Chapter Ten.

Chapter Ten.A Glorious Sight for a Hunter.Watch was set in the usual manner, so that the fire might be well kept up, and after a good dry, and a hearty meal—such a one as is made by those who have toiled all day in the open air—those who were at liberty so to do soon sought their blankets, and slept soundly and well.To Dick and Jack it seemed that they had only just lain down, when there was a firm hand laid upon them, and they were awakened by the General, who signed to them in the grey morning light to get up.They crept out of the waggon yawning, but that sign of slothfulness was soon chased away, and their father joining them, they took their guns and followed the General, leaving Dinny with orders to wake the boys, and to get breakfast ready by their return.“Where are we going, father?” asked Dick.“I can’t say, my boy. The Zulu awakened me as he did you. He has something to show us, I suppose.”Their way lay up a woodland slope, where the trees had a park-like aspect, and beneath their shade it was still quite dim, but here and there they caught glimpses of the sky, which was flecked with little clouds of orange, and vermilion, and gold, while the light was rapidly growing in the east.The General went on rapidly, as if quite sure of his route, and it seemed that the point at which he was aiming was the highest part of a ridge.And so it proved, for when he had reached the summit the Zulu chief walked cautiously along for a short distance, and then stopped and stooped down, motioning to those who followed to do the same.They obeyed him implicitly, preparing their pieces at the same time. Then creeping up to him cautiously, they found that they were on a ridge looking down into a widespread valley, flooded with the light of the approaching sunrise.It was a glorious scene, and worth all the trouble and patience of their long journey to see. It was almost breathlessly that they gazed at the broad, grassy valley, with its clumps of trees, patches of wood, and portions dotted with masses of rock, whose tops were bathed in the amber morning tints, while in the direction where the little party gazed the shadows of tree and stone lay dark.Facing them in the east the clouds were now gorgeous in their hues, one layer forming a grand arch of light, towards which darted upwards the rays of the coming sun.But it was not only the sunrise that was glorious in the extreme, nor the beauty of the broad valley that held the spectators’ eyes, but the occupants of the scene below.The General had undertaken to guide them to what he called the great game country, and he had kept his word. For below them—to right, to left, and away towards the golden burst of glory where the sun was about to rise—the land was literally alive with game.Down to their right spread broad marshy lagoon after lagoon, in which swam, dived or waded, countless ducks and crane. Here, writhing its snaky neck and curious head and beak, was the flamingo, all white and rose; there, soft grey cranes and others, with a lovely crest, as if in imitation of the rays of the rising sun.But it was not the wondrous variety of birds alone that took their attention, but the large game, feeding, gambolling, and careering in countless herds. To the left were zebras, and beyond some quaggas, or wild asses, the peculiar bray or cry ofquay-gah!quay-gah! reaching to their ears. On their right there were gnus, or wildebeestes, as the Boers called them, brindled and the blue—curiously fierce-looking little animals, partaking both of the character of the deer and the buffalo. Some grazed placidly in the morning light, others were engaged in tilting at each other with their horns, while their companions looked on as if waiting for their turn; and every now and then the sound of the striking horns ascended to the woody ridge with a loud crash.But while these creatures contended together, groups of antelopes were dotted here and there, while others careered at lightning speed over the plain.The sight was wonderful, and the boys felt as if they would never tire of watching the evolutions of the graceful creatures, which, with their skins glistening and horns looking golden in the morning light, seemed to be going through a series of military evolutions with the greatest precision.“Koodoo, pronghorn,” said Mr Rogers, looking at the herd through his glass. “There are a dozen elands too,” he continued, and then passed the glass to his sons.“Oh, this is grand,” cried Dick enthusiastically. “I could stay here for ever watching the graceful creatures.”“So could I,” said Jack, after breakfast. “I say, father, hadn’t we better shoot something—the stock’s getting low?”“Yes,” said Mr Rogers quietly; and he longed to go himself and bring down a good fat buck for the replenishment of the larder; but the expedition was for his sons, and he gave place to them. “Now, Dick,” he continued, “here is a chance for you to try and stalk one of those hartebeestes; or better still, a nice fat antelope. Pick out one with a fine head of horns, and then aim straight at the shoulder, and be sure and bring him down.”“At what distance would you fire, father?” asked Dick.“I’d get as close as I could, my boy, but I’d fire at six or seven hundred yards sooner than miss a shot. Now go!”Dick crept off, his father giving him a warning word about not losing his way, but to impress the land-marks upon his memory, so as to recognise them if he went astray.As he disappeared down the valley side of the slope, Mr Rogers turned to Jack.“Well, my boy, would you like a try as well?”Jack’s whole face, as well as his tongue, said yes, and Mr Rogers smilingly pointed down into the valley, in the other direction.“Be careful,” he said, “and don’t fire either in our direction or in your brother’s, for a rifle-bullet flies far.”“All right, father,” cried Jack; and he too crept down the slope from bush to bush, to try and stalk one of the bok that came nearest to the clump of wood upon his right.“So this is the game country?” said Mr Rogers.“Yes, boss, this the game country, but only bit outside. I show you big game yet—elephant, lion, all the big animal, only wait.”Mr Rogers was ready to set self aside in every way in his efforts to educate his sons, so he took out his glass and sat down beside the General, watching the various herds of wild animals in the glowing morning light, and thinking how grateful he ought to be to see his boys daily growing in health, strength, and confidence. For it was unmistakable; Dick, the weak, half-consumptive lad, was altering rapidly, and the anxious father’s heart rejoiced as the dark shadow that had hovered over his life seemed to be chased away.As he sat there thinking, and bringing his glass to bear upon the various herds, while waiting for them to take the alarm, he could not help feeling that Dick and Jack were managing uncommonly well to have gone on so long without alarming the game. It showed thoughtfulness, and ability in the hunter’s craft; not, of course, that he wished them to turn out hunters, but he believed in thoroughness, and he used to say that if it was only play it ought to be done well.He was letting the glass rest upon his knees, with his eyes running dreamily over the landscape, when he became aware of the fact that the Zulu was watching him intently, as he sat there with a couple of assegais across his knees.“I am sorry I was so unjust to him that night,” thought Mr Rogers. “It is a pity one’s nature prompts one to be so hasty and suspicious.”Then as his eyes met those of the General, as it was fast becoming the custom to call him, he cudgelled his brains for some way of showing his confidence in him, who was so completely their guide.Suddenly a soft smile beamed on the Zulu’s fierce countenance, and he said gently,—“Boss thinking about his boys. Fine brave boys; make big warriors and chiefs. Zulu wish his boys here too. Love his boys same as white man.”Mr Rogers stretched out his hand to the Zulu on the instant, for he had touched the chord of their common humanity, and white man and black man, as their hands joined in one firm grip, felt that henceforth they would be friends who could trust each other to the end.“Look!” cried the Zulu suddenly; and he pointed down into the plain, where the alarm had been taken in the direction taken by Dick.Antelopes that had been feeding, suddenly threw up their heads and galloped together, seeming to form square—first with horns outward to resist attack; then they reformed, and charged in one direction; halted, turned, and charged in another—as if alarmed, and yet not knowing which way to go.The wildebeestes that had been fighting stopped, erected their tails, pawed the ground, and then, throwing their heads side-wise, began to plough it with one horn, but only to snort loudly and tear over the plain; while the zebras and quaggas began to toss their heads and tear about over the grassy wild, kicking and plunging, and scattering the light antelopes like the wind.Suddenly there was a puff of smoke from a clump of bushes quite a mile away, and after an interval the faint crack of a rifle.“That’s Dick’s gun, General,” said Mr Rogers, bringing his glass to bear upon a little herd of antelopes that must have formed the object of the shot; but not one of them fell, neither did either of them seem to be lamed.“Miss, this time,” said the General, quietly.Just then there was another report, evidently a shot at long range; but the only effect was to drive the game more in the direction of Jack’s position, or what they supposed to be Jack’s position.Seeing then that Dick was not likely to get another shot, Mr Rogers turned his glass in the other direction; but there was nothing to see but the great herds of game, going more and more towards a clump of timber—trees that were of glorious shades of green in the morning sun. But, all at once, as a troop of gnus were trotting by, three or four large birds came rushing out, as if alarmed, and the gnus took fright, tearing off at a frantic pace. But before they had gone far there was a white puff of smoke from the end of the clump.“Well done!” cried Mr Rogers. “He did well to get so far. But it is another miss. We must not depend on the boys yet for our dinners.”The whole plain seemed to be now alive, and herd after herd of game, that had been hidden from them by the trees, had rushed into sight, and was now careering onward, and away from the dangerous proximity to the woods.“Poor boys! All their trouble for nothing,” said Mr Rogers, closing his glass. “I wish I had gone too. I might have hit something.”“Boss Jack has hit,” said the Zulu, pointing.And just then, to the father’s great delight, he saw one of the curious antelopes suddenly stop short, the rest of the herd galloping onwards. Then it shook its head, turned, and seemed giddily to gallop back, and finally fell dead.Almost at the same moment they saw Jack run out from the clump of timber, gun in one hand, cap in the other, which latter he began to wave frantically above his head.“Well done, boy! A good shot,” cried Mr Rogers. “Ah, there’s Dick.”For Dick now showed himself, a mile away to the left, and began to cross the open to join his brother, whose success he must have seen.“The next thing is to get the game home,” said Mr Rogers. “We’ll go back, and send Peter and Dirk.”He placed a shrill little whistle to his lips as he spoke, and as its piercing note rang out, the boys, who had been making for the fallen gnu, turned to come back.“I’ll go!” said the General. “Mustn’t leave the game. Look, boss.”He pointed, and in the distance there was a great vulture winging its way towards the fallen gnu; and, directly after, another and another came into sight, sailing heavily along upon its great dusky flapping wings.It seemed as if telegrams had been sent in all directions to the vultures’ roosting-places that there had been a wildebeeste slain; and it was so evident that, if steps were not taken to save it, the vultures would destroy the provisions of three or four days, that Mr Rogers rapidly blew twice upon his whistle—a preconcerted signal, which made the boys turn and go towards the game.As it was, a vulture would have reached the fallen animal before them but for a shot from Dick’s gun, which had the effect of more than scaring it as it was just alighting, for, evidently hit by the bullet, it flew a few yards, and then fell, flapping its wings for a few moments, and then lay still.This checked the others for the time, and Mr Rogers waited till the General should set the boys at liberty, when he meant to return to the waggon.

