Chapter Thirty Four.How the Waggon was put Straight.The remark made by Dick as he rode home with his father was much nearer fulfilment than he expected.The morning broke dark and lowering, with great thunder clouds in the north; and as it was evident that it was raining hard, as it can rain sometimes in South Africa, and they might get caught, it was decided to spend the morning at home, and devote that day to a general clean up of arms, and a repacking of the waggon, which needed doing sadly. Besides which there were cases of stores that they had not yet been able to get at; and these it was advisable to have, especially a whole barrel of fine flour, which was right at the bottom.Arms were cleaned, then, till Dinny announced breakfast, with three hot roast quails, that had been knocked down by Chicory that morning.These were a delicious treat, being about three times the size of the little English quail; and the hearty breakfast having come to an end, Mr Rogers climbed into the waggon, followed by the boys, the General and his sons went off to collect wood for firing, while Peter and Dirk, with a yoke of bullocks, brought it to the camp and made a stack, upon which Dinny soon began to make inroads for culinary purposes, as he had cakes to bake, and a large joint of eland to cook for an early dinner—for if it seemed likely to hold up, an expedition was determined on in search of giraffes for the afternoon.It was very busy and very warm work under the tilt of the waggon, but the two boys toiled away with a will, and package after package of forgotten luxuries was unearthed, and placed where it could be used.“Hurray, father!” cried Jack, “here’s a box of cornflour.”“And here’s another bag of rice,” cried Dick.“Better still,” said Mr Rogers, laughing. “Here’s something that will suit you, Dick.”“What? More sugar, father?”“No. You were grumbling about always drinking your coffee without milk; here’s a case of Swiss condensed.”“If the sugar ran out,” said Jack, “we could get honey.”“Yes,” said his father. “You boys must be on the look out for the honey-guide.”“Why, we saw one, father,” cried Jack.“Yes, and the rhinoceros drove it out of our head,” said Dick, “and—”“Why, what’s the matter?” cried Mr Rogers. “Rifles, boys!”They were just engaged in moving a big chest, and had the greater part of the waggon’s contents piled up on one side, that nearest the kraal of growing and piled up thorns, when there was a loud yelping of the dogs, a peculiar grunting snort, a tremendous crash, and the dissel-boom was driven on one side, and the fore part of the waggon itself actually lifted and nearly overturned.There was a tremendous crash, and splinters flew as it was struck; and another crash as it came down upon the earth again, one wheel having been lifted quite a couple of feet.Then, as Jack held on by the great laths of the waggon cover, and looked over the chests, he saw the shoulders of a great rhinoceros, as it wrenched its horn out of the woodwork that it had driven it through; then it whisked round, and charged straight at the fire, rushing through it, trampling the embers, and tossing the burning sticks in all directions.“Murther! master, help! Here’s a big thief of a— Murth—”Dinny did not finish his sentence, for, seeing him standing there shouting as his cooking-place was “torn all to smithereens,” as he afterwards expressed it, the rhinoceros dashed at him, and with one lift of his horn sent poor Dinny flying into the thorny hedge of the cattle-kraal.The rhinoceros now stood snorting and squeaking, in search of some other object upon which to vent its rage; and seeing this in some newly-washed clothes laid out to dry upon a bush, it charged at them, dashing through the bush, and carrying off a white garment upon its horn, with which it tore right away, never stopping once while it was in sight.“Well, when you have done laughing, young gentlemen,” said Mr Rogers, “perhaps you will let me pass and see what damages we have suffered.”“Laugh!” cried Jack. “Oh, father, I ache with laughing. Did you ever see such a comical beast?”“It certainly has its comical side,” said Mr Rogers; “but it is terribly mischievous and dangerous.”“But you should have seen it toss Dinny, father,” said Dick, wiping his eyes. “I hope he wasn’t hurt.”They leaped out of the waggon rifle in hand, just as a piteous groan came from the top of the kraal fence.“Ah, masther, and that was the only dacent shirt I had left. Oh, masther, dear, help me down. I’m kilt and murthered here wid the great thorns in my back.”The boys could hardly help for laughing, poor Dinny’s aspect was so ludicrous; but by dint of placing the broken dissel-boom up to where he was sitting, and crawling up to him, Dinny was aided to drag himself out.“Aisy then, Masther Jack, aisy,” he cried; “don’t ye see the nasty crukked thorns have got howlt of me? Ye’d be pulling me out of my clothes, instead of my clothes out of the thorns. Arrah, sor, d’ye think that great pig baste wid a horn on his nose will ever bring me clane shirt back?”“Very doubtful, Dinny; but are you much hurt?” said Mr Rogers.“An’ am I much hurt?” cried Dinny, “whin there isn’t a bit of me as big as saxpence that hasn’t got a thorn shtuck in it?”“Oh, never mind the thorns,” said Mr Rogers, laughing.“Shure, I don’t, sor; they moight all be burnt for the bit I’d care. But shure, sor, it isn’t at all funny when you’ve got the thorns in ye.”“No, no, of course not, Dinny,” said his master, “and it is unfeeling to laugh. But are you hurt anywhere?”“Shure, sor, I’m telling ye that I’m hurt all over me, ivery-where.”“But the rhinoceros—”“The which, sor? Sure, I didn’t know that any part of me was called a rhinoceros.”