life.  Plants
of the cactus kind, and rare euphorbias, grow in the spaces between the
rocks; and here and there stood a small tree, with spreading top and
myrtle-like foliage, casting its shadow over the side of the mountain.
The arborescent aloe was also seen, its coral-red spike appearing above
the sharp edge of some huge boulder, and strongly contrasting with the
dull grey of the rock.

After contemplating the singular eminence for some minutes, it was
proposed that they should all ascend to its summit.  It appeared but a
very short way.  The path was not very steep.  A ten minutes' climb
would suffice.  What a splendid view they should have from its top!  It
commanded a prospect of the country they were about to traverse for the
next three days' journey at least.  They might lay out their course from
it, and by noting landmarks, avoid the detours of mountain-spurs and
other obstacles.  Should they ascend it?

Yes.  All of them desired to do so--some to enjoy the view; some for the
fun of climbing; and Klaas and Jan because they had seen a large bird
wheeling around the summit, which might be the king of birds--an eagle;
and they wished to make a nearer acquaintance with his majesty.

Hans also had an interest in going up.  He wanted to examine the
vegetation of the mountain--that appeared to differ essentially from
that of the surrounding plain--and particularly the myrtle-leaved tree
already mentioned.

So the voice for making the ascent was unanimous--_nemine dissentiente_.

Without further ado, they all dismounted--for it would have been
impossible to have ridden up such a rock-strewed path--and secured their
horses by tying their bridles together.  This was their usual way when
there was no tree to which they could make them fast.  The mode answered
well enough.  The animals were well acquainted, and on friendly terms,
so that they did not bite or kick one another; and with their noses all
turned inward, no one of them could stray off without the consent of the
other five, and this unanimity could never be obtained.  Even had five
of them agreed to wander a bit, there was one that would have opposed
such a conspiracy, and _pulled against it_ with all his might--one that
would have remained loyal to his master; and that was Hans's steady,
sober-sided cob, that had been trained to wait wherever his rider left
him.  Upon many a botanical excursion had he carried his master, and
often had stood with no other fastening than the bridle thrown over his
withers, while the botanist climbed the rocky steep, or dived into the
thick bush, to pluck some rare plant or flower.

Leaving their horses, the party commenced the ascent.  Now their path
lay between large masses of granite, and now passed over the tops of the
rocks.  It required them to use all their strength and agility; and
although from below they fancied they would reach the summit in about
five minutes time, they were sadly disappointed.

There are few things more deceptive than the ascent of a mountain.  It
is usually more difficult than it appears, and a large allowance should
be made in the calculation, both for time and labour.  The philosopher
Hans knew this very well, and told the others that it would take them a
full half-hour to get to the top.  Some of them were inclined to
ridicule his assertion; but they remembered their late humiliating
defeat, and remained silent--although they _thought_ five minutes would
bring them to the very summit.

At the end of five minutes they began to change their opinion; and when
three times five had passed over, they found they were still but
half-way up the slope!

Here they halted, and five minutes were spent in "puffing and blowing."

Hans had now an opportunity of examining the tree that so interested
him, for they had stopped under the shade of one.

It was not a large tree, nor could it be called a very handsome one; but
for all that it proved to be of a most interesting character.  It was
much branched with small leaves, of a pale green colour, and in their
general effect having a resemblance to the myrtles.  Its flowers, too,
were small and inconspicuous.  It chanced to be in flower at the time,
and this enabled the botanist to determine its character.  It belonged
to the order _Santalaceae_, or "sandal-woods;" and was a species of
_Santalum_, closely allied to the _Santalum album_ of India, which
yields the sandal-wood of commerce.

They all knew what sandal-wood was, as they had seen various
"knick-knacks" manufactured out of this famous wood; but they knew not
whence it came, or what sort of tree produced it.  Hans, however, taking
advantage of the halt, gave them this information:--

"The sandal-wood," he said, "is produced from a tree of the same genus
as the one now above us.  It grows in the mountainous parts of the
Malabar country, and also in the islands of the Indian Archipelago.  It
is a small tree, rarely growing to a foot in diameter.  Its wood, as you
know, is highly prized on account of its agreeable fragrant smell; and
because this fragrance not only keeps it from decaying, but also
preserves any material, such as clothes, silk, and other articles that
may be in contact with it, from insects or rust.  In consequence of this
quality of the sandal-wood, it is in great demand for making boxes,
cabinets, and such articles of furniture; and, on account of its
agreeable odour, it is also manufactured into fans and necklaces which
command high prices.

"The Brahmins use it in their sacrifices to the god Vishnu, to scent the
oil employed in the ceremony."

"Are there not two kinds of sandal-wood?" inquired Klaas.  "Sister
Wilhelmina has a box of it and a necklace, too.  They were brought from
India by Uncle, but they are very different.  The box is white, and the
beads of the necklace are of a beautiful yellow colour--maybe they are
dyed."

"No," answered Hans, "they are not dyed.  There _are_ two kinds, white
sandal-wood and the yellow sort, and it has been said that they were the
produce of different trees.  This is not the case, however.  Although
there is more than one species of _Santalum_ that produces the
sandal-wood of commerce, the white and yellow kinds are taken from the
same tree.  The reason of the difference is, that towards the heart of
the tree where the wood is older, and especially down near the root, the
colour is of a deep yellow; whereas the young wood that lies outwardly
is nearly white.  The yellow part is harder, more fragrant, and, of
course, more valuable.

"When these trees are felled for their wood, the bark is at once
stripped off and the trunk buried for nearly two months--which
strengthens its odour, and renders it more agreeable."

While Hans was giving these interesting details, the others took out
their knives; and each cutting a branch from the sandal-tree, applied it
to his nose, and then tasted it.

But, though they could perceive its fragrant smell, they found it
perfectly insipid to the taste.  Hans said it was so with the _Santalum
album_ or true sandal-wood of India--that, notwithstanding its sweet
perfume, it is quite tasteless.

He further informed them that the name "sandal-wood" is not derived from
the use to which the wood is sometimes put--that of making _sandals_.
On the contrary, these derive their name from the wood itself.  The true
derivation of the word is from the Persian "sandul," which signifies
useful, in relation to the valuable qualities of the timber.  The
sandal-wood of the Sandwich Islands, added Hans, is procured from two
species different from _Santalum album_.

The yagers, having now rested a sufficient time, again faced up the
mountain, and in fifteen minutes after stood upon its top.



CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE.

THE LITTLE HYRAX.

It is not quite correct to say that they stood upon the summit.  They
had reached the top of the hill, but still above them rose the
steeple-like rock which they had observed from the plain, and whose odd
appearance had allured them to the spot.

A singular rock it was, rising full thirty feet above the summit of the
mountain.  Its sides were nearly vertical, but scored and seamed as if
the rain had worn its surface into furrows.  It gradually narrowed
upward, until it ended in a point not four inches in diameter; but along
its sides from top to bottom similar points stood up; so that the whole
structure--if we may call it so--bore a strong resemblance to a Gothic
turret, rising in the midst of many others that stood out from its base
and along its sides.

It appeared inaccessible to any other creature than a cat, a monkey, or
a winged bird; and of course not one of the party thought of such a
thing as climbing it.  That would have been a perilous undertaking.

After they had satisfied themselves in gazing at this singular
geological phenomenon, they commenced moving around its base to the
opposite side.  It was not so easy to get round it, as huge sharp
boulders covered the whole scarp of the hill around its base, and they
had either to mount over these, or push themselves through the narrow
interstices between.

Before they had got quite round, however, an object came under their
eyes that caused them to halt, and remain for some time in an attitude
of observation.

About half-way down the hill rested a rock of vast dimensions, whose
sharp angular top rose higher than those around, and commanded the view
of a broad space of the mountain-side.  Upon the top of this rock was
perched a very large bird--full as large as a turkey-cock.  Its plumage
was of a deep black colour, except over the back, where there was a
patch as white as snow covering the shoulders.  The feathers upon the
legs reached to the very toes, and were of brown colour.  The toes
appearing beneath were of a bright yellow.

The general outline of its form--the abrupt curving of the beak--the
full-rounded tail--the strong broad wings, and the feathered legs
looking as though the bird wore _trowsers_--were all characteristic
points that told its species.

"An eagle!" exclaimed the hunters as soon as they saw it.

It was an eagle, and one of the largest of its kind.  It was the great
vulture-eagle of Verreaux, (_Aquila Verreauxii_).  This bird no doubt it
was that Klaas and Jan had caught a glimpse of as they approached the
mountain.

It was scarce two hundred yards from the boys, and although they had
been making a considerable noise while passing over the rocks, it had
not heard them, and still sat without noticing their proximity.  That
would have been strange for a bird so shy as an eagle; but it was
accounted for by the fact that its attention at the moment seemed to be
taken up with something else.  This was evident from the attitude in
which it sat, or rather stood, with claws firmly clenched upon the edge
of the rock, and neck stretched forward and downward.  It was evidently
eyeing some object below, in which it took a deep interest.

Its back was turned upon the hunters, and offered a fair mark; but it
was far beyond point-blank range of any of their guns, except perhaps
the roer.  Groot Willem, however, might have reached it, but at such a
distance and with so small a mark a bullet from the smooth bore would
have been little better than a chance shot.

Groot Willem was about to try it, however; but Hans begged of him to
hold his fire a little longer, so that they might watch the movements of
the eagle--which, from its odd attitude, was evidently meditating to
surprise some victim below.

It was not long before the victim was also in sight--appearing suddenly
upon a little terrace, some twenty or thirty yards farther down the
mountain.  It was a small quadruped, of a greyish brown colour, darker
above, and of lighter tint beneath.  It had the look of a rabbit, though
considerably larger than one, thicker in the body, and without the long
ears.  It stood, moreover, not so high on its legs, and these appeared
much bent as it walked.  Like the rabbit, its hair was of a thick woolly
nature, though long scattered silky hairs rose above the general surface
of its furry coat it was entirely without a tail; and the four claws of
its fore feet were _not_ claws, but nails resembling little hoofs?  On
the hind-feet it had but three toes; the inside one of each ending in a
regular claw.

Of course, these peculiarities were not noticed by the spectators at the
moment, as the little quadruped was beyond the reach of such minute
observation.  They were communicated afterwards by Hans, who knew the
animal well.

Altogether it was by no means an interesting animal to look at
externally; yet in its internal structure it was one of the most
interesting upon the globe.

In that small round woolly creature, timid as a mouse--now making abrupt
runs across the little platform--now stopping short in its career, to
nibble a leaf of some plant, or to look suspiciously around--in that
insignificant quadruped the young yagers beheld a near relative of the
big brutal rhinoceros!  Yes; though without any horn upon its snout, and
without the naked skin--the teeth, the skull, the ribs, the hoof-like
toes, the whole internal structure of the animal in question, prove it
to be a rhinoceros!--a regular pachyderm!  So says Frederick Cuvier.

"What a wonderful triumph," said Hans, "the closet naturalists have had
in this discovery!  `What a triumph of anatomy,' says M. Cuvier, `that
proves this supposed rodent to be a rhinoceros!'  In my opinion it is
rather a proof of the weakness of M. Cuvier's anatomic theories; for
here is a creature, with all the _teeth_ of a rhinoceros, and all the
_manners_ of a rabbit!

"Instead of the bold brutal nature of the rhinoceros--rushing out
without provocation, attacking and butting at whatever comes in its
way--here we have a shy timid creature, that takes to flight on the
slightest suspicion of danger, and seems to be frightened at its very
shadow.  Why, it affords the most absolute proof of the uncertainty of
the _teeth_ and _bones_ as a guide to the mode of life of any animal.
In all animated nature a better illustration could not be found of the
fallacy of M. Cuvier's arguments than this same _hyrax_--for so the
quadruped is called--and, despite the opinion of the celebrated French
savant, I still believe the little creature to be more of a rabbit than
a rhinoceros."  So spoke Hans Von Bloom.  It was bold language for so
young a naturalist!

It is true there was much reason in his holding to the opinion that the
hyrax is no pachyderm.  Its habits are so unlike those of the
thick-skinned brutes--its mode of life so different from that of a
rhinoceros.

Its habits are very simple, and can be told in a few words.  It is
gregarious; dwells upon the mountains, and in the most rocky places;
makes its den in the crevices and caves that are found there, steals
forth to eat or bask in the sun; runs timidly and with a shy suspicious
look; feeds on grass and leaves of plants, and is fond of those of
aromatic properties; can escape from most carnivorous quadrupeds, but is
successfully preyed upon by birds, and especially by the vulture-eagle--
the species already described.  Such is the history of the "_daman_" or
"_hyrax_," "dassie," "rock-badger," or "rock-rabbit"--by all of which
names the creature has figured in books.

It is one of those anomalies that cannot be classed with other
quadrupeds, and has been constituted a genus of itself.  Two species are
known, differing very slightly from each other.  They are _Hyrax
Syriacus_ and _Capensis_, or the Syrian and Cape hyrax.

One of the most interesting facts in relation to this quadruped is, that
the Syrian species is most probably the "coney" of the Scriptures.  In
fact, the description can apply to no other existing animal.

I have said that all this knowledge was obtained afterwards from the
philosopher, Hans.

Just then there was no time for such observations; for the hyrax, with
two or three of its companions, had scarce appeared from the platform,
when the eagle shot down from the rock, and swooped right into the midst
of them.

The boys heard the shrill cry of the little quadrupeds, as the shadowy
wings covered them; and expected to see the eagle rise with one of them
in its talons.

They were disappointed, however, as well as the bird itself.  The
"rock-rabbits" had been too quick for their well-known and dreaded
enemy; and before the eagle was able to put a claw into their wool, they
had all scattered, and rushed within the safe shelter of their dark
caves.

Of course, they were not coming out any more that afternoon.  The eagle
seemed to have this very idea; for, rising into the air with a scream of
disappointment, it flew off towards the other side of the mountain.



CHAPTER THIRTY SIX.

THE KLIPSPRINGERS.

In hopes of getting a shot at it on the wing, the boys crouched behind
the boulders as it flew round, holding their guns in readiness.  It
passed them at too great a distance, and none of them fired.

They expected to see it fly off, and wing its way towards the
neighbouring mountains--as it could only be a stray visitor to the hill,
some hungry old eagle out upon a hunt.

It was about to do this; for it had already risen to a considerable
elevation, and was heading away, when all at once it stopped suddenly in
its flight, and balanced itself for some moments in the air, with neck
bent downward, as if it had taken a fresh interest in some object that
had just come under its eye below.

Had the rock-rabbits ventured forth again?  No.  It could not be they;
for the eagle was hovering over a different quarter--quite the opposite
side of the mountain.  If rock-rabbits were in sight, they must be a
different party.  That was not improbable.  There might be others upon
the mountain.  And yet the eagle would not hover above _them_ in that
way.  The habit of this species is not to "swoop" from on high, but to
watch from a perch upon some neighbouring rock, and dash upon the hyrax,
when it comes out to feed or bask--precisely as the boys had seen it do.

So quick is the rock-rabbit in escaping to its retreat, that even an
eagle, darting from a high elevation, would fail to clutch it.  Had
there been rock-rabbits below, they would have perceived the great black
bird above, and would have secured themselves at once.  It could not be
they that were now occupying the attention of the vulture-eagle.

It was _not_ they.  Hans, who with his double-barrel had hoped to obtain
a shot at the eagle, and had crept ahead of his companions to the other
side of the tower-rock, saw that it was not rock-rabbits that had caused
the eagle to pause in its flight, but some creatures of a very different
character.

About half-way down the slope grew a sandal-wood tree, one of the
largest upon the mountain, with a full bushy top.  Directly, under this
tree was a mass of tabular rock, with a smooth top, quite horizontal,
and several yards in length and breadth.  Over this, and nearly covering
its whole extent, the sandal-wood threw its protecting shadow; so that
while the hot sun baked down upon the surrounding slope, the surface of
the rock was kept shaded and cool.  It was just such a spot as one would
have chosen to have rested upon, commanding a far view of plains and
picturesque mountains, and sweetly shaded from the burning noonday
beams--just such a spot as the contemplative mind would have desired,
and in which, freed from care, it could have delivered itself up to
pleasant meditations.

One cannot help fancying that many of God's wild creatures, in selecting
their haunts and homes, have an eye to the picturesque.  I can tell at a
glance the cliff in which an eagle will make its eyrie, the glade that
will be haunted by the stag or the fallow-deer, the tree under which he
will repose, and oft times it has appeared to me that these favourite
haunts are chosen by animals less for the security they afford, than for
the picturesque beauty that surrounds them.

One could hardly have fancied that lone wild mountain--that smooth
table-rock--that fragrant sandal-wood tree--without some living thing
placed there by Nature to enjoy the scene, and give life to the
picture--which would otherwise have been incomplete.

It was not incomplete.  It was crowned and perfect.  The shade of the
sandal-wood fell not in vain.  Upon the surface of the table-rock was a
group of living creatures born to enjoy that wild and lovely scene--
created, as it were, to give a finish to the picture.

There were three individuals in this group--three quadrupeds of a kind
that had not been seen by the young yagers since the setting out of
their expedition.  Though these animals wore a similar coat of hair, and
were of the same yellowish olive colour, all three were of different
sizes.  The largest was scarce so tall as a pointer-dog, while the
smallest was still less than a tiny young kid.  The second was not
half-way between the two, but nearly equal in size to the largest.  The
principal difference between the latter two lay in the fact that the
large one had a pair of horns upon its head, which the other wanted.
There were no horns neither upon their tiny little companion.  For all
this difference, the three were evidently of the same genus and species,
nay, nearer relations still--of the same _family_.  They were a family
of _klipspringers_.