Watch was set in the usual manner, so that the fire might be well kept up, and after a good dry, and a hearty meal—such a one as is made by those who have toiled all day in the open air—those who were at liberty so to do soon sought their blankets, and slept soundly and well.

To Dick and Jack it seemed that they had only just lain down, when there was a firm hand laid upon them, and they were awakened by the General, who signed to them in the grey morning light to get up.

They crept out of the waggon yawning, but that sign of slothfulness was soon chased away, and their father joining them, they took their guns and followed the General, leaving Dinny with orders to wake the boys, and to get breakfast ready by their return.

“Where are we going, father?” asked Dick.

“I can’t say, my boy. The Zulu awakened me as he did you. He has something to show us, I suppose.”

Their way lay up a woodland slope, where the trees had a park-like aspect, and beneath their shade it was still quite dim, but here and there they caught glimpses of the sky, which was flecked with little clouds of orange, and vermilion, and gold, while the light was rapidly growing in the east.

The General went on rapidly, as if quite sure of his route, and it seemed that the point at which he was aiming was the highest part of a ridge.

And so it proved, for when he had reached the summit the Zulu chief walked cautiously along for a short distance, and then stopped and stooped down, motioning to those who followed to do the same.

They obeyed him implicitly, preparing their pieces at the same time. Then creeping up to him cautiously, they found that they were on a ridge looking down into a widespread valley, flooded with the light of the approaching sunrise.

It was a glorious scene, and worth all the trouble and patience of their long journey to see. It was almost breathlessly that they gazed at the broad, grassy valley, with its clumps of trees, patches of wood, and portions dotted with masses of rock, whose tops were bathed in the amber morning tints, while in the direction where the little party gazed the shadows of tree and stone lay dark.

Facing them in the east the clouds were now gorgeous in their hues, one layer forming a grand arch of light, towards which darted upwards the rays of the coming sun.

But it was not only the sunrise that was glorious in the extreme, nor the beauty of the broad valley that held the spectators’ eyes, but the occupants of the scene below.

The General had undertaken to guide them to what he called the great game country, and he had kept his word. For below them—to right, to left, and away towards the golden burst of glory where the sun was about to rise—the land was literally alive with game.

Down to their right spread broad marshy lagoon after lagoon, in which swam, dived or waded, countless ducks and crane. Here, writhing its snaky neck and curious head and beak, was the flamingo, all white and rose; there, soft grey cranes and others, with a lovely crest, as if in imitation of the rays of the rising sun.

But it was not the wondrous variety of birds alone that took their attention, but the large game, feeding, gambolling, and careering in countless herds. To the left were zebras, and beyond some quaggas, or wild asses, the peculiar bray or cry ofquay-gah!quay-gah! reaching to their ears. On their right there were gnus, or wildebeestes, as the Boers called them, brindled and the blue—curiously fierce-looking little animals, partaking both of the character of the deer and the buffalo. Some grazed placidly in the morning light, others were engaged in tilting at each other with their horns, while their companions looked on as if waiting for their turn; and every now and then the sound of the striking horns ascended to the woody ridge with a loud crash.

But while these creatures contended together, groups of antelopes were dotted here and there, while others careered at lightning speed over the plain.

The sight was wonderful, and the boys felt as if they would never tire of watching the evolutions of the graceful creatures, which, with their skins glistening and horns looking golden in the morning light, seemed to be going through a series of military evolutions with the greatest precision.

“Koodoo, pronghorn,” said Mr Rogers, looking at the herd through his glass. “There are a dozen elands too,” he continued, and then passed the glass to his sons.

“Oh, this is grand,” cried Dick enthusiastically. “I could stay here for ever watching the graceful creatures.”

“So could I,” said Jack, after breakfast. “I say, father, hadn’t we better shoot something—the stock’s getting low?”

“Yes,” said Mr Rogers quietly; and he longed to go himself and bring down a good fat buck for the replenishment of the larder; but the expedition was for his sons, and he gave place to them. “Now, Dick,” he continued, “here is a chance for you to try and stalk one of those hartebeestes; or better still, a nice fat antelope. Pick out one with a fine head of horns, and then aim straight at the shoulder, and be sure and bring him down.”

“At what distance would you fire, father?” asked Dick.

“I’d get as close as I could, my boy, but I’d fire at six or seven hundred yards sooner than miss a shot. Now go!”

Dick crept off, his father giving him a warning word about not losing his way, but to impress the land-marks upon his memory, so as to recognise them if he went astray.

As he disappeared down the valley side of the slope, Mr Rogers turned to Jack.

“Well, my boy, would you like a try as well?”

Jack’s whole face, as well as his tongue, said yes, and Mr Rogers smilingly pointed down into the valley, in the other direction.

“Be careful,” he said, “and don’t fire either in our direction or in your brother’s, for a rifle-bullet flies far.”

“All right, father,” cried Jack; and he too crept down the slope from bush to bush, to try and stalk one of the bok that came nearest to the clump of wood upon his right.

“So this is the game country?” said Mr Rogers.

“Yes, boss, this the game country, but only bit outside. I show you big game yet—elephant, lion, all the big animal, only wait.”

Mr Rogers was ready to set self aside in every way in his efforts to educate his sons, so he took out his glass and sat down beside the General, watching the various herds of wild animals in the glowing morning light, and thinking how grateful he ought to be to see his boys daily growing in health, strength, and confidence. For it was unmistakable; Dick, the weak, half-consumptive lad, was altering rapidly, and the anxious father’s heart rejoiced as the dark shadow that had hovered over his life seemed to be chased away.

As he sat there thinking, and bringing his glass to bear upon the various herds, while waiting for them to take the alarm, he could not help feeling that Dick and Jack were managing uncommonly well to have gone on so long without alarming the game. It showed thoughtfulness, and ability in the hunter’s craft; not, of course, that he wished them to turn out hunters, but he believed in thoroughness, and he used to say that if it was only play it ought to be done well.

He was letting the glass rest upon his knees, with his eyes running dreamily over the landscape, when he became aware of the fact that the Zulu was watching him intently, as he sat there with a couple of assegais across his knees.

“I am sorry I was so unjust to him that night,” thought Mr Rogers. “It is a pity one’s nature prompts one to be so hasty and suspicious.”

Then as his eyes met those of the General, as it was fast becoming the custom to call him, he cudgelled his brains for some way of showing his confidence in him, who was so completely their guide.

Suddenly a soft smile beamed on the Zulu’s fierce countenance, and he said gently,—

“Boss thinking about his boys. Fine brave boys; make big warriors and chiefs. Zulu wish his boys here too. Love his boys same as white man.”

Mr Rogers stretched out his hand to the Zulu on the instant, for he had touched the chord of their common humanity, and white man and black man, as their hands joined in one firm grip, felt that henceforth they would be friends who could trust each other to the end.

“Look!” cried the Zulu suddenly; and he pointed down into the plain, where the alarm had been taken in the direction taken by Dick.

Antelopes that had been feeding, suddenly threw up their heads and galloped together, seeming to form square—first with horns outward to resist attack; then they reformed, and charged in one direction; halted, turned, and charged in another—as if alarmed, and yet not knowing which way to go.

The wildebeestes that had been fighting stopped, erected their tails, pawed the ground, and then, throwing their heads side-wise, began to plough it with one horn, but only to snort loudly and tear over the plain; while the zebras and quaggas began to toss their heads and tear about over the grassy wild, kicking and plunging, and scattering the light antelopes like the wind.

Suddenly there was a puff of smoke from a clump of bushes quite a mile away, and after an interval the faint crack of a rifle.

“That’s Dick’s gun, General,” said Mr Rogers, bringing his glass to bear upon a little herd of antelopes that must have formed the object of the shot; but not one of them fell, neither did either of them seem to be lamed.

“Miss, this time,” said the General, quietly.

Just then there was another report, evidently a shot at long range; but the only effect was to drive the game more in the direction of Jack’s position, or what they supposed to be Jack’s position.

Seeing then that Dick was not likely to get another shot, Mr Rogers turned his glass in the other direction; but there was nothing to see but the great herds of game, going more and more towards a clump of timber—trees that were of glorious shades of green in the morning sun. But, all at once, as a troop of gnus were trotting by, three or four large birds came rushing out, as if alarmed, and the gnus took fright, tearing off at a frantic pace. But before they had gone far there was a white puff of smoke from the end of the clump.

“Well done!” cried Mr Rogers. “He did well to get so far. But it is another miss. We must not depend on the boys yet for our dinners.”

The whole plain seemed to be now alive, and herd after herd of game, that had been hidden from them by the trees, had rushed into sight, and was now careering onward, and away from the dangerous proximity to the woods.

“Poor boys! All their trouble for nothing,” said Mr Rogers, closing his glass. “I wish I had gone too. I might have hit something.”

“Boss Jack has hit,” said the Zulu, pointing.

And just then, to the father’s great delight, he saw one of the curious antelopes suddenly stop short, the rest of the herd galloping onwards. Then it shook its head, turned, and seemed giddily to gallop back, and finally fell dead.

Almost at the same moment they saw Jack run out from the clump of timber, gun in one hand, cap in the other, which latter he began to wave frantically above his head.

“Well done, boy! A good shot,” cried Mr Rogers. “Ah, there’s Dick.”

For Dick now showed himself, a mile away to the left, and began to cross the open to join his brother, whose success he must have seen.

“The next thing is to get the game home,” said Mr Rogers. “We’ll go back, and send Peter and Dirk.”

He placed a shrill little whistle to his lips as he spoke, and as its piercing note rang out, the boys, who had been making for the fallen gnu, turned to come back.

“I’ll go!” said the General. “Mustn’t leave the game. Look, boss.”

He pointed, and in the distance there was a great vulture winging its way towards the fallen gnu; and, directly after, another and another came into sight, sailing heavily along upon its great dusky flapping wings.

It seemed as if telegrams had been sent in all directions to the vultures’ roosting-places that there had been a wildebeeste slain; and it was so evident that, if steps were not taken to save it, the vultures would destroy the provisions of three or four days, that Mr Rogers rapidly blew twice upon his whistle—a preconcerted signal, which made the boys turn and go towards the game.

As it was, a vulture would have reached the fallen animal before them but for a shot from Dick’s gun, which had the effect of more than scaring it as it was just alighting, for, evidently hit by the bullet, it flew a few yards, and then fell, flapping its wings for a few moments, and then lay still.

This checked the others for the time, and Mr Rogers waited till the General should set the boys at liberty, when he meant to return to the waggon.