“No, no, I mean the animal that charged you.”“An’ that’s a rhinoceros is it, sor? Shure, I thought it was a big African pig wid a horn in his nose.”“Yes, that’s a rhinoceros, Dinny. Come, did it hurt you when it charged you?”“Shure, I’d like to charge it the price of me best shirt, I would,” grumbled Dinny, rubbing himself softly. “No, he didn’t hurt me much; he lifted me up too tinderly wid his shnout; but that was his artfulness, the baste; he knew what the crukked thorns would do.”“Then you have no bones broken, Dinny?” said Dick.“An is it a pig I’d let break me bones?” cried Dinny, indignantly. “A great ugly baste! I’d like to have the killing of him any day in the week. Just look at me fire flying all over the place. Shure, I’ll be very glad when we get home again;” and he went grumbling away.The damage to the waggon was not serious. The horn of the great beast had gone right through the plank of the forepart, where the chest generally stood on which the driver sat, and that could easily be repaired; while they were carpenters enough to splice the broken dissel-boom, or if needs be, cut down a suitable tree and make another; so that altogether there was nothing much to bemoan. A good deal of laughter followed, Dick and Jack being unable to contain their mirth, as they thought of Dinny’s discomfiture.“Oh, yis; it’s all very foine, Masther Jack; but if you’d been sent flying like I was then, it isn’t much ye’d have laughed.”“No, I suppose not, Dinny,” said the lad frankly; “but never mind about the thorns.”“Shure, it isn’t the holes in me shkin,” said Dinny; “they’ll grow again. I was thinking about me shirt.”“I’ll ask father to give you one of his, Dinny,” said Dick.“One o’ thim flannel ones wid blue sthripes?” said Dinny eagerly.“Yes, one of those if you like, Dinny.”“Whoop! good luck to the big pig and his horn on his nose,” cried Dinny. “He’s welkim to me owld shirt; for it was that tindher that I had to put on me kid gloves to wash it, for fear it should come to pieces, Masther Dick. But, Masther Dick, asthore, d’ye think the big baste will come back and thread on me fire again?”“I think we shall have to be on the look out for him to stop him,” said Dick. “But his skin’s so thick there’s no getting a bullet through.”“An’ is it a pig wid a shkin as thick as that!” said Dinny, contemptuously. “Arrah, I’ll be after shooting the baste meself. I wouldn’t go afther the lines, but a big pig! Shure, if the masther will let me have a gun and powther, I’ll go and shute the baste before he knows where he is.”
The remark made by Dick as he rode home with his father was much nearer fulfilment than he expected.
The morning broke dark and lowering, with great thunder clouds in the north; and as it was evident that it was raining hard, as it can rain sometimes in South Africa, and they might get caught, it was decided to spend the morning at home, and devote that day to a general clean up of arms, and a repacking of the waggon, which needed doing sadly. Besides which there were cases of stores that they had not yet been able to get at; and these it was advisable to have, especially a whole barrel of fine flour, which was right at the bottom.
Arms were cleaned, then, till Dinny announced breakfast, with three hot roast quails, that had been knocked down by Chicory that morning.
These were a delicious treat, being about three times the size of the little English quail; and the hearty breakfast having come to an end, Mr Rogers climbed into the waggon, followed by the boys, the General and his sons went off to collect wood for firing, while Peter and Dirk, with a yoke of bullocks, brought it to the camp and made a stack, upon which Dinny soon began to make inroads for culinary purposes, as he had cakes to bake, and a large joint of eland to cook for an early dinner—for if it seemed likely to hold up, an expedition was determined on in search of giraffes for the afternoon.
It was very busy and very warm work under the tilt of the waggon, but the two boys toiled away with a will, and package after package of forgotten luxuries was unearthed, and placed where it could be used.
“Hurray, father!” cried Jack, “here’s a box of cornflour.”
“And here’s another bag of rice,” cried Dick.
“Better still,” said Mr Rogers, laughing. “Here’s something that will suit you, Dick.”
“What? More sugar, father?”
“No. You were grumbling about always drinking your coffee without milk; here’s a case of Swiss condensed.”
“If the sugar ran out,” said Jack, “we could get honey.”
“Yes,” said his father. “You boys must be on the look out for the honey-guide.”
“Why, we saw one, father,” cried Jack.
“Yes, and the rhinoceros drove it out of our head,” said Dick, “and—”
“Why, what’s the matter?” cried Mr Rogers. “Rifles, boys!”
They were just engaged in moving a big chest, and had the greater part of the waggon’s contents piled up on one side, that nearest the kraal of growing and piled up thorns, when there was a loud yelping of the dogs, a peculiar grunting snort, a tremendous crash, and the dissel-boom was driven on one side, and the fore part of the waggon itself actually lifted and nearly overturned.
There was a tremendous crash, and splinters flew as it was struck; and another crash as it came down upon the earth again, one wheel having been lifted quite a couple of feet.
Then, as Jack held on by the great laths of the waggon cover, and looked over the chests, he saw the shoulders of a great rhinoceros, as it wrenched its horn out of the woodwork that it had driven it through; then it whisked round, and charged straight at the fire, rushing through it, trampling the embers, and tossing the burning sticks in all directions.