Hans knew at once it was the klipspringer, (_Oreotragus saltatrix_), and
so did all the others--for this interesting antelope is still found
within the settled districts of the Cape Colony--wherever high
inaccessible cliffs and rock-covered mountains afford it a secure
retreat from dog, hunter, and hyena.

Among the many interesting forms of the antelope tribe, that present
themselves in South Africa, the klipspringer is not the least
interesting.  Though a very small creature, and of no great value to the
hunter, it differs so much in its haunts and habits from others of the
antelope race, as to make it an object of curiosity, even where it is
common and often seen.  Unlike the oryx, the gnoo, the hartebeest, the
blesbok, the eland, and a host of others, the klipspringer never appears
upon the plain.  It is purely a mountain-dwelling animal, and the crag
and cliff are its favourite haunts.  There it is safe from the
carnivorous beasts--the lion, the hyena, the wild-hounds, and the
jackal--none of which can reach its secure retreat upon the ledges of
the beetling precipice.  Even the leopard cannot follow it there--
notwithstanding his recurved claws that enable him to climb like a cat.
On the steep cliffs, and along the dizzy heights, the klipspringer has
no equal in South Africa; he can scale them as no other quadruped; he
fears no four-footed _beast_ of prey.  Three birds alone are his
dangerous enemies--and these are the eagle of Verreaux, the Kaffir
eagle, and the lammergeyer.

The klipspringer stands about twenty inches in height is strongly and
compactly built, with stouter limbs than the small antelopes of the
plain.  His horns are but four inches in length, rise vertically up from
his head, and incline slightly forward.  They are wrinkled at the base,
and ringed in the middle.  The hair that covers his body is long, wiry,
and thickly placed upon the skin; and standing out upon end, gives the
animal somewhat of a porcupine appearance.  The colour is a nearly
uniform yellowish olive, caused by the individual hairs being
ash-coloured at the base, brown in the middle, and yellow at the tips.
One of the most characteristic points about the klipspringer is the
formation of its hoofs.  These, instead of being long and pointed--as is
the case with most antelopes--are cylindrical in form, and rest
vertically upon their bases.  They are jagged at the edges--so as to
give the animal the power of adhering to the smoothest rock, without
danger of slipping.  Like every piece of Nature's handiwork, they are
perfectly adapted to the use for which they are intended.

The klipspringer is not gregarious; but is seen in pairs, or _families_,
as they now appeared under the eyes of the young yagers.

When Hans first noticed them, they were in different attitudes.  The
buck was standing upon the rock looking out over the plain below, but
had not as yet perceived the eagle--as the thick leafy top of the
sandal-wood interposed between him and it.

The doe was lying down; while, kneeling beside her, and drawing
nourishment from her teats, was the little kidling.

Presently, the black shadow of the soaring bird passed over the
greensward of the plain.  It moved under the eyes of the buck, who,
perceiving it, started suddenly, uttered a kind of hissing snort, and
struck the rock with his hoof.  This movement on his part brought the
doe at once to her feet, as well as the little fawn; and all three stood
in an attitude of observation, turning their eyes now upon the shadow
below, and now glancing suspiciously above.  After a moment they all
commenced leaping about, though they still kept upon the rock.  They saw
the eagle, for it had now moved out some distance over the plain, so
that the foliage of the tree was no longer interposed between it and
them.

It was just at this moment that the eagle had paused in its flight, and
hung poised in the air.  It had for the first time placed its eyes upon
the klipspringers.

In a moment the rapacious creature perceived the little fawn, cowering
close behind the body of its mother; and without more ado, the bird
directed its flight downward; and, when nearer, swooped straight at the
group upon the rock.

Sudden as was the dash of the bird, it was a fruitless effort, and it
rose again without having made a victim.

But when the spectators looked for the antelopes, not one of the three
remained upon the table, where they had stood the moment before!  As
quick as the flight of the bird, all three had sprung off from the rock,
and thus escaped from its dreaded claws.

One would have supposed that the klipspringers would have hid themselves
in crevices, as the conies had done.  Not so.  All three were seen--each
standing conspicuously upon the top of a rock, and seeming to await the
further action of the bird.  With heads erect, and eyes turned upward,
they stood, evidently expecting a renewal of the attack.  The eagle,
after hovering around and calculating its distance, swooped again.

In this fresh attempt of the tyrant the little fawn alone was aimed at.
Had it been the others, they would have sprung out of reach as before;
and so, too, did the fawn repeatedly, bounding from rock to rock, with
the elasticity of an india-rubber ball.  But the wily bird continued the
attack, turning each time in shorter circles, until the tiny limbs of
the youthful antelope trembled with weariness.  During all this time the
old ones leaped about, bounding high in the air, and descending upon the
sharpest edges of the rocks, as if they had alighted from a flight with
wings.  The object of their movements evidently was to draw the attack
of the eagle upon themselves, and thus save their offspring.

It was to no purpose, however.  The cunning ravisher preferred making a
victim of the kid, and paid no attention to the manoeuvres of the old
ones.  No doubt, there were eaglets on the neighbouring mountain, and
the tenderest venison was wanted for their dinner.

At all events, the eagle continued to assail the poor little fawn, until
the latter had no longer strength left to leap from the rock upon which
it had taken its last stand.

Another dash made the eagle--a last and final swoop.  Its talons closed
like a cramp upon the vertebrae of the tiny quadruped, which the next
moment was borne aloft into the air!

A shrill sad bleating was heard from below--drowned for an instant by
the discharge of several guns, whose reports echoed like thunder from
the rocks; and then the winged robber, with his victim still clutched in
his talons, was seen falling with fluttering wings to the earth!

The Young Yagers--by Captain Mayne Reid



CHAPTER THIRTY SEVEN.

HUNTING THE KLIPSPRINGER.

The eagle dropped not far from the summit; and the boys, running down to
the spot, found it lying quite dead, with the little klipspringer--also
dead of course--still fast in its claws.  The talons sunk deeply into
the flesh, embraced the spine, and even in death the fierce bird had not
relaxed its hold!

Some would have considered the death of the eagle a just punishment;
but, then, what was its crime?  It is true, it had killed, and would
have carried away, the little fawn of an innocent antelope--one of the
most harmless of creatures.  But what else could it have done?  Nature
had taught it to sustain itself in this way.  Perhaps it had a nest on
the brow of some beetling precipice--for this vulture-eagle of South
Africa is a dweller upon rocks, and not a _tree-eagle_--perhaps in this
nest it had a pair of downy little eaglets, each with an appetite like
that of an ostrich--perhaps they were expecting that very kid, or some
similar dish, for dinner; and would have been very hungry without it--
might have died of hunger?  What, then, could the parent bird do but
provide them, though at the expense of other parents just as much
attached to their offspring as an eagle could be?  How can it be
regarded as a crime?  The eagle did not wantonly destroy the antelope,
but to satisfy the cravings of hunger.  It only obeyed one of the laws
of Nature.

Cruel laws they _do_ seem; yet, if they be crimes, Nature herself is
answerable.  Alas! we cannot comprehend, and, I fear, in this life never
will comprehend, why we, the creatures of the earth, are born to prey
upon one another.  A puzzle to the humane heart is that "chain of
destruction."

Wanton killing of animals _is_ a crime; and our hunters, at first sight,
might be thought chargeable with this in having _wantonly_ shot down the
eagle.  Such was not the case, however.  They did not do so out of any
feeling of wantonness.  They had a proper object in shooting the bird.
It was the representative of a rare and little-known species, and the
possession of its skin for _scientific purposes_ had something to do
with the fatal aim that brought it down--for it was from the
double-barrel of the naturalist the shot was sent that destroyed it.

By the act the klipspringers had been avenged, though there was little
idea of giving them vengeance in the minds of the young hunters.  Quite
the contrary; for in five minutes after, the whole six--buck-dogs and
all--were in full chase after these creatures, as ready to rob them of
their lives as they had been to take away that of their winged enemy.

Nor was it out of wantonness either, or the mere love of hunting, though
that might have been the principal motive with one or two of the party.
But there was a curiosity about these little antelopes, and a desire to
examine them more closely, that urged the young yagers to attempt their
destruction.  They desired to possess their trophies.

You may wonder why they should care about the horns of a klipspringer,
since it is not one of the rare antelopes within the boundaries of the
settlements!  True, the animal itself is not rare; but it is a rare
occurrence, when one falls before the bullet of the hunter--as the
klipspringer is as shy and wary as the chamois itself--and, dwelling in
the most inaccessible places, it is difficult game to capture.  Hence,
the killing of a klipspringer is regarded in the light of a feat, and
its little horns are by no means an ordinary trophy.

The young yagers, therefore, wanted the pair belonging to the buck that
was now leaping over the rocks below.

Some minutes were spent in deliberating as to what would be the best
mode of getting possession of them.

At the report of the guns both the klipspringers had gone farther down
the mountains, and were now standing upon a large boulder near its base.

Hendrik proposed that the party should dash right down after them--dogs
and all--and force them out into the plain, where, it was well known,
they could make but a poor run, and would be easily overtaken by the
buck-dogs.

This plan seemed feasible.  The antelopes were very near the base of the
mountain.  The hunters coming on them from above could easily drive them
into the plain; and then there would be a run between them and the dogs,
of which a fine view would be obtained.

Off started the whole party, directing their course straight down the
mountain to the point where the klipspringers were seen.  The dogs were
set free, and sprang forward in advance.

The hunters moved on as fast as the nature of the ground would permit
them; and in ten minutes would have been near enough to the
klipspringers to have fired, had the latter favoured them by remaining
in their place.  But they did not do so.  Of course, they had a full
view of their enemies as they advanced; and before the hunters had got
half-way down, the nimble game set off round the bottom of the hill,
flitting from rock to rock like a brace of birds.

What seemed odd in their mode of progressing was, that instead of
running along the open spaces between the fragments of rock, they chose
the rocks themselves for their path, and of these also the most
prominent ones; so that their flight was a succession of bounds, some of
them of enormous length!  Many of the boulders, on which they rested a
moment, and from which they sprang again, were so narrow at the top,
that the little creatures hardly obtained room for their feet; and, with
their four hoofs touching each other, they would spring off as though
moved, not by muscular power, but under the influence of some elastic
force!

At first the hunters believed their task to be an easy one.  The
mountain surface was of so limited an extent, they would soon surround
the game, or force it out upon the plain.  The first attempt to do so,
however, had ended in a failure.  The klipspringers had escaped without
difficulty to the other side, and were now farther off than ever!

The hunters called up the dogs, recrossed the summit, and once more set
their eyes upon the game, perched as before upon prominent points.

A second time the party advanced, spreading as they went down, and
holding their guns in readiness; but long before they were within range,
the klipspringers took to flight again; and, just as they had done
before, passed around the base to the other side of the mountain.  Of
course, the dogs, scrambling clumsily among the rocks, were, no match
for such game as they; and even had the klipspringers been near enough
for the guns, the most accomplished riflemen could not have "sighted"
them, so quick were their motions.  The only chance of the yagers lay in
their shot-guns, and to have hit them, even with these, would have been
a feat equal to the bringing down a snipe or woodcock.

Once more the boys attempted to drive them into the open plain; but with
the same result as before.  Although the hunters had spread themselves
across the mountain, the nimble game dashed past them, and escaped to
the other side.

Groot Willem now proposed a new plan.  That was for all to descend the
mountain to its base, and there make a complete surround of it.  Then
each to march straight up, and, by hemming the game on all sides, _force
them to the summit_.

"In this way," added Groot Willem, "we'll at least have a crack at them;
for if they try to get back through our line, they must pass near some
of us."

Groot Willem's suggestion was adopted.  The yagers now descended to the
base of the mountain; and, separating, spread around it at equal
distances from one another.  The buck-dogs were also distributed; one
going with each hunter, except Klaas, who had no dog to accompany him.
Since the affair with the blauw-bok, there had been only five in the
pack.

Thus placed, the boys recommenced the ascent.  They proceeded with
proper caution, keeping each other in view, and shouting from time to
time words of instruction as to the position of the game.  These were
seen bounding before them, from rock to rock--now crossing the mountain
to the opposite side, with the intention of escaping in that way--now
zigzagging along the sides, or bounding upward toward the summit.

When the hunters had advanced about half-way up, the klipspringers
became frightened in earnest.  They saw that they were encompassed on
every side; and sprang to and fro like a pair of grasshoppers.

At length they seemed determined to run the gauntlet through the circle
of hunters, and made a bold dash in the direction of Hans.  The
naturalist, although not professing to be much of a hunter, was a
capital shot; and, raising his double-barrel, he fired.

The doe fell to the crack; and the buck, suddenly turning as on a pivot,
once more bounded up the slope.  The dogs had already gained a distance
ahead of their masters, and now advanced upon the buck from all sides.
There seemed no chance left him of avoiding their onset.

He had mounted a boulder near the base of the tower-rock; and the five
were rushing upon him with open jaws, and shining teeth, when, all at
once, as if impelled by a spring, he shot upward to a narrow ledge of
the vertical rock, far beyond their reach.  The ledge was scarcely wide
enough to have given footing to a weasel, and yet the klipspringer
seemed to feel quite secure upon it.  But he did not rest there.  The
shouts of the hunters, as they hurried up the mountain, impelled him
farther; and springing to a still higher ledge, and to another still
higher, he stood at length upon the pinnacle of the rock!

A shout of surprise broke from the hunters as they witnessed this
wonderful feat.  And a singular spectacle it was.  As already stated,
the tower-rock ended in a point scarce four inches in diameter; and upon
this stood the klipspringer, his hoofs pressed closely together, his
neck drawn in, his body gathered into a ball, with the stiff wiry hair
radiating on all sides outward, like the spines of a hedgehog--a curious
object to look upon!

Although the hunters were now within shot, so odd did the creature
appear thus placed that not one of them thought of drawing trigger upon
it.  They knew that they had the buck in their power--the dogs were all
around him--and at such a height, full thirty feet from the ground, it
could not escape.  All therefore held their fire, and ran forward to the
bottom of the tower.

They had made a sad mistake about the powers of that klipspringer.  As
they were congratulating themselves on having trapped the buck in so odd
a manner, he was seen to shoot out into the air, and, with a whizzing
noise like that made by some great bird, he passed close to their ears,
and lit upon the boulder from which he had bounded up!  Scarce an
instant did he rest there, but sprang to another, and another, and in a
few seconds was far down the side of the mountain!

So sudden had been this movement on the part of the game, and so
unexpected, that both dogs and hunters were taken by surprise, and not a
shot was fired until the klipspringer was beyond reach!  Just at that
moment, as they stood watching his retreat, a puff of smoke was noticed
far down the mountain--a gun cracked at the same instant--and the buck
was seen to tumble headlong from a rock!

With fresh surprise the hunters turned to one another.  "Who?" exclaimed
all simultaneously.  Ha! there were only five of them.  One was missing!

"It's Klaas!"

It was Klaas beyond a doubt--Klaas who had killed the klipspringer.

Klaas had given an illustration that the "race is not always to the
swift."  He was rather a heavy boy, was Klaas; and feeling fatigued at
so much climbing, had seated himself on a stone, and was taking a bit of
a rest, when he observed the klipspringer, standing upon a rock right
before his face.  Having his light fowling-piece loaded with buckshot,
he had taken aim, and dropped the buck from his perch.

Jan was not a little jealous, and insinuated that it was a bit of "luck"
not very well deserved; but whether it was luck or not, Klaas had
certainly killed the klipspringer, and was not a little elated at his
performance.

Having collected the game, the young yagers proceeded to where they had
left their horses; and, mounting, galloped off after the wagons that
were moving slowly across the distant plain.



CHAPTER THIRTY EIGHT.

BOLD BIRDS.

On the third day after entering the plains of the "zuur-veldt," the
yagers treked to the banks of a large river, and followed its course
up-stream.  The scenery was altogether new and of a different character
to that of the plains.  The river was fringed with reeds and willows,
and beyond these stretched a wide bottom land of meadow-like character,
studded with groves and copses of green trees whose foliage was grateful
to the eye after the journey over the dry plains.  Here the deceitful
mirage no longer tantalised them with prospects of verdant groves and
smooth limpid lakes.  Both existed in reality; and a succession of
lovely landscapes met the eyes of the travellers as they advanced.

The grass upon the banks of this river was excellent, and in order that
their cattle should have the opportunity of a good feed, the party
formed camp at an early hour.  They outspanned in a little meadow,
directly by the edge of the water, and made a fire out of the stems of
the willows that grew near.

Jan and Klaas noticed a large flock of birds hovering above the water,
and swooping about, something in the same manner as swallows on a summer
evening over the surface of an English lake.

They were birds of a moderate size, scarcely so big as a common pigeon--
nor was there any thing in their colour to make them attractive.  They
were rather a dull-coloured set of birds for Africa, being
reddish-brown, with a mixture of white and grey; but had they been near
enough for the boys to have observed their feet and legs, these with the
"cire" around their eyes, would have appeared of a beautiful
orange-yellow colour.

There was one peculiarity about these birds, which could be observed at
a great distance, and that was their "forked" tails.  In this respect
they might also be said to resemble swallows, but the forking was far
less acute than in the tails of the latter.  There was enough of it to
give the birds a character; and that, with their general form and the
colour of their plumage, made it easy enough to tell to what genus the
birds belonged.  They were birds of the genus _Falco_, (hawks,)
belonging to that section of it distinguished as _Milvus_, (the kites.)

Of the kites there are several species, but the particular one to which
these before the eyes of Klaas and Jan belonged, was the "parasite
kite," (_Milvus ater_), an inhabitant of all parts of the continent of
Africa, and a bird somewhat smaller than the royal kite of Europe.