Chapter Eleven.Getting into Work.It seemed some little time before the Zulu appeared at the bottom of the slope; but when he emerged from the woods, Mr Rogers could see that he had been cutting some sticks, and on bringing the glass to bear he made out that the Zulu was straightening them as he ran.The boys saw him coming, and waved their caps; while, when the General joined them, they all bent over the game together, the Zulu apparently being very busy, and making Mr Rogers impatient, for he wanted to get back to breakfast, which must then be ready.“There is some reason for it, I dare say,” said Mr Rogers, gazing through his glass. “Why, they are all coming away! The animal will be devoured. It is bad, perhaps.”He waited patiently, seeing the little party return; and as they left the fallen gnu he saw the vultures come dropping down from the trees where they had been waiting, till there were over twenty by the game, round which they formed a circle, but they did not approach near.“Strange!” thought Mr Rogers. “I wonder they don’t tear it up. Perhaps it is still alive. If so they ought to have put the poor thing out of its misery. I shall speak sharply to Master Dick about such wanton cruelty.”Mr Rogers wanted his breakfast, and, as he had had no excitement, he felt cross, so that it seemed as if the boys would get what Jack irreverently called a wigging. But the sight of his sons’ bright excited faces as they ran up the slope, drove away his ill-humour.“Why, Dick!” he cried, “how you run!”“Do I, father?” cried the boy, excitedly, “But did you see what a splendid shot Jack made? I missed twice, but he brought his gnu down. It’s a fine young bull.”“Then you are not jealous of his luck?” said his father.“Oh, no,” laughed Dick. “It will be my turn next time.”“Bravo, Jack!” cried Mr Rogers. “But why did you leave the game to the vultures? Dick says it was a fine young bull.”“Oh, it’s all right, father,” cried Jack, who now ran panting up to his father’s side. “The General has cut it up partly, and has brought the liver and kidneys, and a bit or two to cook for breakfast.”“But it was a pity to leave so much good meat, my boys; I don’t like wanton waste.”“But it’s all right, father,” said Dick. “The General has stuck some pieces of wood round and over it, and he says the vultures won’t go near it for hours, for fear it should be a trap.”Mr Rogers opened his glass, and looked at the fallen game; and sure enough there sat the vultures in a ring, contemplating the sticks that the General had stuck up round it, but not one went near.The Zulu smiled as he came up, bearing the delicate portions of the gnu skewered upon one of his assegais; and hurrying back to the camp, Peter and Dirk were given full directions which way to go, and sent off with three oxen, and a roughly-contrived carriage for the game formed by cutting down a great forked branch of a tree to attach to the oxen yokes. But when ready for starting they suggested the advisability of their having guns, which being supplied, they started off, looking rather longingly though at the preparations for breakfast.A good fire was burning, and coffee was made, Dinny looking very disconsolate and miserable; but the sight of the fresh meat seemed to do him good, for a broad grin expanded his features, and getting the frying-pan out of the box that held the cooking apparatus, he soon had some savoury morsels peppered, salted, and sputtering on the fire.“I feel as if I could eat heaps,” said Jack. “Oh, I say, father, isn’t breakfast lovely out here under these green trees?”Mr Rogers agreed that it was; and certainly nothing could have been more glorious than the scene—the deep blue sky, the glorious sunshine, the bright green of the trees, the chirping, whistling, and screaming of the birds that thronged the brambles, and above all the delicious fragrance of the endless flowering shrubs and flowers.It was all enjoyable in the extreme, the abundant breakfast adding wonderfully to the pleasure. Even the oxen and horses seemed perfectly happy, for there was an abundance of short, sweet grass for them to crop, while the little Zulu party seemed happiness itself.A goodly portion of the gnu had been given over to the General, and despising the frying-pan, he and his boys toasted the pieces of flesh in the fire, and ate them hissing hot; the effect upon Coffee being that he did nothing but grin, and rub the portion of his brown person which he called his “tum-tum,” while his brother gave vent to his excitement and pleasure by either lying down and rolling himself over and over, or else by trying to stand upon his head, a very agreeable style of acrobatic trick, but decidedly inconvenient at breakfast-time.As, however, just when he had arrived at a perfect equilibrium, and had his heels straight up in the air, he overbalanced himself, and instead of coming back upon his toes he went over upon his heels, which he planted in the hot ashes, Chicory thought the performance had gone sufficiently far, and went on eating his breakfast in what Dinny called a more Chrishtanly-like way.Just as they had finished, and Jack had thoroughly recovered from a violent fit of coughing and choking, consequent upon seeing Chicory stick his heels in the fire, while he—Jack—was drinking his coffee, there came from behind them the crack of a whip, and Peter’s harsh voice shouting, “Trek, boys! trek!” accompanied by the rustling, scrambling noise made by a great branch being drawn over the ground; and directly after the slow, patient oxen came into sight, chewing away at their cuds, as they used their tails to whisk away the flies, and dragged Jack’s game into camp.It proved to be a splendid young gnu, and the boys examined with curiosity its shaggy head, with its curiously bent down and curved up horns, and general likeness to horse, antelope, and bull, as if it were related to each. Then the Zulu, with Dirk’s help, rapidly skinned it; portions were set apart for immediate use, some of the best cut up in strips by the General, and hung in the sun upon the bushes to form what is called “biltong,” that is, strips of sun-dried meat, the sun baking it up so quickly that it has not time to go bad, and the rest was left for another fate.For it was most amusing to watch the dogs, sitting all four in a row, hungrily looking at the skinning and cutting up of the gnu. They watched with the most intense interest the whole process, following the General to and fro, and thankfully swallowing any scraps he threw them.When the skin was taken off and spread upon the waggon-tilt to dry, Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus followed, as if to see that it was properly spread out, Rough’un being the only one who protested against the plan, for his look plainly said that he wanted to lick that skin on the fleshy side; and as he was not allowed to go through that process, he kept uttering low, dissatisfied whines, to Jack’s great delight; while, when he saw Peter climb up, and Dirk hand him the skin, he uttered a yell of disappointment at what he evidently considered to be the waste of so much good fat.This yell from Rough’un had its effects upon Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, which triumvirate did not behave at all after the manner of the stolid, patient, noble Romans whose names they bore; but one and all set up their noses as high as they could, getting mouth and throat in a direct line, and sang a trio—but so dolefully out of tune, that Dinny picked up the General’s assegai, and gave each one a tap on the head with the handle.At least he meant to do so. He certainly hit Pompey and Caesar sounding cracks; but Crassus made a movement, and received his blow on the neck—so unfair a place, he evidently supposed, that it roused his temper, and he snapped at and seized the handle of the assegai in his teeth.Now Dinny’s hands were greasy with helping to skin the gnu, and the handle of the assegai kept slipping through his fingers, and threatening to cut them against the blade; to avoid which, as the dog tugged fiercely and dragged at the handle, Dinny kept taking a fresh hold hand over hand, as if he were hauling rope, abusing the dog at the same time.“Ah, get out, ye dirty baste,” he cried. “Let go, will ye?”Worry!worry!worry! growled Crassus, holding on with all his might of jaw, which was really great; and seeing the successful effort made by their companion, Pompey and Caesar began to bark and bay at Dinny on either side of Crassus.“Oh, here’s a game, Dick!” cried Jack, holding his sides and laughing.“Call ’em off, will ye?” cried Dinny. “Ah, get out, ye dirty, yelping bastes.”“Serve you right, for hitting them in that cruel way,” said Dick cynically; while seeing the fun, as they seemed to consider it, Coffee and Chicory each seized his kiri, and began to perform a war-dance round Dinny and the dogs.“Lave go, will ye?” cried Dinny to Crassus. “Sure it’s a taste of the other end I’ll be giving ye dreckerly.”Crassus evidently believed him, for he held on all the tighter. Dinny dragged hard, but the dog’s jaws had closed upon the wood like a steel trap, and though Dinny dragged him here and there, he did not leave go; and so sure as the man began to obtain a little advantage, Pompey and Caesar made such a desperate attack upon his rear that he immediately lost ground, and the French and English tug-of-war continued, the dogs barking, Dinny abusing them, and the boys, black as well as white, shouting with delight.This was very good fun for the latter, but anything but pleasant for Dinny. In fact, so bad was his case, and so threatening the aspect of the dogs, that any one who would have insured the legs of Dinny’s trousers from being torn by the dogs, would have been guilty of a very insane act, especially as Rough’un, after sitting up on end encouraging Crassus to hold on to the assegai staff by a loud bark now and then, suddenly took it into his head to join in the fray.For Dinny had not been particularly friendly to him since they started. Upon one occasion Dinny had tickled him—so he called it—with Peter’s whip, the tickling consisting in giving the dog so severe a flick that it seemed like taking out a piece of the flesh; while no later than that morning Rough’un felt that he had been misused in the matter of the skin that he wanted to lick.So, unable to bear matters any longer, Rough’un, who had momentarily grown more excited, suddenly made an open-mouthed onslaught upon the assegai stock.“Carl him off, Masther Dick, Masther Jack. Oh, murther, what’ll I do. Ah! get out—get—”Dinny said no more, but loosed his hold of the assegai, and fled, leaping on to the front box of the waggon, and then climbing in beneath the tilt, while the dogs chased him, barking and baying him furiously.This did not last, however, for the denuding of the gnu’s bones was pretty well ended, and one of the oxen dragged the remains into the forest, when the dogs were called up, and Dinny was forgotten.

It seemed some little time before the Zulu appeared at the bottom of the slope; but when he emerged from the woods, Mr Rogers could see that he had been cutting some sticks, and on bringing the glass to bear he made out that the Zulu was straightening them as he ran.

The boys saw him coming, and waved their caps; while, when the General joined them, they all bent over the game together, the Zulu apparently being very busy, and making Mr Rogers impatient, for he wanted to get back to breakfast, which must then be ready.

“There is some reason for it, I dare say,” said Mr Rogers, gazing through his glass. “Why, they are all coming away! The animal will be devoured. It is bad, perhaps.”

He waited patiently, seeing the little party return; and as they left the fallen gnu he saw the vultures come dropping down from the trees where they had been waiting, till there were over twenty by the game, round which they formed a circle, but they did not approach near.

“Strange!” thought Mr Rogers. “I wonder they don’t tear it up. Perhaps it is still alive. If so they ought to have put the poor thing out of its misery. I shall speak sharply to Master Dick about such wanton cruelty.”

Mr Rogers wanted his breakfast, and, as he had had no excitement, he felt cross, so that it seemed as if the boys would get what Jack irreverently called a wigging. But the sight of his sons’ bright excited faces as they ran up the slope, drove away his ill-humour.