“Murther! master, help! Here’s a big thief of a— Murth—”
Dinny did not finish his sentence, for, seeing him standing there shouting as his cooking-place was “torn all to smithereens,” as he afterwards expressed it, the rhinoceros dashed at him, and with one lift of his horn sent poor Dinny flying into the thorny hedge of the cattle-kraal.
The rhinoceros now stood snorting and squeaking, in search of some other object upon which to vent its rage; and seeing this in some newly-washed clothes laid out to dry upon a bush, it charged at them, dashing through the bush, and carrying off a white garment upon its horn, with which it tore right away, never stopping once while it was in sight.
“Well, when you have done laughing, young gentlemen,” said Mr Rogers, “perhaps you will let me pass and see what damages we have suffered.”
“Laugh!” cried Jack. “Oh, father, I ache with laughing. Did you ever see such a comical beast?”
“It certainly has its comical side,” said Mr Rogers; “but it is terribly mischievous and dangerous.”
“But you should have seen it toss Dinny, father,” said Dick, wiping his eyes. “I hope he wasn’t hurt.”
They leaped out of the waggon rifle in hand, just as a piteous groan came from the top of the kraal fence.
“Ah, masther, and that was the only dacent shirt I had left. Oh, masther, dear, help me down. I’m kilt and murthered here wid the great thorns in my back.”
The boys could hardly help for laughing, poor Dinny’s aspect was so ludicrous; but by dint of placing the broken dissel-boom up to where he was sitting, and crawling up to him, Dinny was aided to drag himself out.
“Aisy then, Masther Jack, aisy,” he cried; “don’t ye see the nasty crukked thorns have got howlt of me? Ye’d be pulling me out of my clothes, instead of my clothes out of the thorns. Arrah, sor, d’ye think that great pig baste wid a horn on his nose will ever bring me clane shirt back?”
“Very doubtful, Dinny; but are you much hurt?” said Mr Rogers.
“An’ am I much hurt?” cried Dinny, “whin there isn’t a bit of me as big as saxpence that hasn’t got a thorn shtuck in it?”
“Oh, never mind the thorns,” said Mr Rogers, laughing.
“Shure, I don’t, sor; they moight all be burnt for the bit I’d care. But shure, sor, it isn’t at all funny when you’ve got the thorns in ye.”
“No, no, of course not, Dinny,” said his master, “and it is unfeeling to laugh. But are you hurt anywhere?”
“Shure, sor, I’m telling ye that I’m hurt all over me, ivery-where.”
“But the rhinoceros—”
“The which, sor? Sure, I didn’t know that any part of me was called a rhinoceros.”
“No, no, I mean the animal that charged you.”
“An’ that’s a rhinoceros is it, sor? Shure, I thought it was a big African pig wid a horn in his nose.”
“Yes, that’s a rhinoceros, Dinny. Come, did it hurt you when it charged you?”
“Shure, I’d like to charge it the price of me best shirt, I would,” grumbled Dinny, rubbing himself softly. “No, he didn’t hurt me much; he lifted me up too tinderly wid his shnout; but that was his artfulness, the baste; he knew what the crukked thorns would do.”
“Then you have no bones broken, Dinny?” said Dick.
“An is it a pig I’d let break me bones?” cried Dinny, indignantly. “A great ugly baste! I’d like to have the killing of him any day in the week. Just look at me fire flying all over the place. Shure, I’ll be very glad when we get home again;” and he went grumbling away.
The damage to the waggon was not serious. The horn of the great beast had gone right through the plank of the forepart, where the chest generally stood on which the driver sat, and that could easily be repaired; while they were carpenters enough to splice the broken dissel-boom, or if needs be, cut down a suitable tree and make another; so that altogether there was nothing much to bemoan. A good deal of laughter followed, Dick and Jack being unable to contain their mirth, as they thought of Dinny’s discomfiture.
“Oh, yis; it’s all very foine, Masther Jack; but if you’d been sent flying like I was then, it isn’t much ye’d have laughed.”
“No, I suppose not, Dinny,” said the lad frankly; “but never mind about the thorns.”
“Shure, it isn’t the holes in me shkin,” said Dinny; “they’ll grow again. I was thinking about me shirt.”
“I’ll ask father to give you one of his, Dinny,” said Dick.
“One o’ thim flannel ones wid blue sthripes?” said Dinny eagerly.
“Yes, one of those if you like, Dinny.”
“Whoop! good luck to the big pig and his horn on his nose,” cried Dinny. “He’s welkim to me owld shirt; for it was that tindher that I had to put on me kid gloves to wash it, for fear it should come to pieces, Masther Dick. But, Masther Dick, asthore, d’ye think the big baste will come back and thread on me fire again?”
“I think we shall have to be on the look out for him to stop him,” said Dick. “But his skin’s so thick there’s no getting a bullet through.”
“An’ is it a pig wid a shkin as thick as that!” said Dinny, contemptuously. “Arrah, I’ll be after shooting the baste meself. I wouldn’t go afther the lines, but a big pig! Shure, if the masther will let me have a gun and powther, I’ll go and shute the baste before he knows where he is.”