Both these bird-boys knew that the birds were hawks of some kind, but
they could not tell what sort.  When Hans told them that they were
"kites," they both became doubly interested; and, guns in hand, stood
near the water's edge watching the manoeuvres of the long-winged
fork-tailed creatures.

To a superficial observer it might have appeared that these kites were
merely playing themselves; now poised and hovering in the air, now
floating softly along, and at intervals shooting down until they
"dipped" themselves in the water of the stream.  Any one, however, who
had closely watched them for a time would soon have perceived, that they
were not going through these manoeuvres for simple amusement.  Each time
that one of them made a plunge into the water, it might be observed that
in rising again, it carried a shining object in its talons, which object
was neither more nor less than a tiny little fish.  Fishing, then, was
what the "parasites" were after; and not for amusement, as anglers do,
but following it as a regular calling--in fact, following it for food.

Not that fish forms the only food of this species of lute.  No; it will
eat almost any thing,--little quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, and even
carrion, upon a pinch.  It is, however, very fond of fish; and, when it
chances to reside in a country of waters, where fish are plenteous and
easily procured, it follows the calling of a fisher pretty regularly.

Klaas and Jan stood for some time expecting to get a shot; but as none
of the birds came near enough, they at length gave up all hope, and laid
aside their guns.

Shortly after, dinner was ready, and all the boys sat down upon the
wagon-chests, and commenced eating.  Their dinner that day consisted of
a very nice dish--that is, the flesh of the great South African bustard
(_Otis tarda_) or wild peacock, (wilde pauw,) as they themselves termed
the bird.  Groot Willem had that morning shot this fine game, at very
long range, with his "roer;" and but for the far "carry" of his gun they
would not have procured the bird--for the wild peacock is one of the
shyest kinds of game-birds, and scarcely ever rests within shooting
distance of any cover by which it may be approached.  Large as it is, it
is esteemed the most delicate eating of South African birds, and almost
equal to the wild turkey of America.

Now the young yagers had roasted this precious _morceau_, had carved it,
and each was sitting with a piece in hand--one with a wing, another
having the "drumstick," a third the "merrythought," a fourth the "pope's
nose," and so on.  Of course they were in a high state of enjoyment over
such "titbits."

While engaged in this pleasant way, they were astonished to see the
whole flock of kites come suddenly swooping over the camp.  Klaas and
Jan were the more astonished, since they had been for some half-hour
vainly endeavouring to get within shot of these very birds.  _Now_ there
would have been no difficulty about that, for the parasites not only
came within shooting distance, but, actually and literally, flew _in the
very faces_ of the boys!  Yes; they would swoop right up until within a
few feet of the diners, then poise themselves upon their wings, spread
out their tails, turn over on their backs, and execute sundry other
eccentric manoeuvres that put the six yagers into fits of laughter.  Of
course Swartboy joined in the chorus, and even the grave Kaffir grinned
at the ludicrous spectacle.

But it did not end here.  After a while the birds grew bolder and
bolder; at each swoop they came nearer; until at length several of them
actually snatched pieces of the bustard's flesh out of the very hands of
those that were eating it!  Verily did they illustrate the old adage of
"many a slip between cup and lip."

Even the dogs were made victims of these bold little robbers, who
swooped forward to their very muzzles, and snatched at the bones they
were crunching.

This curious scene continued for some time.  It would have ended sooner,
had the business been in the hands of Klaas and Jan.  Both these boys,
at the first approach of the birds, had started up to get their guns,
but they were withheld from using them by the others, and especially by
Hans--who was desirous of observing these curious little hawks with the
eye of a naturalist.

After a while the bird-boys were allowed to "blaze away;" and, what is
still more singular, their repeated shots did not completely frighten
off the parasites, though several were killed!  Even some that must have
been wounded--since the feathers had been knocked out of them--returned
again and again to hover above the camp, with eyes fixed eagerly upon
the scraps of meat that had been left lying upon the chests!

A little incident was yet to occur of a still more ludicrous character.

Hans had that day shot a pigeon of very beautiful plumage, which is
peculiar to the interior of South Africa, and whose wings and body are
of a deep green colour.  This species is somewhat rare, and Hans was
desirous of preserving the skin and having it mounted.  After dinner,
therefore, he had skinned it; and having thrown its flesh to the dogs,
he was still at work upon the skin, taking out the brains.

Klaas and Jan, satiated with sport, had desisted, and laid aside their
guns--the consequence of which was that the parasites had returned in
great numbers, and now exhibited as much effrontery as ever.

All at once, one of them seeing Hans engaged with the pigeon, and
thinking no doubt that the body of the bird was still in its skin, made
a sudden dash, drove its claw through the feathery mass, and carried off
the skin in triumph!  Hans, whose eyes had been closely bent upon his
work, saw nothing of the approach of the little winged robber; and for
some moments believed that one of the boys, out of a "lark," had
snatched the pigeon from his fingers.  It was not until he looked
around, and then up into the air, that he was aware of the real culprit;
and although all rushed to their guns, the pigeon-skin could not be
recovered--as the kite, on seizing it, rose high into the air, and then
carried it off to the other side of the river!

As not a bit of flesh remained in the skin, and as Hans had succeeded in
extracting even the brains, no doubt the parasite soon discovered that
his _pigeon_ was no better than a "decoy!"



CHAPTER THIRTY NINE.

THE WATERBUCK.

The bank upon which the yagers had encamped was about five or six feet
above the surface of the water, as it now stood.  The bank on the
opposite side also rose above the water level; but on both sides there
was a break or declivity that sloped down into the channel.  These
breaks corresponded with each other.  They were not natural gorges, but
had evidently been made by heavy animals, such as rhinoceroses and
others, that were in the habit of coming either to drink or ford the
river at this point.  The tracks of many kinds of animals could be
distinguished leading down to the water or up into the meadow--so that
the place was evidently a "drift," or crossing-place for the wild beasts
of the country around.

Perhaps at night many would cross here, and Hendrik and Groot Willem had
resolved to watch that night and have a little moonlight sport.  A
moon--and a very fine moon--was expected; for the queen of the heavens
was nearly in the full at the time, and the sky all that day had been
without a cloud.

But they were destined to enjoy a little sport before the moon arose--
even before the sun had gone down.

While engaged around the wagons, their attention was attracted by a
movement among the reeds on the opposite side of the river.  There was
also an open space on that side corresponding to the meadow in which
they were encamped.  Around the opening grew a thick brake of tall
reeds, interspersed with willows and other low trees.  It was among
these reeds that the movement was observed.

Presently a large animal came out of the covert, and stepped boldly
forward into the open ground, where the short sward enabled them to see
it from horn to hoof--for it was a creature with hoofs and horns--
without doubt an antelope.

It was a species, however, which none of the party had ever seen
before--an antelope of majestic form and elegant proportions.

It stood nearly five feet in height by full nine in length, and its
general colour was a greyish sepia brown.  Its face, however, was of a
deeper brown around the bases of the horns and over the frontlet tinged
with rufous.  The lips and muzzle were white; a white patch marked the
throat; a white streak was before each of the eyes; and a curious oval
band of white encircled the tail.  The hair over all the body was harsh,
more resembling split whalebone than hair; but that which covered the
neck was longer than the rest, and stood out all around like a mane on
end.  The horns were nearly three feet in length, and curved first
upwards and then slightly inwards.  They were closely ringed to within
six inches of their tips, and of a whitish green colour.  The tail of
the animal was about eighteen inches in length with a tuft at its tip.

The shape and set of the horns, the rigid hair that grew all around the
throat and neck, and the elegant upright bearing of this antelope,
enabled the naturalist Hans to tell his companions to what species it
belonged.  It was the famed "waterbuck," (_Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus_).

I have said "famed" antelope, because the waterbuck is in reality one of
the finest and most famous animals of the whole tribe.

Its name would seem to imply that it was a dweller in the water.  Such,
however, is not the case.  It is called waterbuck because it is never
found far from the banks of a river or other water, in which it delights
to plunge, and bathe itself during the hot sunshiny hours of the day.
Of course it is an excellent swimmer, and, indeed, such confidence has
it in its powers of swimming, that when hunted or pursued by whatever
enemy, it makes directly for the river and plunges in, no matter what
depth may be the water.  It is the habit of many species of deer to make
for water when hunted, but with them the object is to throw the hounds
off the scent, and having once crossed a river, they continue on through
the woods.  Now the waterbuck does not leave the river for any great
distance.  It either swims downstream, or, having gone out on the
opposite bank, returns to it, after making a short detour through the
woods.  It seems to regard the water as its haven of safety, and when
overtaken usually stands at bay in the very middle of the stream.

It loves to dwell along rivers where there are marshy banks covered with
tall sedge and reeds; and at certain seasons of the year, when these are
partially inundated, the waterbuck is rarely seen--as it then makes its
haunt in the very heart of morasses which are impenetrable to the
hunter.  Its long spreading hoofs enable it to pass with safety over
marshy grounds, where other species of antelopes would be "mired" and
destroyed.

The waterbuck has been classed by naturalists with antelopes of the
_aigocerine_, or goat-horned group; but it differs greatly, both in
horns and habits, from any of these, and deserves to be ranked as an
antelope _sui generis_.  If it were established as a separate genus, it
would not stand alone, since another "waterbuck"--evidently a second
species--has been discovered by late explorers a little farther to the
north, upon the shores of the Lake Ngami.  The latter is termed by the
natives the "leche," and in the shape of its horns, and most of its
habits, it bears a decided generic resemblance to the _Aigocerus
ellipsiprymnus_.

Still a third species of waterbuck has turned up during the recent
explorations to the afore-mentioned lake; but this, though in habit very
similar to the others, differs widely in regard to its physical
characteristics.  Its horns are of the spiral form, greatly resembling
those of the koodoo, (_Strepsiceros koodoo_), and naturalists are
disposed to class it in the genus _Tragelaphus_.  Its name among the
natives is "nakong."

The reason why none of our young hunters were _personally_ acquainted
with the waterbuck was, that none of them had ever seen it before; and
the reason why none of them had seen it was, because it is not found in
any part of the country through which they had hitherto travelled.  It
is altogether a tropical or sub-tropical species, loves a warm climate,
and does not range so far south as the Cape settlements.  It is possible
that there may be other species by the rivers that run through the
unknown interior of Africa; for between that southern territory, which
has been yet explored, and the Great Saara, there lie many strange
countries, and many strange creatures, of which the geographer and the
naturalist yet know nothing.

So, my boy reader, if you should be desirous at any period of your life
to achieve the reputation of a Bruce, a Park, a Denham, a Clapperton, or
a Lander, you need not fear the want of an opportunity.  There is still
enough of "unexplored Africa" to employ adventurous spirits for perhaps
a century to come.  At all events the ardent naturalist will find plenty
of new ground up to the new year's day of 2000!  That I can safely
guarantee.

The Young Yagers--by Captain Mayne Reid



CHAPTER FORTY.

THE RAVENOUS REPTILE.

All eyes were fixed upon the beautiful animal as it approached the
river.  With light majestic step it advanced to the bank, and without
pausing walked down the slope.  It had no fear of the water, and stepped
into it without hesitation.

The boys were in hopes that it intended to cross the river.  On the
opposite bank it was too distant for the a carry of their guns--even the
elephant roer could not have sent a bullet to that side with any chance
of hitting.  Should the antelope cross, however, the case would be
different.  It might then come within range of their pieces; and, to
make sure, Hendrik and Groot Willem had stolen under the cover of the
reeds, and advanced nearer the crossing-place.

They were doomed to disappointment, however.  The waterbuck had no
intention of crossing.  It had come to drink; and having waded in
knee-deep, it stopped, and dipped its muzzle into the water for that
purpose.

With disappointed looks the boys remained gazing upon it as it drank.

Now it chanced that close to the spot where the buck had entered the
water there was a black log.  It lay along the water in a direction
parallel to the bank, and seemed to be floating--though only a small
portion of it appeared above the surface.  Saturated with the water, as
it must have been, its weight perhaps had thus partially immersed it.
The boys had given no heed to this log.  It was the half-decayed trunk
of some tree--perhaps the black-barked acacia--that had been carried
downstream during flood-time, and had made a lodgment in the little bay,
where the path entered the water.  Of course to such an ordinary
circumstance the boys gave no heed.  Neither did the waterbuck.  Ah!
false security!  Better for the antelope had it heeded that log!  Better
for it had it "looked before leaping," and carefully scrutinised that
black-barked thing--for black though it was, it was not the log of any
acacia.  _That log was alive_!

To the astonishment of all the boys, and no doubt to the far greater
astonishment of the waterbuck, the dark object suddenly became endowed
with motive power, and was seen to dart forward with the velocity of an
arrow towards the spot where the animal was drinking.  It was no longer
a log, but a hideous reptile--a crocodile of gigantic dimensions!

The boys expected to see the waterbuck rear back, and attempt to escape.
No doubt so it would have done, had the crocodile missed its aim, but
the latter had not missed.  On the contrary, it had seized the muzzle of
the antelope in its long gaunt jaws, and was proceeding to drag its
victim under the water.

There was a struggle not of long duration, but it was terrible while it
lasted.  The buck pranced, and plunged and spread his legs, and
endeavoured to shake off his reptile assailant.  Several times he was
brought to his knees; but being a powerful animal he recovered his legs
again, and once nearly succeeded in drawing the crocodile out upon the
bank.  All the while, too, he kept striking forward with his sharp
fore-hoofs; but desperate as were the hits he made, they produced no
impression upon the harsh scaly coat of his amphibious antagonist.  Had
the latter held him by any other part, he might have had some chance of
escape; but seized as he had been by the very tip of his snout, his head
was all the time kept close down to the water, and the awkward position
rendered it impossible for him to make use of his horns--his principal
weapons of defence.

The crocodile was by no means one of the largest of his kind--else the
struggle would have ended sooner.  A very large one--that is, one of
sixteen to twenty feet in length--can drag a buffalo bull under water,
and a buffalo bull possesses four times the strength of a waterbuck.
The one now seen was not over ten feet long; and the strong waterbuck
might have been a full match for it, had it not been for the unfair hold
which it had taken.  In that, however, lay the advantage of the reptile,
and it seemed to be aware of it, for from the first moment it never
relaxed the "clutch" it had taken, but held on with its terrible teeth
and strong jaws, closed like a clamp on the snout of its victim!

Now the crocodile was raised some feet out of the river, and the boys
could see its ugly breast, and spread hand-like claws; now using its
powerful tail as a fulcrum it would strike against the water, and then
the head of the buck would be plunged below the surface, and held down
for minutes at a time.  Of course during all this while the water was
kept in commotion; and, what with the struggles of the quadruped and the
lashing of the reptile's tail, a constant spray of froth and bubbles
marked the scene of the strife.

The conflict at length came to an end.  The water-tyrant triumphed.  The
buck was dragged into the river beyond his depth; and although few
quadrupeds could swim as well as he, once off his legs he was no longer
a match for the amphibious saurian.  His head and horns both disappeared
beneath the surface--now and then the tail of the crocodile flapped
upward, as it exerted itself to keep its victim under--and then both
reptile and quadruped sank to the bottom of the river, and were seen no
more!

For some time the hunters remained watching the surface of the water.
They saw the frothy bubbles floating over the spot--some of them reddish
with the blood of the waterbuck--but the current soon carried them away,
and the river glided past smooth and silent as if no such commotion had
occurred in its waters.

The hunters all returned to the wagons, and a conversation now occurred
about crocodiles, in which Congo took part.

The Kaffir had hunted upon the great river Limpopo, which lay to the
northeast of their present camp.  He alleged that there crocodiles were
very numerous, and some were seen of enormous dimensions, attaining to
thirty feet in length, with bodies as thick as a rhinoceros; that such
scenes, as that they had just witnessed, were of no uncommon occurrence
there.  He said that the larger crocodiles frequently attacked
buffaloes, precisely as this one had done the waterbuck--that they lie
in wait by the watering-places of these animals, and seizing them by the
muzzle when they are drinking, drag them under water, and thus suffocate
them.

But Congo related a still more curious habit of the crocodiles.  He
asserted that they never devour their prey until it becomes quite
decomposed--that is, until it attains the condition of carrion.  He
stated that when a crocodile has killed a buffalo or any large animal,
it always drags the carcass back to the shore, and, leaving it exposed
to the action of the sun's rays, watches near it until the flesh has
become _tainted to its taste_!  The young yagers had heard of this
before; but were not inclined to believe it, though Congo now assured
them of its truth--alleging that this habit of the crocodile was well
known among the native hunters of the Limpopo.

Notwithstanding the sneers of many naturalists, the simple savage was
right, as the young yagers themselves were soon enabled to prove.

I have said that when the crocodile and his victim disappeared below the
surface, they were seen no more.  That, however, was not strictly true.
Both of them were seen again, and in a very short while after--more than
seen, indeed; for the crocodile was killed by a bullet from Groot
Willem's roer; and upon venison steaks, cut from the buttocks of the
waterbuck, both Congo and Swartboy--as well as the buck-dogs--made them
a hearty supper.

It was thus the thing came about.  Hans had entered into a dissertation
about crocodiles in general.  He was informing his companions of the
number of new species of these creatures that had been lately
discovered, and pointing out the great progress of natural science
during the present half century; how the crocodiles were divided by
modern naturalists into many genera, and that, including the caimans and
alligators of America, and the gavials of Asia, the whole crocodile
family could not number less than two dozen living species, although but
a few years ago it was supposed there were but three kinds in existence;
how America possessed true crocodiles as well as alligators; how the
number of species in America was greater than that of Africa and Asia
taken together; how there were none of these great reptiles found either
in Europe or Australasia; and, among other things, Hans was pointing out
the difficulty which existed in determining both the genera and species
of all the _Crocodilidae_.