“Why, Dick!” he cried, “how you run!”

“Do I, father?” cried the boy, excitedly, “But did you see what a splendid shot Jack made? I missed twice, but he brought his gnu down. It’s a fine young bull.”

“Then you are not jealous of his luck?” said his father.

“Oh, no,” laughed Dick. “It will be my turn next time.”

“Bravo, Jack!” cried Mr Rogers. “But why did you leave the game to the vultures? Dick says it was a fine young bull.”

“Oh, it’s all right, father,” cried Jack, who now ran panting up to his father’s side. “The General has cut it up partly, and has brought the liver and kidneys, and a bit or two to cook for breakfast.”

“But it was a pity to leave so much good meat, my boys; I don’t like wanton waste.”

“But it’s all right, father,” said Dick. “The General has stuck some pieces of wood round and over it, and he says the vultures won’t go near it for hours, for fear it should be a trap.”

Mr Rogers opened his glass, and looked at the fallen game; and sure enough there sat the vultures in a ring, contemplating the sticks that the General had stuck up round it, but not one went near.

The Zulu smiled as he came up, bearing the delicate portions of the gnu skewered upon one of his assegais; and hurrying back to the camp, Peter and Dirk were given full directions which way to go, and sent off with three oxen, and a roughly-contrived carriage for the game formed by cutting down a great forked branch of a tree to attach to the oxen yokes. But when ready for starting they suggested the advisability of their having guns, which being supplied, they started off, looking rather longingly though at the preparations for breakfast.

A good fire was burning, and coffee was made, Dinny looking very disconsolate and miserable; but the sight of the fresh meat seemed to do him good, for a broad grin expanded his features, and getting the frying-pan out of the box that held the cooking apparatus, he soon had some savoury morsels peppered, salted, and sputtering on the fire.

“I feel as if I could eat heaps,” said Jack. “Oh, I say, father, isn’t breakfast lovely out here under these green trees?”

Mr Rogers agreed that it was; and certainly nothing could have been more glorious than the scene—the deep blue sky, the glorious sunshine, the bright green of the trees, the chirping, whistling, and screaming of the birds that thronged the brambles, and above all the delicious fragrance of the endless flowering shrubs and flowers.

It was all enjoyable in the extreme, the abundant breakfast adding wonderfully to the pleasure. Even the oxen and horses seemed perfectly happy, for there was an abundance of short, sweet grass for them to crop, while the little Zulu party seemed happiness itself.

A goodly portion of the gnu had been given over to the General, and despising the frying-pan, he and his boys toasted the pieces of flesh in the fire, and ate them hissing hot; the effect upon Coffee being that he did nothing but grin, and rub the portion of his brown person which he called his “tum-tum,” while his brother gave vent to his excitement and pleasure by either lying down and rolling himself over and over, or else by trying to stand upon his head, a very agreeable style of acrobatic trick, but decidedly inconvenient at breakfast-time.

As, however, just when he had arrived at a perfect equilibrium, and had his heels straight up in the air, he overbalanced himself, and instead of coming back upon his toes he went over upon his heels, which he planted in the hot ashes, Chicory thought the performance had gone sufficiently far, and went on eating his breakfast in what Dinny called a more Chrishtanly-like way.

Just as they had finished, and Jack had thoroughly recovered from a violent fit of coughing and choking, consequent upon seeing Chicory stick his heels in the fire, while he—Jack—was drinking his coffee, there came from behind them the crack of a whip, and Peter’s harsh voice shouting, “Trek, boys! trek!” accompanied by the rustling, scrambling noise made by a great branch being drawn over the ground; and directly after the slow, patient oxen came into sight, chewing away at their cuds, as they used their tails to whisk away the flies, and dragged Jack’s game into camp.

It proved to be a splendid young gnu, and the boys examined with curiosity its shaggy head, with its curiously bent down and curved up horns, and general likeness to horse, antelope, and bull, as if it were related to each. Then the Zulu, with Dirk’s help, rapidly skinned it; portions were set apart for immediate use, some of the best cut up in strips by the General, and hung in the sun upon the bushes to form what is called “biltong,” that is, strips of sun-dried meat, the sun baking it up so quickly that it has not time to go bad, and the rest was left for another fate.

For it was most amusing to watch the dogs, sitting all four in a row, hungrily looking at the skinning and cutting up of the gnu. They watched with the most intense interest the whole process, following the General to and fro, and thankfully swallowing any scraps he threw them.

When the skin was taken off and spread upon the waggon-tilt to dry, Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus followed, as if to see that it was properly spread out, Rough’un being the only one who protested against the plan, for his look plainly said that he wanted to lick that skin on the fleshy side; and as he was not allowed to go through that process, he kept uttering low, dissatisfied whines, to Jack’s great delight; while, when he saw Peter climb up, and Dirk hand him the skin, he uttered a yell of disappointment at what he evidently considered to be the waste of so much good fat.

This yell from Rough’un had its effects upon Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus, which triumvirate did not behave at all after the manner of the stolid, patient, noble Romans whose names they bore; but one and all set up their noses as high as they could, getting mouth and throat in a direct line, and sang a trio—but so dolefully out of tune, that Dinny picked up the General’s assegai, and gave each one a tap on the head with the handle.

At least he meant to do so. He certainly hit Pompey and Caesar sounding cracks; but Crassus made a movement, and received his blow on the neck—so unfair a place, he evidently supposed, that it roused his temper, and he snapped at and seized the handle of the assegai in his teeth.

Now Dinny’s hands were greasy with helping to skin the gnu, and the handle of the assegai kept slipping through his fingers, and threatening to cut them against the blade; to avoid which, as the dog tugged fiercely and dragged at the handle, Dinny kept taking a fresh hold hand over hand, as if he were hauling rope, abusing the dog at the same time.

“Ah, get out, ye dirty baste,” he cried. “Let go, will ye?”

Worry!worry!worry! growled Crassus, holding on with all his might of jaw, which was really great; and seeing the successful effort made by their companion, Pompey and Caesar began to bark and bay at Dinny on either side of Crassus.

“Oh, here’s a game, Dick!” cried Jack, holding his sides and laughing.

“Call ’em off, will ye?” cried Dinny. “Ah, get out, ye dirty, yelping bastes.”

“Serve you right, for hitting them in that cruel way,” said Dick cynically; while seeing the fun, as they seemed to consider it, Coffee and Chicory each seized his kiri, and began to perform a war-dance round Dinny and the dogs.

“Lave go, will ye?” cried Dinny to Crassus. “Sure it’s a taste of the other end I’ll be giving ye dreckerly.”

Crassus evidently believed him, for he held on all the tighter. Dinny dragged hard, but the dog’s jaws had closed upon the wood like a steel trap, and though Dinny dragged him here and there, he did not leave go; and so sure as the man began to obtain a little advantage, Pompey and Caesar made such a desperate attack upon his rear that he immediately lost ground, and the French and English tug-of-war continued, the dogs barking, Dinny abusing them, and the boys, black as well as white, shouting with delight.

This was very good fun for the latter, but anything but pleasant for Dinny. In fact, so bad was his case, and so threatening the aspect of the dogs, that any one who would have insured the legs of Dinny’s trousers from being torn by the dogs, would have been guilty of a very insane act, especially as Rough’un, after sitting up on end encouraging Crassus to hold on to the assegai staff by a loud bark now and then, suddenly took it into his head to join in the fray.

For Dinny had not been particularly friendly to him since they started. Upon one occasion Dinny had tickled him—so he called it—with Peter’s whip, the tickling consisting in giving the dog so severe a flick that it seemed like taking out a piece of the flesh; while no later than that morning Rough’un felt that he had been misused in the matter of the skin that he wanted to lick.

So, unable to bear matters any longer, Rough’un, who had momentarily grown more excited, suddenly made an open-mouthed onslaught upon the assegai stock.

“Carl him off, Masther Dick, Masther Jack. Oh, murther, what’ll I do. Ah! get out—get—”

Dinny said no more, but loosed his hold of the assegai, and fled, leaping on to the front box of the waggon, and then climbing in beneath the tilt, while the dogs chased him, barking and baying him furiously.

This did not last, however, for the denuding of the gnu’s bones was pretty well ended, and one of the oxen dragged the remains into the forest, when the dogs were called up, and Dinny was forgotten.