Chapter Thirty Five.How Dinny handled his Gun.In expectation of another visit from the rhinoceros, the greatest precautions were taken; but the days went by, and hunting and collecting took up plenty of attention, and no more visits from the rhinoceros were received.The boys were certain that this was not the animal that had charged them out upon the grass plain, and proof of this was found one day when, in company with their father, the boys were following a honey-guide. Coffee and Chicory were with them, and eagerly joined in the pursuit, till the bird which had been flitting from bush to bush, and from tree to tree, suddenly perched itself upon one at the edge of a patch of forest.Then Chicory ran right to a particular tree, and pointed to a spot where, about twenty feet from the ground, the bees could be seen flying in and out.To the great disappointment of the bird, the wild hive was left for that occasion, it being a pity to waste any of the honey, so they returned by another route towards the camp, the bird twittering and showing no little excitement at what it evidently looked upon as the folly of men at neglecting the sweet treasure.The place was, however, marked, and with the intention of returning next day, armed with hatchet, fire, and a couple of zinc buckets to hold the spoil, they rode round the other side of the forest-patch, looking out for brightly-plumaged birds, whose skins could be added to the collection already made.“Yes,” said Mr Rogers, “it is a curious natural history fact, but there it is, plainly enough. The bird knows that man can get at the honey when it cannot, so it leads him to the place hoping to get its share of the spoil.”“Then you don’t think it is done out of love for man, father?” said Jack.“What do you think, Dick?” said Mr Rogers.“I think it’s done out of kindness to the bird,” said Dick, smiling.“So do I,” replied his father, “and that bird its own self.”“Look at the vultures,” cried Jack, just then, as quite a cloud of the great birds rose from a clump of trees on their left; and upon riding up there lay a great rhinoceros, or rather its remains, for, in spite of its tough hide, the carrion birds had been busy at it; but not so busy but that the marks of a couple of bullets were seen in its neck and fore-shoulder, from the effects of which it had evidently died.“That’s our rhinoceros,” cried Jack eagerly.“You shall have your claim, boys,” said Mr Rogers drily; “my shot shall not count.”“I said ‘our,’ father; so let’s share it amongst us.”The boys would have liked to have the horn hacked off, but the animal was in such a terrible state that their father thought it unfair to set either of the Zulus to execute the task; so they had to be content with the trophy in expectation; the boys promising to have off the horn from the next that was shot.While they were enjoying a hearty meal after their return to the camp, Dinny suddenly began to make advances to Chicory, giving him pieces of cake, and choice bits of meat, which he had roasted, and all to the boy’s great surprise, for heretofore Dinny had been anything but civil to him. But Chicory took it all in good part, and smiled and nodded; and when at last Dinny signed to him to come away from the camp, the boy followed without a word.“Look ye here, my little naygur,” said Dinny confidentially, as soon as they were in the shelter of the trees; “d’ye undherstand what I’m saying to ye?”Chicory nodded eagerly.“Yes, yes; understand,” he said.“Then look here, ye dark-looking little image; I want ye to help me.”“Yes; help,” said Chicory wonderingly.“Iv ye’ll help me, I’ll help you, little naygur; and ye shall always have plenty of what’s good out of the pot, and roast mate, and cake. D’ye understand that?”“Yes; Chicory know. Give him plenty meat.”“That’s right, my young son of a dark night,” cried Dinny. “Well, now then, look here. Ye know that grate big pig wid the horn on his nose came and upset me fire, and run away wid me wardrobe?”Chicory shook his head.“Well then, wid me clane shirt. D’ye undherstand now?”“Yes, yes,” said Chicory, laughing. “Don’t know big pig.”“Yes, yes, you do, my young piece of black velvet; the big rise nosserus.”“Yes, rhinoceros, big beast, big horn. Oorrr! houk! houk! houk!”This was supposed to resemble the noise made by the great animal; and Chicory illustrated his cry by going down on hands and knees in a clumsy gallop, which ended with a toss of the head in the air.“Yes; that’s him,” said Dinny. “Well, I want ye to find the way to where he lives by his futmarks, and then come and tell me, and I’ll go and shute him.”Chicory nodded his head, and they went back to the waggon, where Dinny presented himself to his master all at once with a request for a gun.“A gun, Dinny? And what do you want with a gun?”“Shure, sor, everybody else learns how to shute, and I thought I’d like to be able to shute a line or a hippo—what’s his name, or any other of the savage bastes if they came near the waggon while ye were away.”“Well, Dinny, I have no objection, if you promise to be careful.”“But I want one o’ them that shutes big bullets, sor, and not the little pishtol things that only shutes small shot, sor.”“You shall have a good rifle, Dinny,” said his master. “Dick, get the Snider—the short Snider—out of the waggon, and give him twenty cartridges.”This was done, and the rifle placed in Dinny’s hands.“You must be very careful how you shoot with it, Dinny,” said Mr Rogers.“Shure and I will, sor.”“But be particularly careful not to fire in the direction where any one is coming. Remember a Snider is dangerous at a mile.”“Is it now?” said Dinny. “But shure, sor, I want a gun, and I don’t care for your Sniders at all. What’s a Snider to do wid me? It’s a gun I want.”“To kill wild beasts, Dinny?”“That same, sor.”“Well, then, take that Snider-rifle; it will kill at a tremendous distance.”“What, that little bid of a thing, sor?”“To be sure, man. Now take care, and you’ll have to keep it clean and free from rust as well.”“Thanky, sor, and I will, and it will have too much to do for it to get rusty.”“Well, Dinny, I trust you, mind, so be careful with your weapon.”“Shure, sor, and I will,” said Dinny; and taking the Snider very carefully in his hands, he asked Jack to give him “a bit of showing how to trim thim,” and this Jack did till he was perfect, when Dinny went off with the rifle, muttering to himself.“Think o’ that now!” he kept on saying, “that bit of a thing shooting a baste at a mile!”Nothing more was said by Dinny, who had made his plans, and he kept his own secret of what he intended to do. On the following afternoon Chicory came to him in high glee, to claim the roast meat and cake promised, and he announced that he had found where the rhinoceros lived.“How did you find him out?” said Dinny doubtingly.