While the yagers were listening to these details, the Kaffir, who had
been squatted with his eyes bent upon the river, suddenly started from
his crouching attitude, and pointed down to the bank, toward a small
brake of reeds that grew out of the water.

All eyes were turned in that direction, and it was perceived that some
of the reeds were shaking about, as if a large creature was moving among
them.  The reeds were nodding about and bending downward in bunches, and
breaking as if under some heavy pressure, and crackling as they broke.
What could be causing such a commotion amongst them?  It did not appear
like the natural motion of any wild animal, for these glide about, even
in their undisturbed haunts, in a stealthy and easy manner.  There was
something unusual going on among the reeds.  What could it be?

The young yagers were determined to find out; and for this purpose they
drew near the margin of the reeds.  They did not approach them openly,
but crawled forward under cover of the grass and bushes, observing
perfect silence, so as not to fright away whatever creature was causing
the movement.

Fortunately the reed-culms did not grow so thickly as to obscure the
view; and when near, it was possible to see a large object moving in
their midst.  And a large object _was_ seen--a large dark creature which
was at once recognised as a crocodile.

It might have been another crocodile, and not that which had just
drowned the waterbuck; but the hunters were not left to conjecture on
this point, for, while watching its movements, they now perceived the
carcass of the waterbuck itself, which the huge reptile was dragging up
among the reeds, evidently with the intention of raising it out of the
water!  For this purpose it was using its powerful jaws, as well as its
snout, and strong forearms--now pulling the body along a bit, then
pushing and rolling it over towards the bank.

The boys watched these strange manoeuvres for some moments in silence;
but Groot Willem had brought his gun with him, and choosing a moment
when the huge saurian was resting a little, he aimed for the socket of
its eyeball, and sent the big bullet of his roer crashing through its
skull.

The reptile plunged back into the river, and went to the bottom leaving
the wave tinged with blood.  Presently it rose to the surface,
struggling violently, and evidently in great agony.  Now it raised the
fore-part of its hideous body quite out of the water; then its head went
under, and its long tail was flouted into the air; then up came its head
again, and so on, till at length its struggles ceased, and it sank to
the bottom like a stone.  No doubt it sank to rise no more.

Congo and Swartboy rushed in among the reeds, and drawing out the
waterbuck--somewhat lacerated by the teeth of its destroyer--dragged it
in triumph to the camp.



CHAPTER FORTY ONE.

THE GUINEA-HENS.

Although Swartboy and Congo supped upon the flesh of the waterbuck--
which is far from being a delicate venison--the boys had something
better for supper.  That was roast fowl, and a very dainty kind of it,
quite equal to grouse or partridge.  They all supped upon "guinea-hen."

The guinea-fowl (_Numida meleagris_) is a bird that has been long known,
and is often mentioned in the works of ancient writers under the names
_Meleagris_ and _Gallina Numidica_.  It is unnecessary to give a
description of its appearance, as every one is acquainted with the
beautiful pearly plumage of the bird, from which it has obtained the
name of pearl-hen--among the Germans Perl-Huhn, and among the Spaniards
"Pintado," or spotted hen.  The English name "Guinea-hen" is in allusion
to the country from which it has been chiefly obtained in modern times.
The guinea-fowl is truly a native of Africa--though it is now
domesticated in almost every country in the world, and has become a
common inhabitant of the farm-yard.  In the United States of America,
particularly in the Southern States, where the climate exactly suits it,
the guinea-hen, or "guinea-chicken," as the bird is there called, is a
great favourite, both as a bird for the table and a layer of eggs; and
certainly the flesh of the young pullet is much more delicate and
savoury than that of the common fowl.

In many of the West India islands, the guinea-hen, although introduced
from Africa, has become wild, and in the forests of Jamaica it is hunted
and shot like other game.  In these islands the species propagates very
rapidly; and where the birds become numerous they do great mischief to
the crops of the planters.  On this account they are often hunted, not
to be served up at the table, but for the purpose of exterminating them
as troublesome pests.

Throughout all Africa, its native country, the guinea-fowl exists; but
it is to be remarked that there is more than one species.  The common
guinea-fowl (_Numida meleagris_) is the best known, and in its wild
state differs very little from the domesticated variety.  The latter,
however, frequently varies in colour, and some are seen with very little
of the blue tint upon their feathers and almost without spots.  This,
however, is the usual law of wild birds when produced under
domestication, as ducks, turkeys, geese, and all the other pets of the
farm, fully demonstrate.  Even when left to herself, nature often
"sports" in this way, and we know of no bird or animal of which
"albinos" may not be at some time observed.

In addition to the common guinea-fowl, a second species is well known to
exist in the Southern parts of the African continent.  This is the
"crested guinea-fowl," (_Numida cristata_).  It is not quite so large as
the common kind, and has other differences.  It is of a darker blue
colour, but spotted like its congener, each feather having from four to
six spots upon it.  The quills are yellowish brown, but the edges of the
secondaries are of a pure white, which contrasts prettily with the dark
colouring of the general plumage.

But the most conspicuous difference between the two species is in the
formation of the crown and cheeks.  As is well known, over the bill of
the common guinea-fowl rises a singular warty membrane like a casque,
while two carunculated wattles hang from the lower mandible.  Both these
appendages are wanting in the _Numida cristata_; but in place of the
hard casque, the head of this species is ornamented with a crest of
loose hair-like feathers of a bluish-black, which adds very much to the
elegant appearance of the bird.

The guinea-hens are gregarious and sometimes immense flocks of them are
seen together.  They spend most of their time upon the ground, but they
also take to trees when startled, and roost upon the branches.  Their
food consists of seeds, berries, and soft slugs.

While the boys were discussing what they should have for supper, a flock
of these beautiful crested creatures came chattering across the open
meadow in which was the camp.  Of course the shot-guns were immediately
put in requisition, and several of the party got ready to go after them.

Now it is not so very easy to get a shot at the wild guinea-hens.  They
are no great flyers, and do not take to the wing when pursued, unless
when close pressed by a dog or some other swift animal.  But a man on
foot is no match for them, as they run very swiftly where the ground is
even.  They are shy, moreover; and it is not without difficulty that a
shot can be had.  There is one way, however, of approaching them
successfully.  A dog should be set after them, precisely in the same
manner as though they were rabbits, hares, or any other small
quadrupeds.  The dog of course being swift enough to overtake them, soon
comes up, and the guinea-fowls are then forced to take wing.  But, as
they are greatly disinclined to a long flight, they soon settle down
again, or, what is more likely, perch upon the branches of the nearest
tree.  The dog then runs up to the tree; and, if well-trained, will
commence barking, and continue so till the sportsman approaches within
shot.  The birds upon the tree have no fear of the dog below--knowing
very well that he cannot climb up to them--but, while their attention is
occupied with him, they pay no heed to their more dangerous enemy the
gunner, who can then easily approach within range, and take aim at his
leisure.

Now this mode of hunting the guinea-fowl was well known to the young
yagers; and as one of their dogs had been trained to it, they took him
along, and commenced the pursuit with every confidence that they would
eat roast fowl for supper.

They were not disappointed.  The birds were soon after sprung, and then
treed; and the barking of the dog conducted the gunners to the spot
where the game had taken roost, among the branches of some
"cameel-doorn" trees near the bank of the river.  Several shots were
obtained; and three brace and a half were brought into camp--enough to
serve not only for supper, but also for breakfast on the following
morning.

It seemed to be quite a place for birds; for while there, many other
species were observed by the young hunters.  A great many curious plants
grew in the neighbourhood, the seeds of which served many kinds for
food; besides, from the proximity of the river many flies and other
insects were produced, the prey of numerous shrikes and other birds of
the family of _Muscicapidae_.

Hans pointed out a very singular bird that was flying about the meadow,
and was every now and then uttering a note that sounded like the word
"edolio."  From this note the bird derives its name, just as in England
the "cuckoo" is named from its peculiar call, and in France "coucou."

Now the _edolio_ of South Africa is also a cuckoo; and although
differing from our cuckoo in some respects, it has a great resemblance
to it in others.  It has the same parasite peculiarity of depositing its
eggs in the nests of other birds, and leaving them to be hatched there;
and its other habits are very similar to those of the common cuckoo.

But there are some very curious points in the history of the "edolio,"
which it does not share with its European congener.  Among the boors of
South Africa it is known as the "New year's day bird," (Niuwe jaars
vogel,) and these simple people ascribe to it some wonderful
characteristics.  They say that it appears only at the beginning of the
year--whence the name "new year's day bird"--and that whenever it is
hungry it commences to cry out, and then all the little birds in the
immediate neighbourhood fly towards it, carrying food, which they give
it to eat!

Now all the young yagers, as well as Congo the Kaffir and Swartboy the
Bushman, were well acquainted with this story; and all, with the
exception of Hans, believed it to be true.  Hans, however, knew the
explanation of the marvellous matter, and proceeded to give it to his
companions.

He stated that the bird known among the farmers as the _Niuwe jaars
vogel_, was no other than the young of the "edolio" (_Cuculus
serratus_)--though the farmers would not believe this, because, although
full fledged, it differs a good deal from the parent birds both in size
and colour, and is therefore taken for a distinct kind.  That the
mystery of its appearing always on the first day of the year, was scarce
a fable after all, as it was _about_ that time that young edolios
obtained their full feathers, and commenced flying about.  That the
further statement, of its crying out when hungry, was perfectly true;
but that _all_ the small birds in the neighbourhood were summoned by its
cry, was not correct, although _some_ would be, viz: the step-mother and
father that had brought it into life; and that these having been often
seen in the act of feeding the young edolio had given origin to the
fable.  This was certainly a very good explanation.

Hans further stated that a similar belief existed among the natives of
India, in relation to the large-billed cuckoo, (_Eudynamis orientalis_),
and that the belief had a similar origin.

"The edolio," continued Hans, "like the cuckoo, deposits its eggs in the
nest of many species of small birds; and that it places them there with
its beak, and not in the ordinary way, has been satisfactorily
determined by naturalists."



CHAPTER FORTY TWO.

ROOYEBOK.

As our travellers advanced up-stream, the wide level plains became
narrowed into mere stripes of meadow that lay along both sides of the
river.  On both sides, and not a great distance off, wood-covered
mountains trended parallel to the course of the stream.  Sometimes their
spurs approached very near to the banks--so as to divide the bottom land
into a series of valleys, that rose like terraces one above the other.
Each of these was a separate plain, stretching from the river's bank to
the rocky foot of the mountain.

Nearly every one of them was tenanted with game of one sort or another--
such as had already been met with on the route--but beyond killing
enough to keep their larder supplied with fresh meat, our party did not
make any stay to hunt here.  The guide had informed them, that beyond
the mountain where the river took its rise lay the country of the
elephant, the buffalo, and the giraffe; and in hopes of reaching this
long-expected land, the sight of a herd of springboks, or gnoos, or
blauw-boks, or even elands, had little more interest for the young
yagers than if it had been a drove of tame oxen.

Ascending into one of the upper valleys, however, they came suddenly in
view of a herd of antelopes whose forms and colours distinguished them
from any our hunters had yet met with.  This at once decided them to
halt the wagons, and prepare for a chase.

That the animals seen were antelopes, there could be no mistake.  They
had all the grace and lightness of form peculiar to these creatures;
besides, their horns were conspicuously characteristic.  Their
appearance bespoke them to be true antelopes.

They were large ones too--that is, of medium size--about as large as red
deer; but of course small when compared with such species as the
blauw-bok or the huge eland.  Each would have measured nearly three feet
and a half in height--and even a little more, over the croup--for
although there are some antelopes, such as those of the _acronotine_
group--the "hartebeest," "sassabye," and "bekr-el-wash"--that stand
lower at the croup than the shoulders, the reverse is the case with
other species; and those now before the eyes of our hunters possessed
the latter characteristic.  They stood high at the croup.

None of the yagers had ever seen one of the kind before; and yet, the
moment they came under view, both Hendrik and Groot Willem cried out--

"Rooyebok!"

"How know you that they are rooyebok?" demanded Hans.

"From their colour, of course," replied the others.

The colour of these antelopes was a deep fulvous red over the head,
neck, and upper parts of the body; paler along the sides; and under the
belly pure white.  There were some black marks--such as a stripe of
black down each buttock, and also along the upper part of the tail--but
the general colour of the animals was bright red; hence their being
taken for "rooyebok," or "red-bucks," by Hendrik and Groot Willem.

"The colour is not a good criterion," remarked Hans.  "They might as
well have been `grysbok,' or `steinbok,' or `rooye rheebok,' for the
matter of colour.  I judge by the horns, however, that you are right in
your guess.  They _are_ rooyebok, or, as the Bechuanas call them,
`pallah,' and, as naturalists style them, _Antilope melampus_."

All looked at the horns as Hans spoke, and saw that these were full
twenty inches in length, and somewhat like those of the springbok, but
more irregularly lyrate.  The two nearly met at their tips, whereas at
their middle they were full twelve inches apart.  This was a
characteristic by which they could easily be remembered, and it had
enabled Hans at once to pronounce upon the species.

Strange to say, there was but one pair of full-grown horns in the whole
herd, for there was but one old buck, and the does of the pallah are
hornless.  A "herd" is hardly a proper term; for this species of
antelope cannot be called gregarious.  What our hunters saw before them
was a _family_ of rooyeboks, consisting of the old male, his wives, and
several young bucks and does--in all, only eleven in number.

Our hunters knew, from what they had heard, that the rooyebok is both a
shy and swift antelope--difficult either to be approached or run down.
It would be necessary, therefore, to adopt some plan of proceeding, else
they would not succeed in getting one of them; and they had fixed their
minds most covetously on the large knotted horns of the buck.  They
halted the wagons to await the result of the chase; though the oxen were
not to be outspanned, unless it should prove successful.  If so, they
would camp upon the ground for the night--so as to enable them to dress
the meat, and preserve the "trophies."  With such resolves, they made
ready to hunt the pallah.

Upon first coming in sight of the rooyebok, the hunters were upon the
crest of a high ridge--one of the mountain-spurs, that divided the
valley they had just traversed from that in which the red antelopes were
feeding.  From the eminence they occupied, they commanded a view of this
valley to its farthest border, and could see its whole surface, except a
small strip on the nearer side, which was hidden from them by the brow
of the ridge on which they stood.

Around the sides of the valley there were trees and bushes; though these
did not form a continued grove, but only grew in detached clumps and
patches.  All the central ground, where the pallahs were feeding, was
open, and quite destitute of either bush or cover of any kind.  Between
the bordering groves there was long grass; and, by the aid of this, a
skilled hunter might have crept from one grove to another, without
attracting the attention of the antelopes.

It was decided, therefore, that Hendrik and Groot Willem should steal
round to the other end of the valley, keeping under cover of the
thickets and grass.  Then the pallahs would be between two fires, as
they must either go up or down the valley in trying to escape.  On the
right lay the steep mountain; on the left, the deep rapid river.  They
would not likely attempt to move off on either hand.  So this design to
intercept them was good enough.

The horses were now tied to trees and left on the back of the ridge,
while the hunters moved forward upon the brow that overhung the valley.

They had not advanced far before that part of the valley hitherto unseen
came under their eyes, and there, to their astonishment, another herd of
animals appeared; not of antelopes--although, from their colour, they
might have been mistaken for such.  No--the short round heads, elongated
bodies, thick massive limbs, and long tufted tails, told at a glance,
that it was no herd of peaceful ruminants the hunters were gazing upon,
but an assemblage of dreaded _carnivora_--a troop of lions!



CHAPTER FORTY THREE.

FOUR-FOOTED HUNTERS.

There were twelve lions in the troop--old males, females, and whelps of
different ages!  A terrific spectacle to look upon, in any other way
than through the bars of a cage, or out of a third story window.  But
our young yagers beheld them on an open plain, and at the dangerous
proximity of three hundred yards!

It is needless to say that a sudden stop was put to their advance, and
that every one of the six was more or less alarmed.  Although they knew
that, as a general rule, the lion will not attack man without
provocation, it might be different where such a number were together.
Twelve lions would have made short work of them, one and all.  No wonder
the young hunters trembled at sight of such a troop, and so near; for
the brow of the ridge, running abruptly down to the plain, was all that
lay between them and the dreaded assemblage.  A few bounds would have
brought the lions to the spot on which they stood!

After the first moments of surprise and alarm had passed, the yagers
bethought themselves how to act.  Of course, the pallahs were driven
completely out of their mind, and all ideas of a hunt given up.  To have
descended into that valley, would have been to have encountered twice
their own number of lions: older hunters than they would have shied off
from such an encounter.  They did not think for a moment of going
farther, nor, indeed, of any thing but retreating; and it cannot be said
that they _thought_ of that, for it was the instinct of the moment.

"Back to our horses!" whispered they to one another, the moment they set
their eyes on the lions; and, without staying to contemplate the fearful
group, all six stole back; and, in less than two minutes' time, were
seated in their saddles.

Their presence had not been discovered by the lions.  Two circumstances
had favoured the boys, and prevented this.  The ridge over which they
were passing was covered with underwood, and the "bosch," reaching as
high as their heads, had sheltered them from view.  The other
circumstance in their favour was that the wind was blowing _down_ the
valley, and therefore, _from_ the lions and towards themselves.  Had it
been otherwise, they would have been scented, and of course, discovered.
Still another circumstance--the hunters had been advancing in silence,
on account of the design they had formed of stalking the pallahs.  The
lions, therefore, still remained ignorant of their proximity.  Once on
horseback our party felt secure, and soon got over their little
"flurry."  Each knew that the noble creature that carried him, could
give any lion the heels.  Even the ponies of Klaas and Jan could run
away from the fastest lion in Africa.  Once mounted, all felt that the
danger was over.