Chapter Twelve.A Buffalo Run.The General owned that there would be good hunting here, but he wanted to get the party well into the interior, where, taking up a central position, they could make excursions in any direction according to the way in which the game lay. If they stayed where they were, all they would do would be to drive the game away, and it would grow more scarce.The boys were as eager as the General, and looking upon the interior as a land of mystery and romance, they readily backed up the proposal to go farther.“Well, my boys, I hardly know what to say,” replied Mr Rogers. “I want for you both to grow sturdy, manly, and inured to danger; but I scarcely like running the risk of taking you where we may be constantly encountering the lion, the rhinoceros, and the elephant and hippopotamus.”“But we shall be very careful,” said Jack.“And we are growing better marksmen every day, father,” exclaimed Dick.“Yes, my boys, I dare say you are,” replied Mr Rogers. “But please remember that taking aim at and shooting a timid deer is one thing; standing face to face with some fierce beast ready to take your life, quite another.”“Oh, yes, father, I know that,” said Jack; “and I dare say I should be horribly frightened, but I wouldn’t run away.”“It might be wiser to do so than to provoke the animal by firing,” said Mr Rogers, smiling. “What do you say, Dick?”“I say I should like to go on, father, in spite of the risk,” replied Dick. “Now we have come so far, I want to see more of the wonderful Central African land, and I should like to shoot a lion, an elephant, a rhinoceros, and a hippopotamus.”“And a giraffe, a crocodile, and a boa-constrictor,” said Jack.“And would you both like to make that bag in one day, young gentlemen?” said Mr Rogers, smiling.“Ah, now you are laughing at us, father,” said Dick. “Of course we don’t expect to shoot all those creatures, but we should like to try.”“Yes,” added Jack; “that’s it, Dick. We should like to try.”“Then you shall try,” said Mr Rogers, quietly; “on condition, mind, that you will neither of you do anything rash, but follow out either my advice or that of the General, whom I feel disposed to trust more and more.”The country seemed to grow more romantic and grand the farther they trekked on away from civilisation, and they travelled now very few hundred yards without seeing something new and full of interest. Game was so abundant that there was no difficulty in keeping up a plentiful supply. Dinny even threatened to lose the frying-pan, for, as he said, he was frying steak morning, noon, and night; but as he loved dearly to fry one particularly juicy piece always for a gentleman named Dinny, there was not much fear of his keeping his word.But somehow Dinny did not add to the harmony of the expedition. He proved himself again and again to be an arrant coward; and, coward-like, he tried to tyrannise over the weaker.He was afraid of the General; and when, upon one or two occasions, he had quarrelled with Peter or Dirk, those gentlemen had displayed so much pugnacity that Dinny had prudently resolved to quarrel with them no more. He, however, made up for this by pouring out his virulence upon Coffee and Chicory, the dogs having been too much for him; and the Zulu boys bore it all in silence, but evidently meant to remember Dinny’s behaviour when the time came.One day, soon after entering the game country, the General, who was on ahead alternately scanning the horizon and the ground, while the oxen slowly lumbered on behind, suddenly stopped, and began to examine some footprints in a marshy piece of ground which he had just told Dick to avoid.“What is it?” said Dick, coming up.“Look,” said the General, pointing to the great footprints.“Why, it looks as if a great cat had been here,” said Dick.“Yes; great cat; lion!” said the Zulu.And when Mr Rogers and Jack had cantered up, and seen the spoor, as such footprints were generally termed in South Africa, they knew that there would be real danger now hovering about their nightly camps.That afternoon, as they were passing through a woody portion of the country, Chicory, who was well ahead, assegai in hand, eagerly looking out for game, was heard suddenly to yell out as if in agony; and as all ran to his help, he was found to be rolling on the ground, shrieking the native word for “Snake! snake!”Mr Rogers was the first to reach him, being mounted, and as he drew rein by the prostrate boy, he saw a long thin snake gliding away.He was just in time, and leaning forward he took rapid aim with his fowling-piece; and as the smoke rose, a long thin ash-coloured snake was seen writhing, mortally wounded, upon the ground.The General caught the boy by the shoulder, and proceeded to divide his jet-black hair, examining his scalp carefully, but without finding any trace of a wound; though Chicory declared that he was killed, and that the snake had seized him by the head as he was going under a tree.He had felt it, and when he threw himself forward to avoid it, the creature writhed and twisted about his neck, till in his horror he rolled over and over, partly crushing the reptile, which was making its escape when Mr Rogers’s gun put an end to its power of doing mischief.The General having satisfied himself that his boy was not hurt, sent him forward with a cuff on the ear, before giving his master a grateful look for destroying a virulently poisonous serpent—one, he assured them, whose regular practice was to hang suspended by the tail from some low branch, and in this position to strike at any living creature that passed beneath.“He would have been dead now,” said the General, “if the snake’s teeth had gone through his hair.”It was with no little satisfaction then, after this adventure, that the hunting-party passed through the woody region they were then in, and came into the open, for during the last few hours everybody’s eyes had been diligently directed at the overhanging branches of the trees, Dinny being so observant that he two or three times tripped over prostrate boughs, and went down upon his nose.As they passed out into the open they were in a rough plain, covered as far as they could see with coarse herbage; and hardly had the waggon emerged before Mr Rogers, who was using his glass, drew the General’s attention to some dark objects upon a slope some distance ahead.The Zulu glanced at the dark shapes for a few moments, and then cried eagerly,—“Buffalo!”“Come along, Dick,” shouted Jack.“Stop, stop!” exclaimed their father. “What are you going to do?”“Shoot a buffalo, father.”“If we can,” added Dick.“But you must be careful. These buffalo are pretty fierce creatures, and dangerous at times.”“Yes, very dangerous,” assented the Zulu. “Boss Jack—Boss Dick shoot one, and the boys drive one to him.”The General undertaking to do his best to keep his sons out of danger, Mr Rogers consented to let them go; and soon afterwards, having made his plans, the General started off with his boys, pointing out a course for Jack and Dick to take upon their cobs, advising them both to fire at the same buffalo as it galloped past them, and then to keep hidden till the herd had gone by.This they undertook to do; and away they cantered in one direction, the General and his boys going in another, so as to get ahead of the herd, and then show themselves, and that, they expected, would drive them towards the young hunters.All turned out exactly as anticipated. Dick and Jack sat like statues, in a low hollow, with rifles cocked, and cartridges handy for a second shot, waiting for the coming of the herd; and at last, just as they had given up all expectation of seeing them, there was a low rushing sound in the distance as of wind—then a roar, ever increasing, until it was like thunder; and then down came the vast herd of heavy animals, surprising the boys at first by their number, so that they had nearly all gone by before either of the brothers thought of firing.Dick was the first to rouse himself from his surprise.“Now then, Jack,” he cried, as their horses stood motionless, watching the passing drove; “fire at that slate-coloured bull. Now then, take aim together—fire!”The two rifle-shots pealed almost like one, and, to the delight of the boys, they saw the young bull they had shot stagger forward on to its knees, and then roll over upon its side.“Hurray! First buffalo!” cried Jack; and together the boys cantered out into the plain, when, to their intense astonishment, instead of the herd continuing its flight, about a dozen bulls stopped short, stared at them, pawed the ground, stuck up their tails, wheeled round, uttered a fierce roar, and charged.Even if the boys had felt disposed to meet their enemies with a couple more shots, the cobs would not have stood still. They were well-broken, and trusty; day by day they had seemed to gain confidence in their riders, and they would stand perfectly still if their bridles were drawn over their heads and allowed to trail upon the ground; while if Jack or Dick liked to make a rifle-rest of their backs, they were perfectly content, and stood as rigidly as if carved out of stone.But there are bounds even to the confidence of a horse. When the little steeds saw the fierce looks of the buffaloes, heard their angry bellowings, and found that with waving tails, menacing horns, and hoofs that seemed to thunder as they tore up the ground, the bulls were coming nearer and nearer, and evidently with the full intent of burying those sharp horns in their chests, Shoes and Stockings snorted violently, turned round so suddenly that had not Jack and Dick been excellent horsemen they would have been thrown, and tore away over the plain.This was a reverse of circumstances; and naturally feeling startled at such a change, their boys gave their horses their heads, sat well down, and kept giving furtive glances behind to see if the bulls were gaining upon them.At the end of a few moments, though, it occurred to Dick that their speed was greater than that of the buffaloes, and consequently that they would have no difficulty, failing accidents, in galloping away. Then he began to think of his rifle and ammunition, but felt that under the circumstances fire-arms were useless.Last of all he began to feel very much ashamed of his position, in being hunted like this.The same feeling seemed to have affected Jack, who looked at his brother as they raced on side by side.The consequence was that all of a sudden they both sat up more erect in their saddles, and took a pull at the reins, bringing Shoes and Stockings by degrees into a hand gallop, instead of theventre à terreprogress they were making before.“This won’t do,” cried Dick, as he glanced back to find thatthe bulls were still lumbering on behind them, snorting savagely, and shaking their horn-armed fronts.“No,” said Jack, “we are taking them right down on the waggon, and they’ll charge straight over the camp.”“Yes; let’s turn off to the left,” shouted Dick; and as if by one impulse they wheeled round to the left, and galloped on over the plain. “I tell you what,” he cried, as a happy idea struck him; “let’s wheel round to the right now.”“What for?” shouted back his brother.“So as to ride round and round the waggon in a circle. Father will bring one or two of them down.”For answer Jack wheeled to the right, and if the manoeuvre had been kept up it would have answered; but, as it happened, Mr Rogers had gone away from the waggon in search of some beautifully plumaged birds which had settled in the trees above the camp, and then gone on to a grove a mile or so away.The General and his boys were of course far away out on the plain, where they had been driving the buffalo, and therefore Dinny was the principal man in camp.He was busy with the frying-pan frizzling himself a venison steak, when, hearing the thunder of hoofs, he dropped the pan in the wood ashes, and stood staring with horror.“What’ll I do now?” he cried.Then a bright idea seized him, and pulling his knife from his belt, he dashed at the place where his enemies the dogs were tied up by stout thongs to the waggon-wheels, and divided them one by one.“There, ye bastes,” he cried, “be off and get tossed.” And as the dogs rushed off, delighted with their freedom, Dinny chose what he thought was the safest place in the camp, namely, the space between the four wheels beneath the waggon, and there lay down and wished himself back safely in his mother’s cabin.The dogs had been for some moments past tearing at their thongs to get away, so that no sooner were they freed than, barking and baying fiercely, they raced down after the buffaloes, and Dinny never did a better act in his life. Certainly it was prompted by cowardice; but it had its good fruits, for it was the saving of poor Dick’s life.The boys had galloped on as had been suggested, gradually inclining to the right, so that they drew the little herd of bulls into following them in a circle; and in this way they had nearly gone round the waggon at about a couple of hundred yards’ distance, wondering why their father did not shoot, when, all at once, just as the baying of the dogs reached their ears, Dick turned a piteous look at his brother.“I’m—I’m not strong, yet, Jack,” he faltered. “Ride on fast.”To Jack’s horror he saw his brother’s eyes close, and that he fell forward upon his horse’s neck; the next moment he had glided as it were out of his saddle, and fallen—his horse, from its good training, stopping short by his side.The buffaloes were only about thirty yards behind, and as Jack reined in, and turned to help his brother, the bulls lowered, their horns, and in another moment or two they would have been trampled and gored, perhaps killed; but just as the great shaggy animals were upon them, the dogs made their attack, Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus each seizing a bull by the lip, while Rough’un kept up a furious barking as he tore at the various animals’ heels.The effect was magical upon the buffaloes, which tossed their heads furiously in the air, and dislodging their assailants, turned and rushed off, with the dogs now biting their heels or leaping viciously at their flanks, all attack now being changed to flight.

The General owned that there would be good hunting here, but he wanted to get the party well into the interior, where, taking up a central position, they could make excursions in any direction according to the way in which the game lay. If they stayed where they were, all they would do would be to drive the game away, and it would grow more scarce.

The boys were as eager as the General, and looking upon the interior as a land of mystery and romance, they readily backed up the proposal to go farther.

“Well, my boys, I hardly know what to say,” replied Mr Rogers. “I want for you both to grow sturdy, manly, and inured to danger; but I scarcely like running the risk of taking you where we may be constantly encountering the lion, the rhinoceros, and the elephant and hippopotamus.”

“But we shall be very careful,” said Jack.

“And we are growing better marksmen every day, father,” exclaimed Dick.

“Yes, my boys, I dare say you are,” replied Mr Rogers. “But please remember that taking aim at and shooting a timid deer is one thing; standing face to face with some fierce beast ready to take your life, quite another.”