“Track. Follow spoor,” said Chicory proudly.“Oh, ye followed his spoor, did ye?” said Dinny. “Very well thin, it’s going to be a bright moonlight night, so ye can follow his spoor, and tak’ me wid ye.”Chicory nodded eagerly, and in the course of the evening he came and beckoned to Dinny, who took the Snider, and put the cartridges in his pocket.“Where are you going, Dinny?” said his master.“Shure, jist for a bit o’ pleasure, sor,” he replied.“Well, look out for the lions,” said Dick maliciously.“Shure I niver thought o’ the lines,” muttered Dinny, “and they goo out a-walking av a night. I’d better shtay at home. Bother!” he cried angrily. “Shure the young masther did it to frecken me, and it’ll take a braver boy than him to do it anyhow.”So Dinny marched off, and following Chicory, the boy led him at once over a rugged mountainous hill, and then into a part of the forest that was particularly dark, save where the moon, pretty well at its full, threw long paths of light between the trees.Enjoining silence, the boy went cautiously forward, threading his way through the dark forest, till he halted beside a fallen monarch of the woods, a huge tree of such enormous proportions, that its gnarled trunk and branches completely stopped further progress; for it formed a stout barrier breast high, over which a man could fire at anything crossing the moonlit glade beyond.The shape of the tree was such that a branch like a second trunk ran almost parallel to the main trunk, arching over the head of whoever used the old tree for a breastwork, and forming an additional protection should the occupant of the breastwork be attacked by any large animal.“Stop there, you see noseros,” whispered Chicory.“But shure ye wouldn’t have a man shtand there by himself, and all in the dark? Faix, there’s some wild baste or another shlaying me now.”“See noseros then shoot,” whispered Chicory. “I stay here.”The boy caught hold of a branch and swung himself up into a tree, where he perched himself and waited.“Faix, he’s just like a little monkey, and not fit for the shociety of Christians,” muttered Dinny as he took his place by the great barrier, and, resting his rifle upon the trunk, waited.Dinny felt in anything but a courageous mood, but as he had come so far upon his mission, he strung himself up to go on with it, and watched the open space before him, lit up by the moon which shone full upon his face.“Maybe he’s only playing wid me, the black little haythen,” thought Dinny, “and there’s no big pig to be seen here at all. But he shan’t see that I’m a bit freckened annyhow, for I’ll shtand my ground till he comes down and says we’d better go.”So Dinny stood watching there till he began to feel drowsy, and this made him lean against the great trunk, his head began to nod, and twice over he was pretty well asleep.“Shure, an’ I’ll catch cowld if I do that,” he said to himself, as he gave himself a bit of a shake. “I don’t see what’s the good o’ waiting here, and—murther! look at that now.”Dinny felt as if cold water was being poured over him as, all at once, he saw the great proportions of a rhinoceros standing out quite black against the bright moonlight, the animal being as motionless as if carved from the rock that lay in great masses around.“Shure an’ it’s a big shtone, and nothing else, and—murther, it’s moving, and coming here.”Dinny hardly knew himself how he did it, but in a kind of desperation he took aim at the rhinoceros, and drew trigger.The result was a sharp crack, that seemed to echo into distance far away, and mingled with the echoes there was a furious grunting roar.For Dinny had hit the rhinoceros. In fact, aiming at it as he did, with the barrel of his piece upon the large trunk, it would have been almost impossible to miss. But as he heard the roar Dinny turned and ran, stumbled, saved himself, and hid behind a tree.“Murther, but it’s awful work,” he muttered, as his trembling fingers placed a second cartridge in the rifle.Then, all being silent, Dinny stole out, and peering cautiously before him, crept towards the prostrate tree.“Shure, I belave I’ve shot him dead,” he muttered, as he peered out into the open glade; but as he showed his face in the moonlight there was a furious snort, and Dinny turned and fled; for the rhinoceros charged right at the white face behind the prostrate tree, thrusting its monstrous head between the two huge limbs; and then, in spite of its prodigious strength being unable to get any further, it drew back, charged again, placed one hoof on the tree—but its efforts were in vain. Then it wrenched its head back, and retiring a short distance charged once more, Dinny watching it from behind a tree with blanched face and hands, trembling with excitement.A practised hunter would have sent bullet after bullet crashing into the monster’s brain; but Dinny was not practised, and it was not until he had thoroughly convinced himself that the animal could not get through, that he stole out, and bending down, cautiously advanced nearer and nearer to the hugebeast, which snorted, and grunted, and squealed in its futile efforts to get at its assailant.If it had gone twenty yards to its left, it could easily have passed the obstacle; but it was pig-like enough in its nature to keep on trying to force itself through the obstacle it had tried to pass, and seeing this, Dinny went on, gaining a little courage the while.“Shure I’ll go close enough to make quite sartain,” he muttered; “but it’s like having a bad dhrame, that it is. Now where had I better shute him—in the mouth or the eye?”He decided for the eye, and raising the rifle at last he took a long aim at not six feet distance, when the great beast uttered so furious a roar that Dinny turned once more, and fled behind the tree.“Shure and what’d I be freckened of?” he said angrily. “Not of a baste like that.” And walking out once more he repeated his manoeuvres, approaching cautiously; and as the rhinoceros began straining, and sprang to force its way through, Dinny took careful aim at the monstrous beast, and fired.“Shure it’s aisy enough,” he said, as the beast started back; and placing a fresh cartridge in his piece, he fired again at where the animal stood in the full moonlight swaying its head to and fro.It was impossible to miss; and Dinny fired again and again, nine shots in all, growing encouraged by his success; and the result was that the monster fell over upon its side at last with a heavy thud, just as Chicory dropped to the ground, and made the hero jump by touching him on the back.“Ah, be aisy; what are ye thrying to frecken a man for like that?” said Dinny. “But look at that, ye little haythen; that’s the way to shute. Now let’s go back and tell them they needn’t be alarmed about the big pig, for its Dinny himself that has done the thrick.”