The hunters, Hendrik and Groot Willem, were not satisfied to retreat in
this way.  They were resolved on at least, having another "peep" at the
dangerous game; and, therefore, prepared to return to their former point
of observation, of course this time on horseback.  Hans also felt a
similar inclination--from the desire to study a chapter of natural
history--and Arend would go out of curiosity.  It was not deemed safe to
take Klaas or Jan along; so these two youngsters were unceremoniously
sent back to the wagons, that had been halted in the lower valley near
the bottom of the hill.

The other four rode slowly and silently forward, until they came once
more in view of the valley, the herd of pallahs, and the troop of lions.

The antelopes were still feeding quietly near the centre of the open
ground.  The lions were as yet on the ground, where they had been first
observed.  That the pallahs knew nothing of the proximity of their
dangerous neighbours was very evident, else they would not have been
moving so sedately along the sward.  They had no suspicion that an enemy
was near.  The lions were in the lower end of the valley, and therefore
to leeward of them--for the wind was blowing fair downstream, and came
right in the faces of the hunters.  A thicket, moreover, screened the
lions from the eyes of the herd.

It was equally evident that the beasts of prey were well aware of the
presence of the rooyeboks.  Their actions proved this.  At short
intervals one trotted to the edge of the "bosch," in crouching attitude,
looked out to the open plain, and after a moment or two returned to his
companions, just as if he had been sent to "report."  The old males and
the lionesses stood in a thick clump, and seemed to be holding a
consultation!  The boys had not a doubt but that they were doing this
very thing, and that the subject of their deliberation was the rooyebok
herd.

At length the "council" appeared to break up.  The troop separated, each
taking a different direction.  Some went along the bottom of the valley,
while several were seen to proceed towards the mountain foot.

When these last had reached the groves before mentioned, they turned
upwards; and one after another were seen crouching from clump to clump,
crawling along upon their bellies, as they passed through the long
grass, and evidently trying to shelter themselves from the view of the
pallahs.

Their object now became clear.  They were proceeding to the upper end of
the valley, with the design of driving the game upon those that had
remained below--in fact, carrying out the identical plan which the
hunters themselves had projected but the moment before!  The boys
marvelled at this singular coincidence; and as they sat in their saddles
they could not help admiring the skill with which their _rivals_ were
carrying out their own plan.

Those--three there were--that had gone skulking up the edge of the
valley, were soon out of sight--hidden under the "bosch" that grew at
the opposite end, and which they had been seen to enter.  Meanwhile, the
other nine had spread themselves along the bottom of the valley, each
taking station under cover of the bushes and long grass.  The trap was
now fairly set.

For a few minutes no movement was observed on the part either of lions
or pallahs.  The former lay crouched and stealthily watching the herd--
the latter browsed peacefully along the sward, perfectly unconscious of
the plot that was "thickening" around them.

Something at this moment seemed to render them suspicious.  They
appeared to suspect that there was danger threatening.  The buck raised
his head; looked around him; uttered a hiss, somewhat like the whistling
of deer; and struck the ground a smart rap or two with his hoof.  The
others left off browsing, and several of them were seen to bound up into
the air--after the very singular manner of springboks.

No doubt they had scented the lions, now at the upper end of the
valley--as the breeze from that quarter blew directly towards the herd.

It was surely that; for after repeating his signal, the old buck himself
sprang many feet into the air, and then stretched himself in full
flight.  The others of course followed, leaping up at intervals as they
ran.

As the lions had well calculated, the antelopes came directly down the
valley, breast forward, upon their line.  Neither the wind nor any thing
warned them of the dangerous ambuscade; and in a few short moments they
were close to the patches of brushwood.  Then the nine huge cats were
seen to spring out as if moved by one impulse, and launch themselves
into the air.  Each had chosen a rooyebok, and nearly every one
succeeded in bringing his victim to the earth.  A single blow from the
paw of their strong assailants was enough to stretch the poor antelopes
on the plain, and put an end at once to their running and their lives.
So sudden was the attack, and so short-lived the struggle, that in two
seconds from the time the lions made their spring, each might be seen
crouching over a dead pallah, with his paws and teeth buried in its
flesh!

Three alone escaped, and ran back up the valley.  But a new ambush
awaited them there; and as they followed the path, that led through the
thicket at the upper end, each became the prey of a lurking lion.

Not one of the beautiful antelopes, that but the moment before were
bounding over the plain in all the pride and confidence of their speed,
was able to break through the line of deadly enemies so cunningly drawn
around them!

The hunters remained for some minutes gazing upon the singular
spectacle.  Hendrik and Groot Willem would have stolen forward, and sent
a brace of bullets into a brace of lions; but Hans would not hear of
such a thing.  He alleged that there was no time when these animals are
more dangerous to attack, than just after they have killed their game
and are drinking its blood.  At such a moment they are extremely
ferocious, and will follow with implacable vengeance any one who may
disturb them.  It would be more prudent, therefore, not to provoke such
a powerful band, but to retire altogether from the spot.

To these counsels of Hans--backed by Arend--the two hunters at length
reluctantly yielded; and all four rode back to the wagons.

Arriving there, a consultation was held how they were to proceed.  It
would be a dangerous business to trek up the narrow valley guarded by
such a troop.  A ford was therefore sought for, and found at some
distance below; and, having crossed their wagons, the travellers
encamped on the opposite side--as it was too late to move farther that
night.

They had done well to go across the river, for during the whole night
the fierce brutes were heard roaring terrifically upon the side where
they had been observed.  In fact, the place appeared to be a regular
_den of lions_.



CHAPTER FORTY FOUR.

"WIDOW-BIRDS."

They were only too glad to get off out of that neighbourhood, and at an
early hour they inspanned and treked up the banks of the stream.

Just as on the other side, the road led through a succession of valleys,
with groves of trees scattered over their surface; and as they
proceeded, the mountain-spurs more frequently approached the banks, and
at one or two places they found great difficulty in getting the wagons
across the ridges.  One of these was so steep, that for a while the
travellers feared they would not be able to follow the stream any
farther.  The oxen refused to trek up the declivity, and neither whip
nor jambok would force them forward.

But Congo knew of a plan by which they were at length induced to
proceed; and both wagons arrived in safety at the top of the pass--not,
however, until Swartboy had clicked and shouted, and Congo had screamed,
till their throats were sore, and both had worn the voorslays of
springbok skin from their long whips.

Congo's mode of making the oxen move forward was a very simple one; and
consisted in his going ahead of them and smearing the rocks along the
path with the "mest" of the oxen themselves--thus leading the animals to
believe that other oxen had gone before them, and that therefore the
passage must be practicable, since some of their own kind had already
made it!  This mode is often adopted by the trek-boors of Southern
Africa, when they wish to drive up very precipitous places, where the
oxen are afraid to go of themselves.

The valley, which was reached after climbing through this difficult
pass, was one of very small extent--not exceeding a couple of acres; and
as the river had now become diminished to a mountain-stream, it was
fordable at any point throughout the whole length of the little meadow
in which the travellers encamped.  At the head of this valley a ridge
trended across the course of the stream through which the current had
cleft a wide way; and the only road leading out above was along the
channel of the river itself.  Fortunately, this channel was nearly dry,
else they could have gone no farther in that direction.  As it was, the
pebbly bed of the stream could be traversed by wagons, and they would
easily get through to wider plains that stretched beyond.  They had
halted for the night in this little valley, because there was excellent
grass for their cattle; and as wood grew along the sides of the rocky
hills, and clear cool water ran down the stream, they possessed all the
three necessary requisites for a traveller's camp.

It was a curious little place where they had outspanned.  As already
stated, the level ground was not over a couple of acres in extent,
though it was nearly of circular form.  Through the very centre of it
passed the stream, its bed being only a few feet below the general
surface; and all around were the mountains, their precipitous sides
rising like rocky walls to a height of several hundred feet, and
completely enclosing the mountain within their embrace.

There were no trees upon the surface of the meadow itself, but against
the rocks grew many kinds; some of them hanging with their tops
downward, and some stretching horizontally outwards.  A few small shrubs
alone, with some reeds, grew upon the edge of the stream; but these were
low, and would not have concealed a man standing erect.

In the centre of this natural amphitheatre the camp was formed--that is,
the wagons were placed there.  The horses and oxen were not fastened in
any way, as it was supposed they would not care to stray out of the
valley.

There were three good reasons why they should not wander.  First,
because they were wearied with a long day's work, and one that had been
particularly severe.  Secondly, the paths leading out were difficult to
find.  And thirdly, because both the grass and water there were of as
good a quality as either horse or ox could have expected to meet with
elsewhere.  There was no reason, therefore, why any of them should go
beyond the confines of the valley where the camp was situated.

As usual, no sooner were Klaas and Jan fairly out of their saddles than
they went bird's-nesting.  Several kinds of birds had been seen by them
as they entered this secluded valley; and it was likely that some of
their nests would be found at no great distance off.

And some were found.  Upon the shrubs and reeds quite a colony of birds
had made their habitations.  They were small sparrow-looking birds,
having nests of a kidney-shape, hollow in the inside, which was reached
by little circular entrances, something like the nests of the common
wren.  The outside part was constructed of grass; while inside, the
nests were lined with a soft substance resembling wool.  This was the
cottony down obtained from some plant that, no doubt, grew in that
neighbourhood, but which the boys could not see anywhere around.

Now these little birds were already well known to the young yagers.
They had met with them before; and all of them knew they were birds of
the genus _Ploceinae_, or weaver-birds.  They knew, moreover, that there
are not only many species of weaver-birds, but that there are also many
_genera_, or rather _subgenera_, of them, differing from each other in
size, colour, and habits, but all possessing the curious instinct of
building nests of a very ingenious kind--in other words "weaving" them;
from which circumstance they derive their trivial name.  The nests of
all the species differ from each other.  Some are constructed of a
globe-shape; others like a chemist's retort; others of kidney-form; and
still another kind of nest is that of the "social weaver-birds."  These
last unite in large numbers, and fill one great nest, or "hive," which
often fills the whole top of a great acacia, looking like a haystack
built among the branches of the tree.

The little weavers observed by Klaas and Jan were of the genus
_Amadina_--the _Amadina squamifrons_; and both the boys were glad at
encountering some of their nests at that moment.  Not that they were at
all curious to see the eggs, for they had examined them often before.
No: that was not the reason.  There was another and a different one.  It
was this: the inside lining of the nest of the amadina makes excellent
wadding for shot-guns--quite equal to tow, and even better than the
softest paper; and as both Klaas and Jan were out of wadding, they
expected to replenish their stock by robbing the poor amadinas of their
pretty nests.

They would not have done so wantonly, for Hans would not have permitted
them; but, as hunters, they stood in real need of the article, and
therefore they took it without remorse.

Simple as the thing was, they were compelled to unravel the nests before
they could get at the soft material with which they were lined: and this
unravelling was not done without some difficulty, for the outside work
was woven together like the rods in a fine piece of basket-work.  The
entrance which the bird had left for its own passage in and out was so
small, that the boys could not thrust their hands into it; and, what was
singular, this entrance, whenever the bird was absent from the nest, was
so closed up that it was difficult to find it!

Having obtained as much wadding as they required out of a pair of nests,
the boys did not disturb any of the others; but permitting them to hang
where they had found them, returned to the wagons.

They had not been long there before their attention was attracted to
another bird, and one of a rarer and more curious kind than the amadina.
It did not differ much from the latter in point of size, but in the
nature and colour of its plumage--which was most curious indeed.  The
bird which now occupied the attention, not only of Klaas and Jan, but of
all the others, was about the size of a canary-bird; but its long
tail-feathers, several times the length of its body, gave it the
appearance of being much larger than it really was.

Its colour was of a very dark glossy brown, or nearly black, upon the
head and over the upper parts of the body.  Around the neck was a collar
of orange rufous, which grew paler upon the breast, ending in a buff
tinge over the abdomen, lower parts of the body, and thighs.

But it was in the tail-feathers that the peculiarity of this bird
appeared.  Of these, two were immensely long, set vertically, or
"edgeways," and curving far outward and downward.  Two others, much
shorter, also stood out edgeways above the first.  These were broadly
webbed at their bases, being at their widest rail three inches across;
while their tips, for the length of three inches more, were entirely
without any feathery web, and looked like a pair of stiff hairy spines
projecting outward.  Besides these two pairs of vertical feathers, there
were four others on each side of the tail, nicely graduated one above
the other, each being about a quarter of an inch shorter than the one
immediately below it.  All these tail-feathers were black.

But one of these birds was seen by the boys at their camp; but they
noticed that it was accompanied by another bird of a rusty brown and
whitish colour, and with a tail of the ordinary kind.  This companion
was neither more nor less than the female; while the gaudy creature with
the orange colour and long tail-plumes was the male.

Hans's knowledge was now brought into requisition, for the others had
never seen this curious bird, and knew not to what species it belonged.
Hans told them it also was one of the weaver-birds; known among
naturalists by the name _Vidua_; among the French as "La veuve;" and
among the English as "Widow-bird."  All of the party regarded this as a
very singular name for the bird; and at once called upon the naturalist
for an explanation of it.  Fortunately, Hans was able to give them this;
and that was more than the learned Brisson--he who baptised it _Vidua_
and _La veuve_--has been able to do.

"Brisson," said Hans, "has named the little creature `widow-bird,'
because he had heard that it was so called among the Portuguese; and the
French naturalist assigns as a reason that it was so called on account
of its colour and long tail!  Such writers as Monsieur Brisson and
Monsieur Buffon are never at a loss for reasons.  Now it so happens that
neither its colour nor tail had any thing to do with the origin of its
name `widow-bird,' which of itself is quite a misnomer.  The Portuguese,
who first drew attention to this bird, called it `Whidah' bird, from the
fact that it was received by them from the kingdom of Whidah in Western
Africa.  That is the way in which the bird has received its
appellation."

The Whidah-bird, on account of its livery habits, but more from the
singularity of its tail-plumes, is a great favourite as a pet: and is
often seen in cages, where it hops from perch to perch without fear of
constraint, and alternately depresses and elevates its long tail with
great vivacity.  It is usually fed upon grain and several kinds of
herbs, and is exceedingly fond of bathing itself in water.  It moults
twice a year; and during one period the male loses the long plumes which
distinguish him from his mate, and altogether becomes so changed in
colour, that the sexes are not then very easily told apart.  It is only
during the breeding season that the cock Whidah-bird attains his fine
tail, and the orange and black colours of his plumage.

There are two species of Whidah-birds known to naturalists.  The
"Paradise widow-bird" (_Vidua paradisea_) is the one described above;
and another which is called the "Red-billed widow-bird," (_Vidua
erythrorhynca_).  The latter is a smaller species, and differs from the
other in the arrangement of the tail-feathers.  Its bill is of a deep
red colour--whence the trivial name; and its plumage is of a
bluish-black upon the upper parts of the body, with a white collar
around the neck, white wing coverts, and whitish underneath.

Its habits, however, are precisely similar to those of the species
_Paradisea_; and both are found inhabiting the same countries, viz:
Western Africa.  The range of neither reaches as far southward as the
Cape Colony, but one of the species extends to the countries northward
of the great Orange River, and is occasionally, though rarely, seen.

On account of its rarity in these parts, the young yagers, and
particularly the naturalist Hans, were desirous of obtaining its skin;
and for this purpose the shot-guns were levelled, and both the "widows"
were ruthlessly brought down from their perch.



CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.

THE PIQUE-BOEUFS.

Of course Hans, aided by the others, immediately set about skinning the
widow-birds, with an eye to their being preserved.  Arend was his
principal assistant, for Arend was clever with his hands; and was,
moreover, as good a taxidermist as Hans himself.  It never troubled
Arend to know the genus or species of a bird; but give him the bird
itself, and he could strip off its skin and mount it without leaving a
trace of a ruffled feather.

While thus engaged, a noise fell upon the ears of the young yagers that
caused all of them to start--Hans and Arend dropping the skins of the
widow-birds, upon which they had been operating.

The noise which produced this startling effect, was neither more nor
less than the cry of a bird, and but a small bird at that.  The note
very much resembled the well-known call of the mistle-thrush or
screech-cock, (_Turdus viscivorus_).  It was no louder, and the bird
that uttered it was no bigger than this thrush; but for all that, the
note produced a somewhat terrifying effect upon the yager camp.  All of
the party, both yagers and attendants, knew the cry well.  Even the
buck-dogs sprang to their feet, and howled as it reached their ears; and
the whole camp was suddenly in a commotion.

Now, my young reader, you will wonder why the cry of a bird, not bigger
than a blackbird, could create terror in the minds of such courageous
boys as our yagers; and you will naturally desire to know what sort of
bird this was.

I have said the boys all knew it, the attendants and the dogs.  Nay,
more, the horses and oxen recognised that cry; and its effect on them
was not less wonderful; for the moment it was heard, the horses tossed
up their heads, snorted as if in terror, and commenced _stampeding_ over
the ground.  The oxen exhibited similar symptoms of affright.  Yes,
horses, oxen, dogs, Kaffir, Bushman, and yagers, were all affected by
the screech of that bird, as it pealed along the rocks, and echoed
through the glen.  All recognised in it the warning cry of the
_Pique-Boeuf_!