“Oh, yes, father, I know that,” said Jack; “and I dare say I should be horribly frightened, but I wouldn’t run away.”

“It might be wiser to do so than to provoke the animal by firing,” said Mr Rogers, smiling. “What do you say, Dick?”

“I say I should like to go on, father, in spite of the risk,” replied Dick. “Now we have come so far, I want to see more of the wonderful Central African land, and I should like to shoot a lion, an elephant, a rhinoceros, and a hippopotamus.”

“And a giraffe, a crocodile, and a boa-constrictor,” said Jack.

“And would you both like to make that bag in one day, young gentlemen?” said Mr Rogers, smiling.

“Ah, now you are laughing at us, father,” said Dick. “Of course we don’t expect to shoot all those creatures, but we should like to try.”

“Yes,” added Jack; “that’s it, Dick. We should like to try.”

“Then you shall try,” said Mr Rogers, quietly; “on condition, mind, that you will neither of you do anything rash, but follow out either my advice or that of the General, whom I feel disposed to trust more and more.”

The country seemed to grow more romantic and grand the farther they trekked on away from civilisation, and they travelled now very few hundred yards without seeing something new and full of interest. Game was so abundant that there was no difficulty in keeping up a plentiful supply. Dinny even threatened to lose the frying-pan, for, as he said, he was frying steak morning, noon, and night; but as he loved dearly to fry one particularly juicy piece always for a gentleman named Dinny, there was not much fear of his keeping his word.

But somehow Dinny did not add to the harmony of the expedition. He proved himself again and again to be an arrant coward; and, coward-like, he tried to tyrannise over the weaker.

He was afraid of the General; and when, upon one or two occasions, he had quarrelled with Peter or Dirk, those gentlemen had displayed so much pugnacity that Dinny had prudently resolved to quarrel with them no more. He, however, made up for this by pouring out his virulence upon Coffee and Chicory, the dogs having been too much for him; and the Zulu boys bore it all in silence, but evidently meant to remember Dinny’s behaviour when the time came.

One day, soon after entering the game country, the General, who was on ahead alternately scanning the horizon and the ground, while the oxen slowly lumbered on behind, suddenly stopped, and began to examine some footprints in a marshy piece of ground which he had just told Dick to avoid.

“What is it?” said Dick, coming up.

“Look,” said the General, pointing to the great footprints.

“Why, it looks as if a great cat had been here,” said Dick.

“Yes; great cat; lion!” said the Zulu.

And when Mr Rogers and Jack had cantered up, and seen the spoor, as such footprints were generally termed in South Africa, they knew that there would be real danger now hovering about their nightly camps.

That afternoon, as they were passing through a woody portion of the country, Chicory, who was well ahead, assegai in hand, eagerly looking out for game, was heard suddenly to yell out as if in agony; and as all ran to his help, he was found to be rolling on the ground, shrieking the native word for “Snake! snake!”

Mr Rogers was the first to reach him, being mounted, and as he drew rein by the prostrate boy, he saw a long thin snake gliding away.

He was just in time, and leaning forward he took rapid aim with his fowling-piece; and as the smoke rose, a long thin ash-coloured snake was seen writhing, mortally wounded, upon the ground.

The General caught the boy by the shoulder, and proceeded to divide his jet-black hair, examining his scalp carefully, but without finding any trace of a wound; though Chicory declared that he was killed, and that the snake had seized him by the head as he was going under a tree.

He had felt it, and when he threw himself forward to avoid it, the creature writhed and twisted about his neck, till in his horror he rolled over and over, partly crushing the reptile, which was making its escape when Mr Rogers’s gun put an end to its power of doing mischief.

The General having satisfied himself that his boy was not hurt, sent him forward with a cuff on the ear, before giving his master a grateful look for destroying a virulently poisonous serpent—one, he assured them, whose regular practice was to hang suspended by the tail from some low branch, and in this position to strike at any living creature that passed beneath.

“He would have been dead now,” said the General, “if the snake’s teeth had gone through his hair.”

It was with no little satisfaction then, after this adventure, that the hunting-party passed through the woody region they were then in, and came into the open, for during the last few hours everybody’s eyes had been diligently directed at the overhanging branches of the trees, Dinny being so observant that he two or three times tripped over prostrate boughs, and went down upon his nose.

As they passed out into the open they were in a rough plain, covered as far as they could see with coarse herbage; and hardly had the waggon emerged before Mr Rogers, who was using his glass, drew the General’s attention to some dark objects upon a slope some distance ahead.

The Zulu glanced at the dark shapes for a few moments, and then cried eagerly,—

“Buffalo!”

“Come along, Dick,” shouted Jack.

“Stop, stop!” exclaimed their father. “What are you going to do?”

“Shoot a buffalo, father.”

“If we can,” added Dick.

“But you must be careful. These buffalo are pretty fierce creatures, and dangerous at times.”

“Yes, very dangerous,” assented the Zulu. “Boss Jack—Boss Dick shoot one, and the boys drive one to him.”

The General undertaking to do his best to keep his sons out of danger, Mr Rogers consented to let them go; and soon afterwards, having made his plans, the General started off with his boys, pointing out a course for Jack and Dick to take upon their cobs, advising them both to fire at the same buffalo as it galloped past them, and then to keep hidden till the herd had gone by.

This they undertook to do; and away they cantered in one direction, the General and his boys going in another, so as to get ahead of the herd, and then show themselves, and that, they expected, would drive them towards the young hunters.

All turned out exactly as anticipated. Dick and Jack sat like statues, in a low hollow, with rifles cocked, and cartridges handy for a second shot, waiting for the coming of the herd; and at last, just as they had given up all expectation of seeing them, there was a low rushing sound in the distance as of wind—then a roar, ever increasing, until it was like thunder; and then down came the vast herd of heavy animals, surprising the boys at first by their number, so that they had nearly all gone by before either of the brothers thought of firing.

Dick was the first to rouse himself from his surprise.

“Now then, Jack,” he cried, as their horses stood motionless, watching the passing drove; “fire at that slate-coloured bull. Now then, take aim together—fire!”

The two rifle-shots pealed almost like one, and, to the delight of the boys, they saw the young bull they had shot stagger forward on to its knees, and then roll over upon its side.

“Hurray! First buffalo!” cried Jack; and together the boys cantered out into the plain, when, to their intense astonishment, instead of the herd continuing its flight, about a dozen bulls stopped short, stared at them, pawed the ground, stuck up their tails, wheeled round, uttered a fierce roar, and charged.

Even if the boys had felt disposed to meet their enemies with a couple more shots, the cobs would not have stood still. They were well-broken, and trusty; day by day they had seemed to gain confidence in their riders, and they would stand perfectly still if their bridles were drawn over their heads and allowed to trail upon the ground; while if Jack or Dick liked to make a rifle-rest of their backs, they were perfectly content, and stood as rigidly as if carved out of stone.

But there are bounds even to the confidence of a horse. When the little steeds saw the fierce looks of the buffaloes, heard their angry bellowings, and found that with waving tails, menacing horns, and hoofs that seemed to thunder as they tore up the ground, the bulls were coming nearer and nearer, and evidently with the full intent of burying those sharp horns in their chests, Shoes and Stockings snorted violently, turned round so suddenly that had not Jack and Dick been excellent horsemen they would have been thrown, and tore away over the plain.

This was a reverse of circumstances; and naturally feeling startled at such a change, their boys gave their horses their heads, sat well down, and kept giving furtive glances behind to see if the bulls were gaining upon them.

At the end of a few moments, though, it occurred to Dick that their speed was greater than that of the buffaloes, and consequently that they would have no difficulty, failing accidents, in galloping away. Then he began to think of his rifle and ammunition, but felt that under the circumstances fire-arms were useless.

Last of all he began to feel very much ashamed of his position, in being hunted like this.

The same feeling seemed to have affected Jack, who looked at his brother as they raced on side by side.

The consequence was that all of a sudden they both sat up more erect in their saddles, and took a pull at the reins, bringing Shoes and Stockings by degrees into a hand gallop, instead of theventre à terreprogress they were making before.

“This won’t do,” cried Dick, as he glanced back to find thatthe bulls were still lumbering on behind them, snorting savagely, and shaking their horn-armed fronts.

“No,” said Jack, “we are taking them right down on the waggon, and they’ll charge straight over the camp.”

“Yes; let’s turn off to the left,” shouted Dick; and as if by one impulse they wheeled round to the left, and galloped on over the plain. “I tell you what,” he cried, as a happy idea struck him; “let’s wheel round to the right now.”

“What for?” shouted back his brother.

“So as to ride round and round the waggon in a circle. Father will bring one or two of them down.”

For answer Jack wheeled to the right, and if the manoeuvre had been kept up it would have answered; but, as it happened, Mr Rogers had gone away from the waggon in search of some beautifully plumaged birds which had settled in the trees above the camp, and then gone on to a grove a mile or so away.

The General and his boys were of course far away out on the plain, where they had been driving the buffalo, and therefore Dinny was the principal man in camp.

He was busy with the frying-pan frizzling himself a venison steak, when, hearing the thunder of hoofs, he dropped the pan in the wood ashes, and stood staring with horror.

“What’ll I do now?” he cried.

Then a bright idea seized him, and pulling his knife from his belt, he dashed at the place where his enemies the dogs were tied up by stout thongs to the waggon-wheels, and divided them one by one.

“There, ye bastes,” he cried, “be off and get tossed.” And as the dogs rushed off, delighted with their freedom, Dinny chose what he thought was the safest place in the camp, namely, the space between the four wheels beneath the waggon, and there lay down and wished himself back safely in his mother’s cabin.

The dogs had been for some moments past tearing at their thongs to get away, so that no sooner were they freed than, barking and baying fiercely, they raced down after the buffaloes, and Dinny never did a better act in his life. Certainly it was prompted by cowardice; but it had its good fruits, for it was the saving of poor Dick’s life.

The boys had galloped on as had been suggested, gradually inclining to the right, so that they drew the little herd of bulls into following them in a circle; and in this way they had nearly gone round the waggon at about a couple of hundred yards’ distance, wondering why their father did not shoot, when, all at once, just as the baying of the dogs reached their ears, Dick turned a piteous look at his brother.

“I’m—I’m not strong, yet, Jack,” he faltered. “Ride on fast.”

To Jack’s horror he saw his brother’s eyes close, and that he fell forward upon his horse’s neck; the next moment he had glided as it were out of his saddle, and fallen—his horse, from its good training, stopping short by his side.