In expectation of another visit from the rhinoceros, the greatest precautions were taken; but the days went by, and hunting and collecting took up plenty of attention, and no more visits from the rhinoceros were received.
The boys were certain that this was not the animal that had charged them out upon the grass plain, and proof of this was found one day when, in company with their father, the boys were following a honey-guide. Coffee and Chicory were with them, and eagerly joined in the pursuit, till the bird which had been flitting from bush to bush, and from tree to tree, suddenly perched itself upon one at the edge of a patch of forest.
Then Chicory ran right to a particular tree, and pointed to a spot where, about twenty feet from the ground, the bees could be seen flying in and out.
To the great disappointment of the bird, the wild hive was left for that occasion, it being a pity to waste any of the honey, so they returned by another route towards the camp, the bird twittering and showing no little excitement at what it evidently looked upon as the folly of men at neglecting the sweet treasure.
The place was, however, marked, and with the intention of returning next day, armed with hatchet, fire, and a couple of zinc buckets to hold the spoil, they rode round the other side of the forest-patch, looking out for brightly-plumaged birds, whose skins could be added to the collection already made.
“Yes,” said Mr Rogers, “it is a curious natural history fact, but there it is, plainly enough. The bird knows that man can get at the honey when it cannot, so it leads him to the place hoping to get its share of the spoil.”
“Then you don’t think it is done out of love for man, father?” said Jack.
“What do you think, Dick?” said Mr Rogers.
“I think it’s done out of kindness to the bird,” said Dick, smiling.
“So do I,” replied his father, “and that bird its own self.”
“Look at the vultures,” cried Jack, just then, as quite a cloud of the great birds rose from a clump of trees on their left; and upon riding up there lay a great rhinoceros, or rather its remains, for, in spite of its tough hide, the carrion birds had been busy at it; but not so busy but that the marks of a couple of bullets were seen in its neck and fore-shoulder, from the effects of which it had evidently died.
“That’s our rhinoceros,” cried Jack eagerly.
“You shall have your claim, boys,” said Mr Rogers drily; “my shot shall not count.”
“I said ‘our,’ father; so let’s share it amongst us.”
The boys would have liked to have the horn hacked off, but the animal was in such a terrible state that their father thought it unfair to set either of the Zulus to execute the task; so they had to be content with the trophy in expectation; the boys promising to have off the horn from the next that was shot.
While they were enjoying a hearty meal after their return to the camp, Dinny suddenly began to make advances to Chicory, giving him pieces of cake, and choice bits of meat, which he had roasted, and all to the boy’s great surprise, for heretofore Dinny had been anything but civil to him. But Chicory took it all in good part, and smiled and nodded; and when at last Dinny signed to him to come away from the camp, the boy followed without a word.
“Look ye here, my little naygur,” said Dinny confidentially, as soon as they were in the shelter of the trees; “d’ye undherstand what I’m saying to ye?”
Chicory nodded eagerly.
“Yes, yes; understand,” he said.
“Then look here, ye dark-looking little image; I want ye to help me.”
“Yes; help,” said Chicory wonderingly.
“Iv ye’ll help me, I’ll help you, little naygur; and ye shall always have plenty of what’s good out of the pot, and roast mate, and cake. D’ye understand that?”
“Yes; Chicory know. Give him plenty meat.”
“That’s right, my young son of a dark night,” cried Dinny. “Well, now then, look here. Ye know that grate big pig wid the horn on his nose came and upset me fire, and run away wid me wardrobe?”
Chicory shook his head.
“Well then, wid me clane shirt. D’ye undherstand now?”
“Yes, yes,” said Chicory, laughing. “Don’t know big pig.”
“Yes, yes, you do, my young piece of black velvet; the big rise nosserus.”
“Yes, rhinoceros, big beast, big horn. Oorrr! houk! houk! houk!”
This was supposed to resemble the noise made by the great animal; and Chicory illustrated his cry by going down on hands and knees in a clumsy gallop, which ended with a toss of the head in the air.
“Yes; that’s him,” said Dinny. “Well, I want ye to find the way to where he lives by his futmarks, and then come and tell me, and I’ll go and shute him.”