An account of this singular bird will explain the cause of the
consternation which its note had thus suddenly produced.

The "Pique-Boeuf" is about the size of a starling, of a greyish colour
over the body, with short wings, and tail somewhat of a darker hue.  Its
feet are formed for grasping, and its claws are hooked and compressed.
The most remarkable part of the bird is its bill.  This is of a
quadrangular shape, the lower mandible much stronger than the upper one,
and both swelling towards the tip, so as to resemble a forceps or
pincers.  The purpose of this formation will be seen, when we come to
speak of the habits of the bird.

These are, indeed, peculiar; and, by the laws of ornithology, stamp the
Pique-Boeufs as a distinct genus of birds.

A celebrated French ornithologist, and a true _field naturalist_ as
well--Le Vaillant--thus describes the habits of these birds:--

"The bill of the Pique-Boeuf is fashioned as a pair of solid pincers, to
facilitate the raising out of the hides of quadrupeds the larvae of the
gadflies, which are there deposited and nourished.  The species,
therefore, anxiously seek out the herds of oxen, of buffaloes, of
antelopes--of all the quadrupeds, in short, upon which these gadflies
deposit their eggs.  It is while steadied, by a strong gripe of the
claws in the tough and hairy hide of these animals, that, with strong
blows of the bill and powerful squeezes of the skin, at the place where
the bird perceives an elevation, which indicates the presence of a
maggot, he extracts it with effect.  The animals, accustomed to the
treatment, bear with the birds complacently, and apparently perceive the
service which they render them, in freeing them from these true
parasites, which live at the expense of their proper substance."

Now, there are many species of birds, as well as the Pique-Boeufs, that
lead a very similar life, living principally upon the parasite insects
that infest the bodies of the larger quadrupeds, both wild and tame.  In
America, the "cow-bunting" (_Icterus pecoris_) is so termed from its
habit of feeding upon the parasite insects of cattle; and among other
animals it is a constant attendant upon the immense herds of buffaloes
that roam over the great American prairies.  Other species of icterus
also frequent the vast cattle-herds of the South American plains.

The red-billed weaver-bird (_Textor erythrorhynchus_) is equally the
companion of the African buffalo; and any one who has visited an
extensive sheep-pasture cannot fail to have observed the common starling
perched upon the woolly backs of the sheep.  The white-necked crow
(_Corvus albicollis_) is noted for similar practices, as well as several
other species of _Corvidae_ and _Sturnidae_.  All of these kinds,
however--the white-necked crow excepted--content themselves with only
taking away the parasites, which are attached to the skins of the
animals, or such as live among the hair and wool--none of the aforesaid
birds having in their bills the necessary strength for extracting the
maggots which are lodged beneath.  Now, with the Pique-Boeufs, there is
no difficulty about this.  Their peculiar beaks enable them to penetrate
the toughest hides of the large quadrupeds; and although they also feed
upon the ticks and other parasites that rest upon the surface, they
prefer the larvae that lie beneath.  Hence, these birds are entitled to
be regarded as distinct from any of the others; and naturalists have
formed them into a separate genus--the genus _Buphaga_, or
"beef-eaters."

It is scarcely necessary to point out the absurdity of this name, which
seems to have been given from a misapprehension of the habits of the
birds.  The Pique-Boeuf is no beef-eater, but a "beef-picker," if you
will, as the French phrase very properly expresses it.  But M. Brisson,
who gave the name, seems very much to have resembled his more celebrated
countryman--the great _closet naturalist_, Buffon--in ascribing such
habit to birds and animals as suited his fancy.

_Buphaga_ is the name given, and so let it stand.

Only two species have been yet observed.  One is the _Buphaga
erythrorhyncha_, or red-billed beef-eater--so called from the colour of
its beak, which is a beautiful coral-red--while the more common species
already described has a yellow beak.  The latter is the _Buphaga
Africana_.  Both species are birds of Africa--the "coral bill" (_Bec
corail_) being also a native of the island of Madagascar.  The "coral
bill" is smaller than the _Buphaga Africana_, and somewhat different
from it in colour.  The tint of its plumage is more sombre.  The upper
parts, head and throat, are of an ash-brown, glazed, as it were, with
bluish; and beneath, the bird is of a yellowish rust colour.  Its bill,
also, is smaller and less powerful than that of its congener.

The Pique-Boeufs are generally seen in company; but they never fly in
large flocks.  Six or eight of them may usually be observed together.
They are very wild shy birds, and it is difficult to approach within
shooting distance of them.

The only chance of getting near enough is to approach behind the body of
an ox, or some other animal--using the latter as a stalking-horse, and
driving it gently towards those beasts on whose back the birds may be
perched.  The gunner, by then showing himself suddenly, may obtain a
shot at them on the wing.

Such are the habits of the Pique-Boeufs.  But all this does not explain
why it was that the screech of one of these birds had thrown the camp of
the young yagers into such a state of excitement or alarm.  The reason
remains to be told.  It was this:--

Of all the quadrupeds to which the Pique-Boeufs attach themselves, there
are none upon which they are such constant attendants as the rhinoceros.
This animal is the victim of many parasitical insects--of ticks and
larvae.  His huge body and corrugated skin, of such vast extent, offer
an ample field for such creatures, and consequently afford a supply of
food to the Pique-Boeuf, which is unfailing.

The rhinoceroses, therefore, of all the four species that inhabit South
Africa, are always attended by the beef-eaters, which, on this account,
are known among hunters as "rhinoceros-birds."  Go where the rhinoceros
will, the Pique-Boeufs follow him, perching upon his back, his head, or
any other part of his body, and remaining there quite unconcernedly, as
if they regarded that situation as their natural roosting-place and
home.  The rhinoceros himself never dreams of molesting them.  On the
contrary, he finds their presence extremely useful to him.  Not only do
they give him ease, by destroying the insects that would otherwise annoy
him, but in another sense they do him an essential service.  They warn
him of the approach of the hunter, or any other danger.  The moment such
appears, the rhinoceros, who himself may have been asleep, is instantly
aroused by the harsh screeching of the birds, and put upon his guard.
Should their voices fail to awake him, these cunning sentinels will
flutter around his head, and peck into his ears until they succeed in
giving the alarm.  With elephants and hippopotami they act in a similar
manner; so that one of the difficulties to be encountered by the hunter
in pursuit of these animals, is the vigilance of the little winged
sentinel that thus keeps watch over their sleep!

It was this curious habit, then--well known to every creature in the
camp--that caused all hands to start up on hearing the screech of the
Pique-Boeuf.  The presence of the bird announced the proximity of the
dangerous "rhinoster."



CHAPTER FORTY SIX.

CHARGED BY "MUCHOCHOS."

All eyes were instantly turned in the direction whence came the "skreek"
of the bird, and there, sure enough, were a brace of rhinoceroses of the
biggest kind.  They were just entering the little glen, through the gap
before mentioned; and were coming down the channel of the river,
plunging through the water as they walked knee-deep.

The superior size of their bodies, as well as their colour, told they
were white rhinoceroses; and the long horn upon the snout, pointing
slightly backward instead of forward, showed they were of that species
known among the natives as "muchocho," and among naturalists as
_Rhinoceros simus_.

The other species of white rhinoceros is the "kobaoba," lately named
_Rhinoceros Oswellii_; although in my opinion it should have been
_Rhinoceros Cummingii_--since the great lion-hunter was not only the
first to give any definite characteristics of this rare species, but
more than any other man has he contributed to a knowledge of the South
African _fauna_.

The principal distinction between the kobaoba and muchocho is observed
in the set and size of the horns.  In neither species is the posterior
horn any thing more than a conical knob of six or seven inches in
length; but in each the anterior horn is very long--far exceeding that
of the black rhinoceroses.  In the kobaoba, this horn sometimes reaches
to the enormous length of four feet, and even exceeds that measurement;
while in the muchocho, three feet is the limit.  In the former the horn
projects forward, standing at an angle of forty-five degrees with the
line of the snout; whereas that of the muchocho is erect, with a slight
curve or sweep backwards.

Both species far exceed in size the two kinds of black rhinoceros, and
are fully equal to their great Asiatic congener--he with the curious
shield-like skin, so well known in picture-books, museums, and
zoological gardens.  In other words, the white rhinoceroses of South
Africa are in point of magnitude, after the elephant, the largest
quadrupeds in the world.  In point of habits they differ altogether from
the black species.  They are grass-feeders, as the shape of their muzzle
testifies; while the black kinds browse upon various kinds of shrubs and
acacia thorns, and are furnished with a prehensile lip for the purpose
of more easily grasping the twigs and branches.

As has been elsewhere observed, in disposition the two kinds are also
very different.  The black rhinoceroses--both "borele" and "keitloa"--
are of an extremely vicious and malignant nature, and more dangerous
even than the lion.  They are swift of foot; and, but for their
defective powers of vision, it would be a perilous thing to approach
them.  The white species, on the contrary, are slow, and less disposed
to make an attack upon man.  When these are wounded, or are accompanied
by their young, the case is different.  They then exhibit all the
ferocity of their race; and many a native hunter has fallen a victim to
the rage of both the kobaoba and muchocho.

The flesh of the two last-named species is excellent eating--being
almost as good as fresh pork.  It is not so with the flesh of the black
rhinoceros, which is strong, rancid, and bitter.

Now, knowing the general disposition of the "muchochos," and knowing
also the delicate flesh which these animals afford to the hunter, our
young yagers at seeing them lost all sense of alarm.  They at once
rushed to their guns, and commenced preparing to receive the advancing
quadrupeds.  Had it been boreles or keitloas, they would have acted
differently; and would, perhaps, have thought only of flying to their
horses, or of ensconcing themselves in the wagons.  Of white
rhinoceroses, however, they had no fear; and having armed themselves,
they advanced boldly and openly to the conflict.

By this time the muchochos had got fairly through the pass; and,
climbing out of the river-channel, stood up on the grassy sward of the
meadow.  Their naked bodies, thus fully exposed to view, appeared of
enormous size.  One, however, was much bigger than the other--in fact,
quite as large as a female elephant--for it was full sixteen feet in
length from the tip of its long blunt snout to the "whisk" upon the top
of its short tail.

But what caused astonishment to the advancing hunters was the fact, that
instead of the two of these animals which they had already seen, three
now appeared upon the bank.  The third, however, was not larger than an
ordinary hog; and, excepting that its snout wanted the characteristic
horn, it might have passed for a miniature of the other two.  Small as
it was, there was no mistaking it for any other animal than a
rhinoceros; and its size as well as actions showed that it was the
young, or "calf," of the two old ones, that were respectively its male
and female parent.

The hunters were delighted with this new discovery.  The flesh of the
young white rhinoceros is much more delicate and tender than that of the
full-grown ones; and all of them, but particularly Swartboy and Congo,
now indulged in the anticipation of a rare treat.

No one thought of the increased danger of their thus attacking the
rhinoceros in company with its young.  That was forgotten in the hurry
and excitement of the moment.  The prudent Hans alone had some
misgivings; but carried away by the enthusiasm of his companions, he
failed to make them known.  In ten seconds afterwards a volley of
reports rang through the little glen; and by that same volley a shower
of bullets--varying in size from the large ounce-ball of the
elephant-gun to the small pea of the rifle--was poured upon the
muchochos.

The only visible effect produced upon the animals was to cause them
suddenly to change their gait, from the slow waddle at which they had
been advancing, to a brisk rapid gallop, which was directed precisely
toward the spot where the hunters were standing!  At the same time the
huge animals were heard to snort and blow like porpoises; and the
sparkling of their small eyes, the quick lashing of their saucy tails,
and the long horns set horizontally, showed that they were charging
forward in the full bent of their fury.  The "calf" followed in the
rear, imitating the noise and actions of its ponderous parents.

This to the hunters was a movement wholly unexpected.  Had it been
borele or keitloa there would have been nothing strange in it.  On the
contrary, it was just as either of the black rhinoceroses would have
acted.  But from muchocho--usually so harmless as to be called cowardly
and stupid--an attack of this nature was quite unlooked for.  The report
of a gun, or even the barking of a dog, will usually put the muchocho to
flight.

But our yagers had not reasoned correctly when they expected these
either to fall to their shots, or take to instant flight.  _They had
forgotten the presence of the calf_.  That it was which caused the white
rhinoceroses to act upon this occasion contrary to their usual habit--
that, and perhaps the wounds they had received--for several of the
bullets, although not fatal, had made painful wounds.  So much the
worse.

Of course, none of the young yagers stood their ground to receive this
heavy charge.  Their guns were now empty, and it would have been of no
use.  On the contrary, each and every one of them turned instanter; and
no mischievous urchin ever ran faster from a parish beadle than did all
six of them towards the camp.  The tails of their coats made a
considerable angle with the line of their backs, as they "sloped" across
the level sward of that little meadow.

The short thick Bushman and the tall lank Kaffir--both of whom had gone
forth to the attack--were not a bit behind in the retreat; and the whole
eight were mingled together in such a helter-skelter pell-mell race, as
had never before been witnessed in that silent and solitary glen.



CHAPTER FORTY SEVEN.

A RIDE UPON A RHINOCEROS.

Fortunately for all they were not distant from their wagons when thus
charged upon.  They had advanced only a few paces before delivering
their fire, and these few paces were all they had to run back, before
they sprang up into the capacious vehicles.  Had it been otherwise--had
the chase only lasted twenty yards farther--most undoubtedly one or more
of the party would have been hoisted upon the horns of the pursuing
animals, or trampled under their broad brutal hoofs.

As it was, the hindmost of them had a narrow escape of it; for they had
hardly taken shelter under the cap-tents of the wagons, when the horns
of the muchochos were heard rattling against the planks.

Although they had fled to the wagons for want of a better place, they
were far from feeling secure.  They knew that these immense brutes,
should they take it into their heads, could soon demolish the vehicles,
strong as these were.  What was their consternation, then, at seeing the
old bull suddenly lower his head, and charge forward upon one of the
wagons, in which several of them had taken refuge!

The next moment was heard the terrible concussion--the horn of the
muchocho struck the "buik plank," passing clear through it--the timber
split from end to end--the "achter kist" was shivered to pieces, and the
huge vehicle was lifted clear from the ground, and hoisted several feet
out of its place!  A simultaneous cry of alarm broke forth from the
occupants of the wagon--which was continued as they saw the huge
quadruped preparing to repeat the charge.

At this crisis the faithful buck-dogs performed an essential service,
and saved, not only the wagons, but perhaps also the lives of their
masters.  As the great bull was heading once more towards the wagon,
several of the dogs attacked him from behind; two of them launched
themselves upon his flanks, and one other springing upward, caught hold
of his tail and hung on!

Now the tail of the rhinoceros is one of his tenderest bits; and this
new and unexpected mode of assault quite disconcerted the old bull.
Instead, therefore, of following up his charge upon the wagon, he turned
round as fast as his unwieldy body would permit, blowing with agony and
rage.  But the stanch hound still hung on, while the others kept biting
at the bull's hind-legs; and vainly attempting to get at the dogs, the
huge beast danced round and round like a kitten after its own tail--if a
comparison may be allowed between two animals of such unequal
magnitudes.

This scene continued for some minutes, until at length the dogs were
thrown off.  One of them was crushed beneath the heavy feet of the
rhinoceros, while another was badly ripped by the horn of the female.
But the gallant brutes had performed their part well; and by means of
their barking and biting, they had drawn the muchochos altogether away
from the wagons, and into a different part of the meadow.

It was not likely they would return to the attack upon the wagons,
unless they chanced to be driven that way by the dogs--for the
rhinoceros, partly from his low power of sight, and partly from his
forgetful nature, rarely returns to assault any object once he has
quitted it.

But a new fear now sprang up in the minds of the young yagers--no longer
for themselves, but for their horses!

These animals, as already stated, along with the oxen, had been left
grazing upon the meadow, without any fastening.  When the muchochos
first appeared, both oxen and horses had taken to flight.  The oxen had
gone toward the lower end of the meadow; and, guided by a cunning old
leader, had set off upon their back trail over the ridge by which they
had entered.  The horses, on the contrary, had remained prancing around
the wagons, until the muchochos came upon the spot; and, then dashing
off together, had leaped the stream, and taken their stand trembling and
cowering close by the cliffs on the opposite side.  Here they had
remained during the early part of the fight between the dogs and
muchochos.

But in the course of this conflict both the dogs and their huge
adversaries had worked up to the spot where the horses were, and once
more set the latter in motion.

Seeing these, the rhinoceroses immediately started after them--perhaps
deeming them antagonists more worthy of their horns; and now for some
minutes a terrible melee of charging muchochos and galloping steeds
filled the measure of the glen--the former blowing and snorting with
rage, while the latter snorted with affright.

Fortunately, the small circumference within which this scene was
enacted, enabled the hunters to use their pieces with effect; and
whenever either of the rhinoceroses came to a stand, if but for a
moment, the crack of a gun could be heard, and the thud of a bullet
hitting against their thick hides.  It is a mistake to suppose that a
leaden bullet will not penetrate the skin of a rhinoceros.  On the
contrary, the hide, though thick, is comparatively soft, and yields
easily to either a spear or a ball--so that every shot took effect.  The
hunters, _par excellence_, Hendrik and Groot Willem, fired most of the
shots, aiming behind the fore-shoulder for the heart and lungs--for in
these parts the shot proves fatal.  A bullet into the brain would have a
like effect; but as the brain of the rhinoceros is exceedingly small in
proportion to the size of the animal, it requires a sure aim to strike
it; and the more certain way is to aim for the lungs.