The buffaloes were only about thirty yards behind, and as Jack reined in, and turned to help his brother, the bulls lowered, their horns, and in another moment or two they would have been trampled and gored, perhaps killed; but just as the great shaggy animals were upon them, the dogs made their attack, Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus each seizing a bull by the lip, while Rough’un kept up a furious barking as he tore at the various animals’ heels.

The effect was magical upon the buffaloes, which tossed their heads furiously in the air, and dislodging their assailants, turned and rushed off, with the dogs now biting their heels or leaping viciously at their flanks, all attack now being changed to flight.

Chapter Thirteen.“Oomph! Oomph! Oomph!”“Are you much hurt, Dick?” cried Jack anxiously, as he knelt on one knee by his brother.“No, I think not,” panted Dick, opening his eyes. “I came over all giddy, and couldn’t sit my horse. Did he throw me?”“No: you fell.”“But where are the buffaloes?”“Yonder they go,” replied Jack. “Don’t you hear the dogs? There, lean on me, and let’s walk in to the camp.”“Oh, no,” cried Dick. “I’m better now.”“No, no; don’t try to mount.”“Yes, I shall,” was the reply. “I was overdone from being weak; but I’m better now, and I’m going with you to bring in the buffalo we shot.”“Oh no, Dick, don’t try,” cried his brother anxiously.But Dick would not be persuaded, and, mounting his horse, he rode with his brother up to the waggon, gave the necessary instructions to Peter and Dirk, and in a few moments those sable gentlemen were leading a small ox-team over the plain to where the General and his boys were busily dressing the fallen bull; and by the time Mr Rogers reached the waggon, the choicest parts of the buffalo were there, the remainder having been left for the vultures and wild creatures of the plain.They trekked on for some miles that evening, and soon after sundown halted by the side of a wood, whose edges were composed of dense thorns, and here, at the General’s suggestion, all set to work, after the waggon had been drawn up in a suitable position, to cut down the bushes so as to make a square patch, with the dense thorns on three sides and the waggon on the fourth, the lower part of the waggon being fortified with the bushes that were cut down.The object was to form a sound enclosure, which was duly strengthened, so as to protect the horses and bullocks from the wild beasts that haunted the neighbourhood.It was very hard work, and Dinny grumbled terribly, till Dick said quietly to his brother, in Dinny’s hearing,—“I wonder that Dinny don’t work harder. The General says this part swarms with lions; and they’ll be down upon us before we’ve done if he don’t make haste.”Dinny seemed to be turned for the moment into stone, at the bare mention of the word lion; but directly after he was toiling away with feverish haste, and in quite a state of excitement, bullying Coffee and Chicory for not bringing in more dead wood for the fire.By dint of all working hard, however, a satisfactory place was contrived, into which, after a good long feed, and a hearty drink of fresh water from a bubbling stream, the bullocks and horses were shut, the horses having a division of their own, where they would be safe from the horns of their friends as well as the teeth and claws of their enemies. Then the blazing fire in front of the waggon was utilised for cooking purposes, and buffalo steaks and thick rich soup from Dinny’s big pot soon restored the losses felt by the little party in their arduous evening toil.The waggon was on the very edge of the forest, and a couple of trees stood out on either side, spreading their branches over it as shelter, while the ruddy fire that was being steadily fed to get it into a good glow, with a bright blaze free from the blinding smoke emitted by burning wood, seemed to turn the waggon and trees into gold.“I’ll take the first watch, my boys,” said Mr Rogers, who, after their hearty supper, had read his sons a lecture about the necessity for care in hunting, “for,” said he, “but for the dogs your lives would certainly have been sacrificed.”“Yes, father, we’ll be more careful; but how is it the dogs have not come back?”“They overtook and pulled down one of the buffaloes,” said Mr Rogers. “They will glut themselves, and, after a long sleep, take up our trail and follow us. I dare say they’ll be here to-morrow.”The boys, who were fagged out, gladly crept into the waggon, the last thing they saw being Dinny putting some pieces of buffalo flesh and half a pail of water in the big pot, so as to let it stew by the fire all night. Then they drew up the canvas curtains of their tent-bed as they called it, leaving Mr Rogers and Peter to keep up the fire, and to call them in four hours’ time, the boys having begged that they might keep one of the watches together.They were fast asleep directly, and in five minutes’ time—so Jack declared—Mr Rogers aroused them to relieve guard.“Come, boys,” he said, “be quick. Do you know how long you’ve been asleep?”“Five minutes,” said Jack, sleepily.“Nearly five hours, sir.”“Then they weren’t good measure,” grumbled Jack.“There’s plenty of wood, Dick,” said Mr Rogers, “and I’d keep up a good blazing fire. I have not heard a sound; but if you are alarmed, a piece of blazing wood thrown in the direction is better than firing at random; but keep your rifles ready.”These words drove drowsy sleep from the boys’ eyelids, and clambering out of the waggon, the fresh cold night air finished the task.They saw Mr Rogers climb into the waggon and their black followers crawl under it; then taking the rifles, they saw to there being a ball cartridge in each, and big slugs in the shot barrel; and after throwing on a few sticks to make the fire blaze, they walked slowly up and down.“How dark and strange the forest looks, Jack,” said Dick, “I say, I’m not ashamed to say that it does make one feel timid.”“It makes two feel timid,” said Jack, sturdily. “Look at the dark shadows the fire throws. Why it almost looks as if there were all sorts of horrible creatures watching us. If I didn’t feel that father had been sitting here watching, and wasn’t afraid I’d give it up.”“Perhaps he did feel afraid,” said Dick.“Not he,” said Jack sturdily. “If he had felt afraid, he wouldn’t have let us watch here.”“Oh, yes, he would,” said Dick thoughtfully. “Father wants us to grow up manly and strong, and ready to laugh at what would alarm some lads. Hark! what’s that?”He caught his brother’s arm, for just then, apparently from beneath their feet, they heard a peculiar noise.“Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar, vibrating, shuddering, deep-toned cry, which seemed to make the air, and the very earth beneath them, vibrate.There was no mistaking it. Over and over again they had heard Coffee and Chicory imitate the cry; but how pitiful their attempts seemed now, as compared to the noise heard there in the solemnity of the silent night! “Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar grunting, shuddering roar, which made a perfect commotion in the strongly-made cattle-kraal or enclosure, the oxen running about in their dread, and the horses whinnying and stamping upon the hard ground.“How close is it!” whispered Jack, stretching out his hand to get hold of his rifle.“I don’t know. It seems sometimes just by this patch of bushes, and sometimes ever so far away. Hark! there’s another.”“Yes, and another.”“Or is it all made by one lion?” said Dick.“I don’t know,” replied Jack, in an awe-stricken whisper.“Shall we call father, and tell him there are lions about?”“No,” said Dick sturdily. “He’d laugh at us for cowards. We’ve got to get used to lions, Jack; and it’s our own doing—we wanted to come.”“Yes, but I didn’t know they’d come so close,” replied Jack. “Hark at that!”There was a deep-toned quivering roar, apparently from the other side of the fire, and Dick felt his heart beat rapidly as he threw a handful of small twigs upon the fire to make it blaze up.“Let’s go and talk to the horses,” he said. “Yes; that’s right,” for Jack had also added an armful of dry wood to the fire, which now blazed up merrily.They went to the thorny hedge which protected the horses, and on making their way through to where they were haltered to a pole, carried on the waggon for the purpose, they found the poor creatures trembling, and with dripping flanks, while when they spoke to them they rubbed their noses against their masters’ hands, and whinnied with pleasure, as if comforted by the presence of the boys.“What’s that, Dick?” cried Jack excitedly, for there was a crashing noise as if something had leaped at the hedge.The answer came in the panic of the bullocks and the dread of the horses; and, without hesitating, Jack lowered his piece in the direction of the sound, to fire both barrels rapidly one after the other.There was a savage roar for response, and a rush as of some creature bounding through the bushes. Then all was silent.“I wonder whether I hit him,” said Jack, proceeding to throw out the empty cartridges and reload.“Is anything wrong? Shall I come?” shouted Mr Rogers, from within the waggon.“No, father,” replied Dick steadily. “You needn’t come. We only fired at a lion.”But as they reached the fire again, a tall dark figure crawled to their side, and nodded to them gravely.“Plenty of lion here. I stop and help you.”It was the General, and glad enough the boys were of his company.Almost before they had seated themselves they heard a sound on the right, and taking a burning stick from the fire the General whirled it in the direction, the wood blazing up in its rapid passage through the air, and falling amongst some dry grass, which it set on fire, to burn for a few moments vividly, and then leave the surroundings apparently darker than before.As the burning brand fell in the forest there was an angry snarl, and these snarls were repeated again and again as from time to time the General skilfully threw the wood wherever his quick ears told him there was one of the lurking beasts.“Is there more than one lion?” said Dick, in a whisper at last.“Three, four, five,” said the General. “They want horse or bullock. Hist! look! see!”He pointed to a dark patch at the edge of the forest, where, upon Dick directing his eyes, he could see nothing; but the next moment there was the reflection of the fire to be seen in a couple of glaring orbs.“Can you shoot him?” said the General.“Let me by, Dick. My hand’s steady,” whispered Jack. “I think I could hit him.”“Go on,” was the whispered reply.To fire it was necessary for Jack to take aim across the Zulu, who leaned forward so that the barrel of Jack’s rifle rested upon his shoulders; while, kneeling, the boy took along and careful aim, right between the two glowing orbs, and drew trigger. There was the sharp report, a furious roar, a rush, the falling of some heavy body, and the scattering of the fire-brands. Then all was silent; and they rapidly collected the scattered embers to make the fire blaze up again; for the lions, far from being scared by the noise of the shot, renewed their awe-inspiring “Oomph! oomph!” on all sides; and the fear of the cattle was such that they threatened to break out of the kraal.Again Mr Rogers roused himself, and asked if there was any need for him to come. But Dick replied steadily that there was not—feeling as he did pretty confident, in spite of his dread, that they could keep the lions at bay.The fire blazed up so brightly, that the boys glanced anxiously at the supply of wood, thinking of the hours they had yet to pass before daylight, and what would be the consequences if the fire went out.One thing was very certain, and that was that a large fire would be necessary now every night. And though the boys felt a strange kind of tremor as they felt the risks they were incurring, there was so much romantic excitement in the life they were leading, that they would not have given it up on any consideration.The lions roared and prowled about them during the remainder of the night, sometimes coming very close, sometimes retreating, for the fire was very bright. And then came the two boys, Coffee and Chicory, with Peter the driver, to relieve them, just as day was breaking, and the young travellers gladly went back into the waggon for a sleep.