Chicory nodded his head, and they went back to the waggon, where Dinny presented himself to his master all at once with a request for a gun.
“A gun, Dinny? And what do you want with a gun?”
“Shure, sor, everybody else learns how to shute, and I thought I’d like to be able to shute a line or a hippo—what’s his name, or any other of the savage bastes if they came near the waggon while ye were away.”
“Well, Dinny, I have no objection, if you promise to be careful.”
“But I want one o’ them that shutes big bullets, sor, and not the little pishtol things that only shutes small shot, sor.”
“You shall have a good rifle, Dinny,” said his master. “Dick, get the Snider—the short Snider—out of the waggon, and give him twenty cartridges.”
This was done, and the rifle placed in Dinny’s hands.
“You must be very careful how you shoot with it, Dinny,” said Mr Rogers.
“Shure and I will, sor.”
“But be particularly careful not to fire in the direction where any one is coming. Remember a Snider is dangerous at a mile.”
“Is it now?” said Dinny. “But shure, sor, I want a gun, and I don’t care for your Sniders at all. What’s a Snider to do wid me? It’s a gun I want.”
“To kill wild beasts, Dinny?”
“That same, sor.”
“Well, then, take that Snider-rifle; it will kill at a tremendous distance.”
“What, that little bid of a thing, sor?”
“To be sure, man. Now take care, and you’ll have to keep it clean and free from rust as well.”
“Thanky, sor, and I will, and it will have too much to do for it to get rusty.”
“Well, Dinny, I trust you, mind, so be careful with your weapon.”
“Shure, sor, and I will,” said Dinny; and taking the Snider very carefully in his hands, he asked Jack to give him “a bit of showing how to trim thim,” and this Jack did till he was perfect, when Dinny went off with the rifle, muttering to himself.
“Think o’ that now!” he kept on saying, “that bit of a thing shooting a baste at a mile!”
Nothing more was said by Dinny, who had made his plans, and he kept his own secret of what he intended to do. On the following afternoon Chicory came to him in high glee, to claim the roast meat and cake promised, and he announced that he had found where the rhinoceros lived.
“How did you find him out?” said Dinny doubtingly.
“Track. Follow spoor,” said Chicory proudly.
“Oh, ye followed his spoor, did ye?” said Dinny. “Very well thin, it’s going to be a bright moonlight night, so ye can follow his spoor, and tak’ me wid ye.”
Chicory nodded eagerly, and in the course of the evening he came and beckoned to Dinny, who took the Snider, and put the cartridges in his pocket.
“Where are you going, Dinny?” said his master.
“Shure, jist for a bit o’ pleasure, sor,” he replied.
“Well, look out for the lions,” said Dick maliciously.
“Shure I niver thought o’ the lines,” muttered Dinny, “and they goo out a-walking av a night. I’d better shtay at home. Bother!” he cried angrily. “Shure the young masther did it to frecken me, and it’ll take a braver boy than him to do it anyhow.”
So Dinny marched off, and following Chicory, the boy led him at once over a rugged mountainous hill, and then into a part of the forest that was particularly dark, save where the moon, pretty well at its full, threw long paths of light between the trees.
Enjoining silence, the boy went cautiously forward, threading his way through the dark forest, till he halted beside a fallen monarch of the woods, a huge tree of such enormous proportions, that its gnarled trunk and branches completely stopped further progress; for it formed a stout barrier breast high, over which a man could fire at anything crossing the moonlit glade beyond.
The shape of the tree was such that a branch like a second trunk ran almost parallel to the main trunk, arching over the head of whoever used the old tree for a breastwork, and forming an additional protection should the occupant of the breastwork be attacked by any large animal.
“Stop there, you see noseros,” whispered Chicory.
“But shure ye wouldn’t have a man shtand there by himself, and all in the dark? Faix, there’s some wild baste or another shlaying me now.”
“See noseros then shoot,” whispered Chicory. “I stay here.”
The boy caught hold of a branch and swung himself up into a tree, where he perched himself and waited.
“Faix, he’s just like a little monkey, and not fit for the shociety of Christians,” muttered Dinny as he took his place by the great barrier, and, resting his rifle upon the trunk, waited.
Dinny felt in anything but a courageous mood, but as he had come so far upon his mission, he strung himself up to go on with it, and watched the open space before him, lit up by the moon which shone full upon his face.
“Maybe he’s only playing wid me, the black little haythen,” thought Dinny, “and there’s no big pig to be seen here at all. But he shan’t see that I’m a bit freckened annyhow, for I’ll shtand my ground till he comes down and says we’d better go.”
So Dinny stood watching there till he began to feel drowsy, and this made him lean against the great trunk, his head began to nod, and twice over he was pretty well asleep.
“Shure, an’ I’ll catch cowld if I do that,” he said to himself, as he gave himself a bit of a shake. “I don’t see what’s the good o’ waiting here, and—murther! look at that now.”
Dinny felt as if cold water was being poured over him as, all at once, he saw the great proportions of a rhinoceros standing out quite black against the bright moonlight, the animal being as motionless as if carved from the rock that lay in great masses around.
“Shure an’ it’s a big shtone, and nothing else, and—murther, it’s moving, and coming here.”
Dinny hardly knew himself how he did it, but in a kind of desperation he took aim at the rhinoceros, and drew trigger.