So aimed Hendrik and Groot Willem; and what with the large leaden balls
of the roer, and the small but better directed pellets of the rifle,
both the muchochos were at length made to bite the dust.  The calf was
shot afterwards; for after the fall of its parents, the creature did not
attempt to run away, but stood by the body of its mother, jerking its
little tail about, and wondering what the trouble was all about.

A very, ludicrous scene was now witnessed, that caused the young yagers
to break into an uncontrollable fit of laughter.  Their laughter,
however, did not come until after the incident was over which gave rise
to it--for there was danger in the scene, and it was somewhat painful to
witness it.

It was as follows.  The rhinoceros, like the American bison, when shot
down by the hunter, rarely falls in the common way of other animals--
upon its side--but usually sinks down upon his breast, and there remains
even after death has taken place.

The two shot by Hendrik and Groot Willem had offered no exception to the
rule.  Both lay upon their bellies at a little distance from the wagons,
their broad massive backs turned upward.

Now a practice equally common among Bushmen, whenever a rhinoceros has
been killed, is to leap upon the animal's back, thrust their spears into
its flesh to try the depth, and discover whether the game be fat, and
consequently valuable!

In the carrying out of this custom, no sooner had the great bull
rhinoceros sunk down under the shots, than our Bushman, Swartboy, seeing
that all danger was over, leaped forth from the wagon, and running up to
where the dead animal lay, sprang upon its back!  Shouting out a wild
cry of triumph, he plunged his _assegai_ into the flesh of the muchocho
to the depth of a foot or more.

Almost at the same instant, the animal, which was not yet dead, rose to
its feet again, and charged once more across the sward, with the Bushman
upon its back!

The shout of triumph, which Swartboy had uttered, was suddenly
interrupted, and cries of a far different import now rang through the
glen; while the rhinoceros, no doubt impelled to fresh energy of life by
the terrible pain he suffered from the Bushman's spear, charged round
and round, as though he had quite recovered!

Swartboy, on the other hand, dared not leap to the ground, lest he might
be impaled upon the dread horns, but held fast to the spear, which,
still buried in the animal's thick flesh, served him as a _point
d'appui_!

How Swartboy would have been delivered, had the strength of the muchocho
held out, it is hard to say; but this gave way at length, and the huge
quadruped once more sank to the earth, pitching the Bushman several
yards over his head!

Swartboy did not lie long where he had been flung; but, sprawling up
again, ran back at top speed to the wagons, where he was welcomed by
yells of laughter!  The oxen were soon overtaken and brought back, the
calf of the muchocho regularly butchered, and that night the young
yagers enjoyed a supper of "rhinoceros veal."



CHAPTER FORTY EIGHT.

JAN AND THE KOORHAANS.

The next camp of the young yagers was fixed in a beautiful valley very
similar to that in which they had seen the troop of lions, but of larger
extent, and having its whole surface enamelled with bright flowers.

There were mountains all around, that seemed to shut in this fair
picture and protect it from the hot dry winds of the desert.  A river
wound through its midst like a silvery serpent; and here and there upon
the pools, where there was not much current, rested the wax-like leaves
and flowers of the blue lily of South Africa, (_Nympha cerulea_), Upon
the plain grew trees and plants of various sorts peculiar to the botany
of the country.  The eyes of the travellers rested upon many a fair
form.  Upon the banks of the stream they saw the drooping fronds of the
Chaldean willow; and by the foot of the mountain the splendid _Acacia
eburnea_, with its umbrella-shaped head, and clusters of golden flowers
filling the air with their fragrance.  They saw the valuable wax-berry,
(_Myrica cerifera_), yielding its clusters of white wax-coated fruit.
They saw the perfumed "bead-bush," out of whose fragrant roots are
shaped the beads held in such esteem among the savage belles of the
land.  They saw the "sugar-bush," (_Protea mellifera_), with its large
cup-shaped pink and white flowers,--the most beautiful of the tribe of
_Proteaceae_.  There, too, were scarlet geraniums, with marigolds, and
starry Cape jessamines, forming a garden in the wilderness pleasant to
the eye and fragrant to the sense.

The songs of numerous birds fell upon the ear, and their brilliant
plumage could be seen as they fluttered among the branches.  The hum of
bees, too, was heard; and thousands of these busy insects could be seen
fluttering from flower to flower.

It was still early when the party arrived in this delightful spot; but
so pleased were all of them with the scene around that they determined
to halt before the usual hour and encamp there for the night.

So, choosing a pretty grove of willow-leafed "olean-wood" trees, that
stood near the bank of the river, they outspanned under their shade.

As they were wearied by their exertions in getting the oxen over some
rocky ridges, all lay down to rest under the cool shadow of the
olean-woods; and several of the boys went to sleep, lulled by the sweet
voices of the birds, the humming of wild bees, and the rushing sound of
the water as it passed over some rapids below.

Klaas and Jan, however, had not gone to sleep with the rest, for neither
had laid their shoulders to the wagon-wheels, and were, therefore, no
more tired than usual.  Besides, there was something nigh at hand that
would have kept both awake, even had they been a good deal fatigued, and
that was the appearance of a pair of very odd-looking birds out upon the
plain, at no great distance from the wagons, and that every now and then
raised their black top-knots above the grass and uttered a cry something
like the croak of a raven.

These birds were not so very large--about the size of common fowls--but
they were game-birds, having flesh of excellent flavour, and this
rendered them interesting at the moment.  They were, also, of very
elegant forms--something of the tall majestic shape of the bustards.  In
fact, they were of a species that forms a sort of link between the
bustards and grouse families; and are known in South Africa as
"koorhaans," and in India by the name of "floricans."

But it was nothing of all this that rendered them so interesting to
Klaas and Jan.  It was that the latter knew a very curious method of
capturing these very birds, and he was in a perfect fever to put it in
practice right before the eyes of the rival bird-boy Klaas.  In fact,
ever since the day that Klaas had so distinguished himself by knocking
over the klipspringer, Jan had been burning for an opportunity to
perform some feat of equal pretensions, but none had turned up.  Now
that these birds--old acquaintances of Jan's they were--had made their
appearance, he saw a fair chance of gaining some renown.  He would show
Klaas how to catch koorhaans in a proper manner--that he would.  So said
Jan.

Jan was not long in having his triumph, which he obtained in the
following manner.

He first pulled some long hair from the tail of his pony, which he
twisted into a large stout snare.  He next proceeded to Swartboy, and
borrowed from the Bushman his whip, or rather the handle of the whip--
for Swartboy took off the lash to accommodate him.  It must be here
remembered that Jan and Swartboy were great allies, and had been so for
a long time; and it was in reality Swartboy who had taught Jan the
curious mode he was about to practise upon the koorhaans.  It must also
be remembered that the handle of Swartboy's whip was an immense affair--
a bamboo cane, full eighteen feet in length, and more like a fishing-rod
than a whip-handle.

Well, upon the end of this, where the lash had been tied, Jan adjusted
his snare; and then, mounting his pony, rode forth upon the plain.

Klaas stood watching him; and upon Klaas's countenance there was a
puzzled expression that Jan did not fail to notice, and that delighted
him exceedingly.

Klaas knew nothing about the _modus operandi_--could not guess how the
other was going to act--and his ignorance betrayed itself, though he did
not say a word.

Was Jan going to ride up and snare the birds?  Surely they would not let
him come so near?  They appeared shy enough, and would not let him,
Klaas, come within shot, for he had tried it but the minute before.  No:
it could not be that way--the koorhaans wouldn't stand it, he knew.

Jan said nothing, but rode triumphantly forth, looking askance at Klaas
as he passed out from camp.

When within about one hundred yards of the koorhaans--Klaas expecting
every moment to see them run off as koorhaans usually do--Jan turned the
head of his pony, and commenced riding round in a circle.

This he continued until he had got quite round the first circumference;
and then, drawing his pony slightly inward, he began a second circle,
which he completed as the first; and then still heading more inward, he
made a third, and a fourth, and a fifth--of all which circles the
bustards formed the centre.  Of course, it was not exactly a circle he
traced, but a spiral line constantly narrowing inward upon the game.

"Oho!" muttered Klaas, "I see what he's after now.  Oho!"

Klaas said nothing more; but remained watching with great interest,
while Jan continued round and round like a blind horse in a brick-mill.

But Jan was not blind.  He was watching the movements of the koorhaans
with the sharp eye of a bird-catcher.

And these birds were equally watching him--turning their heads now to
this side and now to that; but, like stupids as they were, neglecting to
use either their wings or legs to carry them out of the way of danger.

The result was that they permitted the pony, and Jan upon its back, to
approach so near, that the boy was at length able to reach one of them
with the top of Swartboy's long whip-stick, and pass the noose over
head, topknot, and all.

In another moment the bird was fluttering at the end of the bamboo; and
Jan, without dismounting, pulled the creature in that way up to the
wagons, and held it there with an air of triumph that left Klaas without
a word to say for the "balance" of that evening.



CHAPTER FORTY NINE.

GROOT WILLEM AND THE PYTHON.

Groot Willem awoke from his nap before the others.  It still wanted
nearly two hours of sunset, and the hunter, observing a reddish object
at a distance that looked like some animal, shouldered his roer and
proceeded towards it.  He took with him one of the buck-dogs, a
well-trained and favourite hound, that usually accompanied him--even on
a stalking expedition.

The red object which he had seen was near the edge of the valley, and at
the bottom of a rocky precipice that bounded it upon that side.  There
were some trees growing along by the foot of the cliff, and the hunter
calculated on being able to get a shot at the animal, whatever it was,
from behind the cover of these trees.  He continued on up the valley,
and at length got near enough to tell what he was stalking at.

It was a small antelope, just about the size of the klipspringer, and
with little erect horns four inches in length.  In colour, however, it
was unlike the latter.  The upper parts of its body were a deep red, and
underneath white, while its snout and face were black.  The little
creature was higher at the croup than at the withers, and entirely
without a tail, or with a tail only one inch long, that had more the
appearance of a stump.

Groot Willem, when he came nigh, recognised this antelope to be the
_steenbok_, for he had met with it before, as it is common throughout
the colony, inhabiting high lying grounds where there are bushes.  It is
one of those classed under the genus _Tragulus_, of which three other
species--all small antelopes--are met with in South Africa.  The other
three are the "grysbok," (_Tragulus melanotis_), the "vlackte steenbok,"
(_T. rufescens_), and the "bleekbok;" (_T. pediotragus_); though some
naturalists assert that the last are only _varieties_ of the steenbok,
(_T. rupestris_).  Groot Willem did not spend a thought upon these
matters, he only thought of "stalking" the steenbok, and having its ribs
for a roast at supper.  He was able to approach it without any
difficulty, as it was close to the bushes, and appeared not to be very
shy.

There was but the creature itself--a little buck; and rarely is more
than one, or at most two of these antelopes seen together--for the
steenbok, and all the others of the genus _Tragulus_, are monogamous and
solitary.

Groot Willem was at length within range, and was about to level his roer
on the game, when the movements of the little animal caused him to hold
his hand.  Its actions were very odd, indeed.  It was not browsing--it
was not standing still--it was not running away from the ground,--and
yet it was in constant motion!

As already stated, it was close in to the edge of the timber, where a
number of small olean trees stood thinly over the ground.  In front of
these the little buck was dancing about in a very original manner.  Now
it ran to the right,--anon to the left,--now zigzag,--now it started
suddenly backwards,--then ran forwards again,--all the while its eyes
turning in a particular direction and shining brilliantly, as if the
animal itself was in a state of unusual excitement.

Groot Willem looked to discover the cause of this odd manoeuvring on the
part of the steenbok; something among the olean-wood trees seemed to
attract the notice of the animal.  On this something the eyes of the
hunter rested with wonderment; and for some moments he was unable to
make out what it was.  He could perceive a large glittering mass near
the bottom of one of the trees; but this mass at first sight appeared
without any particular form, and lay perfectly motionless.

As Groot Willem continued to gaze upon it, however, it gradually assumed
a form, or rather his eyes gradually traced one, for the mass had not
yet moved.

A hideous form it was--though of smooth and regular proportions--it was
the form of a reptile--a serpent!

A serpent of enormous size, for the mass of its body, gathered up in a
sort of irregular coil, covered the ground over a space of several
square feet, while the body itself seemed thicker than the thighs of a
full-grown man!  The head of the reptile rested upon the top of the
coiled body, and on running his eye along the mottled and glistening
outlines, Groot Willem perceived that its tail was doubled around the
stem of the olean-wood, and held it with firm grasp--for the serpent
belonged to a family whose tails are furnished with horny claw-like
hooks, giving them a power of prehension in this member equal to that of
a hand.  This is the family of the _Boidae_, or "boas," to which the one
in question was generically related.  It was a _python_--the _Python
Natalensis_.

Groot Willem only knew it as the "rock-snake," and that is its ordinary
designation--given it on account of the fact of its being a dweller
among rocks and stony places.  It might very properly be called
"rock-boa," which would distinguish it from its cousins of America, the
_Anaconda_, or "water-boa," and the true boa, which is a denizen of the
forest, and which would therefore merit the title of "tree-boa."

Notwithstanding the difference of the dwelling-place of the boas and
pythons, their habits are very similar.  They lie in wait for their
prey, capture it with their strong retractile teeth, and crushing it to
death by constriction, swallow it whole--though often the animal
swallowed is much larger than the diameter of their own bodies.  Their
elastic muscles, however, enable them to effect their purpose, aided by
the slippery saliva which is copiously supplied from their glands.

When Groot Willem first saw the huge python, its head was lying over the
coils of its body, and motionless.  Presently, the head was raised up
with the neck, and several feet of the body; and the parts, thus
erected, moved gently from side to side with a sort of vibratory motion.
The jaws were widely extended, so that the sharp retractile teeth were
plainly visible, and the forked tongue at intervals was shot forward,
and gleamed in the sun.  The _eyes_ of the reptile sparkled like fire.

It was a fearful object to look upon!  And yet the steenbok did not
appear to dread it.  On the contrary, it kept drawing nearer and nearer,
excited either by curiosity or _fascination_!

There are those who ridicule the idea of _fascination_ on the part of
serpents.  But whether we are to believe in such a power or not, we
cannot deny the fact.  Certain it is, that whether it be curiosity,
fear, or fascination, both birds and animals are moved to approach not
only serpents, but crocodiles, until within reach of the jaws that are
opened to devour them.  Certain is this, and vouched for by the
testimony of many a correct and reliable observer.

Groot Willem witnessed the strange phenomenon.  When the buck had got
within some six or eight feet of the python, the head of the latter
suddenly shot out; and before the antelope, which now appeared making an
effort to escape, could spring out of the way, it was seized by the
teeth of the reptile, and dragged towards the tree!

A number of quick contortions followed, and when Groot Willem looked
again, the red body of the little antelope was almost hidden under the
thick folds of the spotted python, that writhing around it was crushing
it to death!



CHAPTER FIFTY.

GROOT WILLEM'S GREAT STRUGGLE WITH THE SNAKE.

Now it chanced that the sight of that great serpent was very gratifying
to the eyes of Groot Willem--far more so than any antelope.  The reason
was, that a friend of his, a young doctor of Graaf Reinet, who was fond
of the study of herpetology, had requested him to bring home the skins
of such rare snakes as he might fall in with--but especially that of the
great "rock-snake," which is not found in the colony, not even so far
south as the Orange River.

Here was a chance for the skin, which, up to this time, Groot Willem had
searched for in vain.

He had another reason for being gratified; and that was the splendid
trophy it would be, provided he succeeded in obtaining it.  To kill a
snake twenty feet long, and half as thick as a man--for the python
appeared to be both--would be no small triumph!  Where would Hendrik be
then?

All at once the steenbok was forgotten, and the snake became the object
of the hunter's skill.

Groot Willem had no skill about him.  He knew of no mode to attack this
new sort of enemy, except dealing with it as he would with a quadruped--
that is, sending a bullet into it; and this he did the moment after.

His roer was levelled; and, glancing through his ivory sights, he fired
the large ball through the thickest part of the reptile's body.

The latter felt the shot; and, suddenly unfolding itself, dropped the
steenbok--now nothing more than a mangled carcase, with scarce a whole
bone in it.  The rapidity with which the snake glided off showed that
the wound had done it but little harm.

The hunter thought of reloading again, when he perceived the serpent
fast making to the rocks that in large masses lay piled up near the
bottom of the cliff.  Among these was its retreat; and if it once
reached them, Groot Willem saw that he should never set eyes on it
again.

Without staying to reload his gun, then, he ran in among the trees, and
followed the direction taken by the serpent.

Although these snakes glide along with considerable rapidity, they can
by no means go so fast as a man; and in less than a dozen seconds Groot
Willem had overtaken the python, and for that matter might have trodden
upon its tail.

There he was close beside the fearful-looking monster, but without the
knowledge how to attack it.  He began by striking at its body with the
butt of his gun; but although his blows were delivered fairly enough,
the metal-shod heel of his roer only glanced from the slippery skin of
the snake, without harming it in the least, or even retarding its
progress towards the cliff.  It made no attempt to retaliate, but only
seemed bent on escaping to its lair.

It was almost successful; for although Groot Willem pounded away with
all his might, it reached the rocks in spite of him, and had buried half
of its long body within a crevice--no doubt the entrance to its den--
before the hunter thought of changing his tactics.

It was now a critical moment with Groot Willem.  Another instant, and
the remaining half of the snake would slip out of sight, and then
good-bye to it.  What would he say to his medical friend?  What to
Hendrik and the yagers?

These thoughts inspired him with renewed energy; a new determination to
succeed came over him.  The snake was not a poisonous one; and,
therefore, the encounter could not be very dangerous.  It might bite
him, but he had battled with many a biting creature before now, and
conquered them, too.  He would try his strength upon the snake.