“Are you much hurt, Dick?” cried Jack anxiously, as he knelt on one knee by his brother.

“No, I think not,” panted Dick, opening his eyes. “I came over all giddy, and couldn’t sit my horse. Did he throw me?”

“No: you fell.”

“But where are the buffaloes?”

“Yonder they go,” replied Jack. “Don’t you hear the dogs? There, lean on me, and let’s walk in to the camp.”

“Oh, no,” cried Dick. “I’m better now.”

“No, no; don’t try to mount.”

“Yes, I shall,” was the reply. “I was overdone from being weak; but I’m better now, and I’m going with you to bring in the buffalo we shot.”

“Oh no, Dick, don’t try,” cried his brother anxiously.

But Dick would not be persuaded, and, mounting his horse, he rode with his brother up to the waggon, gave the necessary instructions to Peter and Dirk, and in a few moments those sable gentlemen were leading a small ox-team over the plain to where the General and his boys were busily dressing the fallen bull; and by the time Mr Rogers reached the waggon, the choicest parts of the buffalo were there, the remainder having been left for the vultures and wild creatures of the plain.

They trekked on for some miles that evening, and soon after sundown halted by the side of a wood, whose edges were composed of dense thorns, and here, at the General’s suggestion, all set to work, after the waggon had been drawn up in a suitable position, to cut down the bushes so as to make a square patch, with the dense thorns on three sides and the waggon on the fourth, the lower part of the waggon being fortified with the bushes that were cut down.

The object was to form a sound enclosure, which was duly strengthened, so as to protect the horses and bullocks from the wild beasts that haunted the neighbourhood.

It was very hard work, and Dinny grumbled terribly, till Dick said quietly to his brother, in Dinny’s hearing,—

“I wonder that Dinny don’t work harder. The General says this part swarms with lions; and they’ll be down upon us before we’ve done if he don’t make haste.”

Dinny seemed to be turned for the moment into stone, at the bare mention of the word lion; but directly after he was toiling away with feverish haste, and in quite a state of excitement, bullying Coffee and Chicory for not bringing in more dead wood for the fire.

By dint of all working hard, however, a satisfactory place was contrived, into which, after a good long feed, and a hearty drink of fresh water from a bubbling stream, the bullocks and horses were shut, the horses having a division of their own, where they would be safe from the horns of their friends as well as the teeth and claws of their enemies. Then the blazing fire in front of the waggon was utilised for cooking purposes, and buffalo steaks and thick rich soup from Dinny’s big pot soon restored the losses felt by the little party in their arduous evening toil.

The waggon was on the very edge of the forest, and a couple of trees stood out on either side, spreading their branches over it as shelter, while the ruddy fire that was being steadily fed to get it into a good glow, with a bright blaze free from the blinding smoke emitted by burning wood, seemed to turn the waggon and trees into gold.

“I’ll take the first watch, my boys,” said Mr Rogers, who, after their hearty supper, had read his sons a lecture about the necessity for care in hunting, “for,” said he, “but for the dogs your lives would certainly have been sacrificed.”

“Yes, father, we’ll be more careful; but how is it the dogs have not come back?”

“They overtook and pulled down one of the buffaloes,” said Mr Rogers. “They will glut themselves, and, after a long sleep, take up our trail and follow us. I dare say they’ll be here to-morrow.”

The boys, who were fagged out, gladly crept into the waggon, the last thing they saw being Dinny putting some pieces of buffalo flesh and half a pail of water in the big pot, so as to let it stew by the fire all night. Then they drew up the canvas curtains of their tent-bed as they called it, leaving Mr Rogers and Peter to keep up the fire, and to call them in four hours’ time, the boys having begged that they might keep one of the watches together.

They were fast asleep directly, and in five minutes’ time—so Jack declared—Mr Rogers aroused them to relieve guard.

“Come, boys,” he said, “be quick. Do you know how long you’ve been asleep?”

“Five minutes,” said Jack, sleepily.

“Nearly five hours, sir.”

“Then they weren’t good measure,” grumbled Jack.

“There’s plenty of wood, Dick,” said Mr Rogers, “and I’d keep up a good blazing fire. I have not heard a sound; but if you are alarmed, a piece of blazing wood thrown in the direction is better than firing at random; but keep your rifles ready.”

These words drove drowsy sleep from the boys’ eyelids, and clambering out of the waggon, the fresh cold night air finished the task.

They saw Mr Rogers climb into the waggon and their black followers crawl under it; then taking the rifles, they saw to there being a ball cartridge in each, and big slugs in the shot barrel; and after throwing on a few sticks to make the fire blaze, they walked slowly up and down.

“How dark and strange the forest looks, Jack,” said Dick, “I say, I’m not ashamed to say that it does make one feel timid.”

“It makes two feel timid,” said Jack, sturdily. “Look at the dark shadows the fire throws. Why it almost looks as if there were all sorts of horrible creatures watching us. If I didn’t feel that father had been sitting here watching, and wasn’t afraid I’d give it up.”

“Perhaps he did feel afraid,” said Dick.

“Not he,” said Jack sturdily. “If he had felt afraid, he wouldn’t have let us watch here.”

“Oh, yes, he would,” said Dick thoughtfully. “Father wants us to grow up manly and strong, and ready to laugh at what would alarm some lads. Hark! what’s that?”

He caught his brother’s arm, for just then, apparently from beneath their feet, they heard a peculiar noise.

“Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar, vibrating, shuddering, deep-toned cry, which seemed to make the air, and the very earth beneath them, vibrate.

There was no mistaking it. Over and over again they had heard Coffee and Chicory imitate the cry; but how pitiful their attempts seemed now, as compared to the noise heard there in the solemnity of the silent night! “Oomph! oomph! oomph!” a peculiar grunting, shuddering roar, which made a perfect commotion in the strongly-made cattle-kraal or enclosure, the oxen running about in their dread, and the horses whinnying and stamping upon the hard ground.

“How close is it!” whispered Jack, stretching out his hand to get hold of his rifle.

“I don’t know. It seems sometimes just by this patch of bushes, and sometimes ever so far away. Hark! there’s another.”

“Yes, and another.”

“Or is it all made by one lion?” said Dick.

“I don’t know,” replied Jack, in an awe-stricken whisper.

“Shall we call father, and tell him there are lions about?”

“No,” said Dick sturdily. “He’d laugh at us for cowards. We’ve got to get used to lions, Jack; and it’s our own doing—we wanted to come.”

“Yes, but I didn’t know they’d come so close,” replied Jack. “Hark at that!”

There was a deep-toned quivering roar, apparently from the other side of the fire, and Dick felt his heart beat rapidly as he threw a handful of small twigs upon the fire to make it blaze up.

“Let’s go and talk to the horses,” he said. “Yes; that’s right,” for Jack had also added an armful of dry wood to the fire, which now blazed up merrily.

They went to the thorny hedge which protected the horses, and on making their way through to where they were haltered to a pole, carried on the waggon for the purpose, they found the poor creatures trembling, and with dripping flanks, while when they spoke to them they rubbed their noses against their masters’ hands, and whinnied with pleasure, as if comforted by the presence of the boys.

“What’s that, Dick?” cried Jack excitedly, for there was a crashing noise as if something had leaped at the hedge.

The answer came in the panic of the bullocks and the dread of the horses; and, without hesitating, Jack lowered his piece in the direction of the sound, to fire both barrels rapidly one after the other.

There was a savage roar for response, and a rush as of some creature bounding through the bushes. Then all was silent.

“I wonder whether I hit him,” said Jack, proceeding to throw out the empty cartridges and reload.

“Is anything wrong? Shall I come?” shouted Mr Rogers, from within the waggon.

“No, father,” replied Dick steadily. “You needn’t come. We only fired at a lion.”

But as they reached the fire again, a tall dark figure crawled to their side, and nodded to them gravely.

“Plenty of lion here. I stop and help you.”

It was the General, and glad enough the boys were of his company.

Almost before they had seated themselves they heard a sound on the right, and taking a burning stick from the fire the General whirled it in the direction, the wood blazing up in its rapid passage through the air, and falling amongst some dry grass, which it set on fire, to burn for a few moments vividly, and then leave the surroundings apparently darker than before.

As the burning brand fell in the forest there was an angry snarl, and these snarls were repeated again and again as from time to time the General skilfully threw the wood wherever his quick ears told him there was one of the lurking beasts.

“Is there more than one lion?” said Dick, in a whisper at last.

“Three, four, five,” said the General. “They want horse or bullock. Hist! look! see!”

He pointed to a dark patch at the edge of the forest, where, upon Dick directing his eyes, he could see nothing; but the next moment there was the reflection of the fire to be seen in a couple of glaring orbs.

“Can you shoot him?” said the General.

“Let me by, Dick. My hand’s steady,” whispered Jack. “I think I could hit him.”

“Go on,” was the whispered reply.

To fire it was necessary for Jack to take aim across the Zulu, who leaned forward so that the barrel of Jack’s rifle rested upon his shoulders; while, kneeling, the boy took along and careful aim, right between the two glowing orbs, and drew trigger. There was the sharp report, a furious roar, a rush, the falling of some heavy body, and the scattering of the fire-brands. Then all was silent; and they rapidly collected the scattered embers to make the fire blaze up again; for the lions, far from being scared by the noise of the shot, renewed their awe-inspiring “Oomph! oomph!” on all sides; and the fear of the cattle was such that they threatened to break out of the kraal.

Again Mr Rogers roused himself, and asked if there was any need for him to come. But Dick replied steadily that there was not—feeling as he did pretty confident, in spite of his dread, that they could keep the lions at bay.

The fire blazed up so brightly, that the boys glanced anxiously at the supply of wood, thinking of the hours they had yet to pass before daylight, and what would be the consequences if the fire went out.

One thing was very certain, and that was that a large fire would be necessary now every night. And though the boys felt a strange kind of tremor as they felt the risks they were incurring, there was so much romantic excitement in the life they were leading, that they would not have given it up on any consideration.

The lions roared and prowled about them during the remainder of the night, sometimes coming very close, sometimes retreating, for the fire was very bright. And then came the two boys, Coffee and Chicory, with Peter the driver, to relieve them, just as day was breaking, and the young travellers gladly went back into the waggon for a sleep.

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