He was not two seconds of time on coming to this determination; and, as
soon as he had done so, he tossed his roer aside, and stooping down,
seized the tail of the snake in both hands, and commenced hauling upon
it!

At the first "pluck" he drew the reptile several feet outward; but, to
his surprise, it then held fast; and, notwithstanding his great
strength, he was unable to draw it a foot farther.  The creature had, no
doubt, got the fore-part of its body around an angle in the rocks; and,
aided by its scaly skin, was enabled to hold fast.

Groot Willem pulled with all his might.  A sailor in a storm could not
have hauled harder upon the main brace; but all to no purpose, as not
another foot of that part of the python that was still visible could be
lengthened.  About the half of it was still outside, but the other ten
feet were buried within the dark recesses of the rocks.

For several minutes Groot Willem continued to exert his strength,
dragging the long cylinder until he could hear its vertebrae crack, but
without gaining an inch!  On the contrary, he had already lost several
inches.  Every time that he relaxed his hold, the python was enabled to
move forward a bit, and this ground it never gave up again.  If Groot
Willem allowed it an inch, it was sure to struggle for an ell!  It had
all the advantage on its side, as it pulled _with the grain_, while its
antagonist was exerting his strength _against_ it.

Groot Willem felt confident he could hold the python in this position,
as long as he could stand upon his feet; but what good would there be in
so doing?  He could not kill it in that way.  If he were to "let go" for
but an instant, he very well knew that the next instant would show him
the last inch of the tail disappearing into the crevice!  No, he could
not let go, and he was resolved not to let go, until he should at least
try the patience of his opponent.  Maybe it would tire of being thus
held upon the "stretch," and would let him pull it out again.

If there had only been some one with him to administer a few smart blows
upon the creature's body it would have been all well; but the camp was
at a very long distance off, and behind the trees.  His companions could
neither see nor hear him.

After standing on the strain a considerable time, a bright idea entered
the brain of the hunter.  There grew a small tree beside him--in fact,
he was close by its trunk.  The thought occurred that, if by any means
he could fasten the tail to the tree, he could then go to work with a
sapling, and beat the snake to death at his pleasure.

He was a ready fellow, Groot Willem, and a few moments sufficed him to
mature his plans.  He chanced to have a strong "cord" in the ample
pocket of his jacket, which would serve to effect the very purpose, if
he could only manage somehow to make it fast to the tail.  This he
proceeded to do at once.

Straddling the snake, so as to hold it partly between his knees, he was
enabled to loop the cord tightly around it, and the thing was done.  In
a minute more, the other end of the cord was tightly knotted around the
trunk of the tree!

Groot Willem now broke off a sapling, determined either to beat the
hinder half of the python to a jelly, or make it surrender and show its
head!

He had not delivered the third blow, when it adopted the latter
alternative; and the whole of its body now glided rapidly back out of
the crevice--so rapidly that Groot Willem was not able to avoid the
onset of the enraged reptile, and the next moment he was gathered within
its coils!

So quick was the act, that he scarce knew how it had been accomplished.
He saw the head, with its open jaws extended, dart towards him; he
sprang to one side, but felt the cold scaly body against his limbs as if
pulling him towards the tree; and the moment after, he was swept close
up to the trunk, and pressed tightly against it!

He had just time to perceive that the folds of the serpent were around
his limbs, and also around the trunk of the tree,--just time to feel
that they were gradually tightening upon him--when the head, with its
extended jaws and terrible teeth, came right opposite his face, and the
eyes of the monster gleamed right into his!

A horrid spectacle it was--a horrid situation he was in; but Groot
Willem was not the boy to lose either courage or presence of mind; and,
finding his arms still free, he clutched forward and seized the reptile
by the throat.  To hold its head was just as much as he was able with
both hands and with all his strength; but he held with the grasp of
despair.  Fortunate it was for him that the tail of the python was
secured by the rheim, and it was thus held fast at both ends!  Had it
been otherwise--had either head or tail been free, so that it could have
used its power of constriction--in a few seconds more, Groot Willem
would have been crushed as he had seen the little antelope.  But now
that both tail and head were fixed--the one by the cord and the other in
the strong grasp of the hunter--the serpent was unable to exert its
terrible power; and its folds remained loose around the limbs of its
intended victim!

It writhed its neck, and wriggled its body, and changed the spiral rings
from one part to another,--but all in vain.  It could do him no harm!

How long this terrible struggle might have lasted would have depended
upon how long the strength of the two could have held out.  Groot Willem
could not free himself from the folds of his antagonist, as _both_ his
legs were bound to the tree; and had he dropped the head of the python
for a moment, he knew it would crush him to death.  The snake, on the
other hand, could not free itself, as it was held fast at both
extremities.  What was to be the result?  Which would be the conqueror?

The serpent must have conquered in the end; though it might not have
been able to free itself, as its tail was fastened to the tree.  But
Groot Willem was not able to strangle it, with all the compression he
was exercising upon its throat, and his strength would have yielded in
time.  Most certainly would he have fallen a victim, but for a plan that
he at length adopted to set himself free.

During all the continuance of the fight between him and the serpent, he
had not attempted to use his knife.  He had not thought of such a weapon
against such an enemy.  Not dreaming that he would be brought into close
quarters, he had almost forgotten that he carried a knife.  By good
fortune he had one, and it was in his belt.  Even though one or two
folds of the snake were around his breast, he could see the handle of
the knife above them; and making a sudden grasp, he laid hold of it, and
drew it forth.

The blade chanced to be almost as keen as a razor; and although the
serpent now succeeded in twisting its head partially free, before it
could tighten its folds, the sharp edge of the knife had half severed
its body in twain!

A second gash was made in another part, and then a third and still
deeper one; and the resolute hunter had the gratification to see the
spiral rounds that threatened his destruction fall off and drop heavily
to his feet!

In a short while the python lay dead upon the ground; and Groot Willem,
although he felt that he had secured a great triumph, left the spot with
some regret that he had _spoiled the skin_!



CHAPTER FIFTY ONE.

THE HONEY-GUIDE AND HONEY-EATER.

Groot Willem's adventure was acknowledged by all to be the most
wonderful that had occurred to any of them--even surpassing that of
Hendrik with the rhinoceros--and for a good while it continued to be the
subject of camp conversation.

During the expedition, every one of the party had either performed some
grand feat or fallen in with a remarkable adventure, except Arend.  It
was not that Arend had less courage or less capacity than the rest; but,
partly, because he felt no inclination to put himself in the way of
hunting adventures, and partly that the chances had not favoured him.
One adventure he had fallen in with--literally _fallen in_ with.  He had
tumbled, horse and all, into a pit-trap set by some savages for
capturing the rhinoceros!  Fortunately, the sharp spike, usually placed
at the bottom of these holes, had been removed--else either Arend or the
horse would have fared worse than they did.  Many a laugh had the six
young yagers at Arend's solitary adventure.  I say six, for Arend always
good-naturedly joined in it himself.  Arend was not the man for
adventures in the great wilderness.  Had it been in the great city
instead, no doubt his fine face and handsome figure would have helped
him to many a one in the flirtation line--had he been inclined that way.
But neither did Arend care about that.  He had but one ruling thought--
so Groot Willem alleged--and that was to get home to the Graaf Reinet;
and Groot usually added the reason, by giving a wink, and a word or two
about "cherry cheeks and blue eyes."

Arend, however, was not destined to see home without one other
adventure, in which all the rest had share, and which proved not only
the last they met with during that expedition, but was near being the
last of their lives!

They had changed their camp from the flowery plain to another equally
flowery, though the plants that blossomed around were of a very
different character.  There were geraniums and marigolds in this plain,
as there had been in the other; but here euphorbias of different species
predominated, with cacti and other succulent plants.

Above their heads towered the tree Euphorbia, (_E. grandidens_), while
at their feet the melon-shaped variety peeped forth from the ground.
There too, were several poisonous species; among others the _Euphorbia
antiquorum_ growing side by side with the deadly belladonna lily,
(_Amaryllis belladonna_).  The young yagers seemed to have arrived upon
a spot of earth that was almost wholly occupied with poison-yielding
plants!

And yet it was a lovely scene.  The flowers looked as fresh and as fair
as elsewhere, and their fragrance scented the air around.  Birds
disported themselves among the branches of the trees; and bees hummed
and whirred over the blossoms, imparting cheerfulness to the wild scene,
and calling up ideas of home that were, at the moment, agreeable to the
tired travellers.  They had just formed camp, and were sitting quietly
down, when their attention was drawn to a bird that had perched itself
upon a low bush at no great distance from the wagons.  It was not the
beauty of this bird that attracted them, for its plumage was not
beautiful, being of an ashy-brown colour upon the back, and grey below.
It was not its size, which was that of an ordinary finch; nor its song,
which was no better than a monotonous chatter of the syllables
"Kwi-kwi-kwi-kit."  It was none of these things that caused the young
yagers to give their attention to the bird, but its peculiar character--
already well known to all of them.  The little bird which sat upon the
bush, starting from branch to branch, jerking about its tail, and
uttering the "kwi-kwi-kit," was no other than the celebrated
"honey-guide."

They all knew it; for they had met with it several times during the
expedition, and Hans had told them its history.  They all knew of its
curious habits; how it will guide a man to the nest of the wild bee, by
fluttering before him from bush to bush and rock to rock until it
reaches the spot; how it will wait until the hive has been robbed of its
honey-treasure; and then alight by the despoiled nest to feed upon the
larvae of the bees, or the fragments of honeycomb that may have been
left!  They all knew this of the honey-guide, because they had followed
one before now, and proved the truth of this wonderful _instinct_, which
has been doubted by many travellers as well as naturalists.

Those points of its natural history they did not know of Hans had told
them of long before.  He had told them how the bird had been classed
among the cuckoos, under the title _Cuculus indicator_--because it
shares with the true cuckoos the singular habit of depositing its eggs
in the nest of another bird; how other naturalists have formed a genus
for itself--the genus _indicator_, of which several species are known;
how the bird feeds mostly upon honey and the larvae of bees; and how
nature has given it a protection against the stings of the old ones in
the thickness of its skin: but Swartboy declared, in relation to this
matter, that the thick skin did not always save it; as he had often
found the honey-guide lying dead by the nests of the bees, and evidently
killed by their stings!

All these points in the natural history of the honey-bird were known to
the young yagers; therefore the little chatterer, that had lit upon the
adjacent bush, was no stranger to them.

And they were all right glad to see it, for a certain reason--because
they wanted some honey, and particularly at that very time, as their
sugar had run out, and they had nothing to sweeten their coffee with--a
privation to several of the party.

All leaped to their feet, therefore, with the determination to follow
the "honey-guide," go where it would.

They laid hold of their arms; and, what was still stranger, saddled and
mounted their horses, intending to follow the guide on horseback!

You will wonder at this.  But when you hear that the honey-guide often
takes the hunter six or seven miles through the woods--and that not
unfrequently it guides him to the lair of a lion, or the haunt of a
black rhinoceros, instead of to the nest of a bee--you will understand
why the young yagers took these precautions.

Just as they were about starting out, a very odd-looking animal "hove in
sight."  It had something of the appearance of a badger--being low set
on its legs, plantigrade in its hind-feet, and with a snout and tail
very like those of that animal.  Its colour, too, and pelage, was not
unlike that of the common badger--a sombre grey above and black below,
divided by a light stripe running down each side from the ears to the
root of the tail.  In size it was superior to the badger, and nearly
equalling in this respect the American glutton, or "wolverene," which it
also resembled.  It had the general appearance of all the animals of the
badger family--which, though few in genera and species, is represented
by one or two in nearly every part of the globe.  The animal which our
yagers saw, or its species, to speak more properly, was the
representative of that family in South Africa.  It was the "ratel," or
"honey-eater," (_Mellivora capensis_).

Now this quadruped was almost as well known to our party as the bird.
They knew that its habits were equally singular; that, like the
"indicator," it possessed a "sweet tooth;" and spent most, if not all of
its time, in searching for the nests of bees and robbing them of their
honey--provided the said nests were in the ground, where it could tear
them up with its strong terrier-claws.  On the other hand, when the nest
chanced to be in a tree, they knew the ratel could not reach it--this
animal not being a tree-climber.  On such occasions he usually leaves
the mark of his claws upon the lower bark, and this often guides the
Hottentot hunter to a nest stored with honey.  All these things the
yagers had learnt from Swartboy and Congo; and from Hans a few other
facts--such as that the ratel is found throughout all Africa--that it is
formed by naturalists into a genus of itself, like so many other
anomalous creatures of that continent--that its skin is so thick the
bees cannot pierce it with their stings, so that it devours their
honeycombs without fear of the buzzing insects--that on account of its
disagreeable odour it is sometimes known as the "stinking badger."

Other facts with which all were acquainted were, that the ratel is
accustomed to follow the "honey-guide;" and that the bird frequently
conducts the quadruped to the hive--very much in the same way as it acts
when followed by a man.  _It is said_, however, on such occasions to fly
lower, and to take shorter flights, lest the badger might lose sight of
it!  So says Monsieur Verreaux!

Now it was plain to the party that the ratel was at that moment in
pursuit of his profession, and in full pursuit of the indicator.  The
interference, however, of the mounted yagers caused him to turn round,
and make off in another direction; and the impatient "guide," having now
gone ahead, was followed by a-much larger "tail."

On went the little creature from tree to tree, uttering its
"kwi-kwi-kit," and evidently pleased at its new "following."  On rode
the young yagers directly in the wake of their guide.

Fortunately they had not far to go.  The more frequently repeated
twittering of the bird, and the increased excitement which the little
creature exhibited, told the hunters they were near the nest of the
bees; and in a few minutes after the bird perched upon a particular
tree, and would fly no farther.  In this tree was the hive!

They could have told that from the fact that near its roots the bark was
scratched and torn off by the claws of some animal--the claws of a
ratel, of course--and the amount of scratching showed, that more than
one of these honey-eating quadrupeds had been guided to this place of
_sweets_ to meet with bitter disappointment!

A pair of axes, with Swartboy and Congo to handle them, were now brought
from the camp; the tree soon fell under their strokes: the bees were
smoked out; and the honeycombs--a fragment or two being left as a reward
for the services of the "guide"--were carried off to camp.

The store proved one of the largest? and the six yagers, as well as
their dark-skinned attendants, that evening enjoyed a "surfeit of
sweets."



CHAPTER FIFTY TWO.

CONCLUSION.

And a surfeit of sweets it proved.  Better for them had they never found
that bees' nest, or had left its contents to the bird and the badger.

In less than an hour from the time they had eaten the honey, the whole
camp was in a state of the greatest alarm.  Every one of the party was
suffering from a parched throat, a burning breast, and a loathing at the
stomach.  The bees had been busy among the blossoms of the belladonna
and the flowers of the euphorbia, and _their honey was poison_!

It would be difficult to depict the consternation that was felt in the
camp.  They had all eaten of the poisoned honey--yagers, drivers, and
all.  They had all eaten plentifully of it--for there chanced to be
plenty--and the absence of a vegetable diet for some days past had
sharpened their appetite for the honey.  Not one of them that was not
ill--too ill either to give help or consolation to the others.

Every one believed he was _poisoned_, and acted accordingly.  Hans of
all preserved most presence of mind.  He used all his skill in
administering such antidotes as he could think of.  Purgatives and
emetics--such as they had in their chests--were freely administered; and
no doubt to these might be attributed the saving of their lives.

Their lives _were_ saved--the crisis passed without proving fatal to any
of them--but for days their illness continued; for days the young yagers
might be seen wandering about the camp, or sitting listlessly around the
camp-fire reduced to the thinness of skeletons, and looking like the
ghosts of their former selves!

So great a shock had their health received, that they thought no more of
continuing their expedition; they only waited for strength enough to
enable them to set out on their return homeward.  Arend's desire would
now be fulfilled--he would soon look upon the lovely Truey, and listen
to the cheerful music of her voice.  Hendrik--ardent hunter though he
was--was equally desirous to get back, and lay his spoils at the feet of
the blushing Wilhelmina.  Klaas and Jan longed for puddings and
sugar-plums; and Hans, who had now made a very extensive collection of
the flora of the country, was also willing to return.

Only one--the great tireless loose-boned giant, Groot Willem--would
still have persevered, and climbed over the mountains that separated
them from the land of elephants, buffaloes, and camelopards.  Groot
Willem would still have gone on, had it been possible for the others to
have accompanied him.  But it was not possible, and the big hunter-boy
was obliged to turn back with his companions.  It was with a heavy heart
that he did so--for he had for many years entertained an ardent longing
to try his roer upon the huge thick-skinned quadrupeds that now roamed
far beyond the frontier of the settlements.  Perhaps he faced homeward
with the less regret, that he had hopes of making, at no distant day,
_another expedition to the haunts of the mighty elephant upon the banks
of the lovely Limpopo_.

This hope consoled Groot Willem, as he mounted his huge horse, and rode
after the wagons that were already inspanned and treking down the
valley.

Day by day, as the young yagers travelled homewards, they grew stronger
and stronger; and when they had reached the Graaf Reinet, the effects of
the poisoned honey had entirely disappeared--so that all six arrived
home "safe and sound."

I need not tell you that a warm welcome awaited them in the paternal
mansions of Van Wyk and Von Bloom.  I need not tell how lovely looked
Truey, and how sweetly blushed Wilhelmina; nor need I describe the
splendid "vrolykeid" that was given--at which all the rich boors of the
country were present to celebrate the return of:

"The Young Yagers."

The End.