The result was a sharp crack, that seemed to echo into distance far away, and mingled with the echoes there was a furious grunting roar.
For Dinny had hit the rhinoceros. In fact, aiming at it as he did, with the barrel of his piece upon the large trunk, it would have been almost impossible to miss. But as he heard the roar Dinny turned and ran, stumbled, saved himself, and hid behind a tree.
“Murther, but it’s awful work,” he muttered, as his trembling fingers placed a second cartridge in the rifle.
Then, all being silent, Dinny stole out, and peering cautiously before him, crept towards the prostrate tree.
“Shure, I belave I’ve shot him dead,” he muttered, as he peered out into the open glade; but as he showed his face in the moonlight there was a furious snort, and Dinny turned and fled; for the rhinoceros charged right at the white face behind the prostrate tree, thrusting its monstrous head between the two huge limbs; and then, in spite of its prodigious strength being unable to get any further, it drew back, charged again, placed one hoof on the tree—but its efforts were in vain. Then it wrenched its head back, and retiring a short distance charged once more, Dinny watching it from behind a tree with blanched face and hands, trembling with excitement.
A practised hunter would have sent bullet after bullet crashing into the monster’s brain; but Dinny was not practised, and it was not until he had thoroughly convinced himself that the animal could not get through, that he stole out, and bending down, cautiously advanced nearer and nearer to the hugebeast, which snorted, and grunted, and squealed in its futile efforts to get at its assailant.
If it had gone twenty yards to its left, it could easily have passed the obstacle; but it was pig-like enough in its nature to keep on trying to force itself through the obstacle it had tried to pass, and seeing this, Dinny went on, gaining a little courage the while.
“Shure I’ll go close enough to make quite sartain,” he muttered; “but it’s like having a bad dhrame, that it is. Now where had I better shute him—in the mouth or the eye?”
He decided for the eye, and raising the rifle at last he took a long aim at not six feet distance, when the great beast uttered so furious a roar that Dinny turned once more, and fled behind the tree.
“Shure and what’d I be freckened of?” he said angrily. “Not of a baste like that.” And walking out once more he repeated his manoeuvres, approaching cautiously; and as the rhinoceros began straining, and sprang to force its way through, Dinny took careful aim at the monstrous beast, and fired.
“Shure it’s aisy enough,” he said, as the beast started back; and placing a fresh cartridge in his piece, he fired again at where the animal stood in the full moonlight swaying its head to and fro.
It was impossible to miss; and Dinny fired again and again, nine shots in all, growing encouraged by his success; and the result was that the monster fell over upon its side at last with a heavy thud, just as Chicory dropped to the ground, and made the hero jump by touching him on the back.
“Ah, be aisy; what are ye thrying to frecken a man for like that?” said Dinny. “But look at that, ye little haythen; that’s the way to shute. Now let’s go back and tell them they needn’t be alarmed about the big pig, for its Dinny himself that has done the thrick.”
Chapter Thirty Six.Dinny relates his Adventure.Dinny’s story was hardly believed when he walked into camp, but Chicory was there to corroborate his words, and the astonishment felt was intense.“You—you shoot a rhinoceros, Dinny!” said his master.“Shure and why not, yer hanner?” said Dinny. “Didn’t I borry the gun a’ purpose for that same? and didn’t the big baste stale my gyarments in the most ondacent way?”“But how? Where? Where?” was asked by father and sons, in a breath.“Shure an’ I’m the laste bit weary wid my exertions,” said Dinny, “and I’ll jist light me pipe and sit down and rest, and tell ye the while.”All in the most deliberate way, Dinny proceeded to light his pipe and rest; and then, with Chicory sitting in front with his arms tightly embracing his knees, and his eyes and mouth open, Dinny related his adventure with the rhinoceros.The late Sir Walter Scott in speaking of embellishing and exaggerating a story called it adding a cocked-hat and walking-stick.Dinny put not merely a cocked-hat and walking-stick to his story, but embellished it with a crown, sceptre, and royal robes of the most gorgeous colours. It was wonderful what he had done; the furious conduct of the rhinoceros, the daring he had displayed, the precision with which he had sought out vital parts to aim at. A more thrilling narrative had never been told, and Chicory’s eyes grew rounder and his mouth wider open in his astonishment and admiration, the hero going up wonderfully in the boy’s esteem, especially as he read in Dinny’s looks the promise of endless snacks and tastes when he was hungry.But all the same, Dinny’s flights of fancy grew a little too lofty for his other hearers.“Oh, I say, Dinny, come now,” said Dick, as his father sat back listening with a good-humoured smile upon his lip. “I’m not going to believe that a rhinoceros rose up on its hind legs and fought at you with its fore paws, while you stood still and aimed at it.”“Shure, Masther Dick, dear, did you ever know me say anything that wasn’t thrue? If ye doubt me word, there’s Masther Chicory there, as brave a boy as ever stepped in—I mane out of shoe leather, and spread his little black toes about in the sand. He was there all the toime, and ye can ax him if he didn’t see it.”“Yes,” said Chicory, “nosros try to get through big tree, and Dinny shoot um.”“There,” said Dinny triumphantly, “what did I tell you? Why, if ye don’t believe me, there’s the baste itself lying as dead as a hammer where I shot him.”“Then it’s only a little pig or a young rhinoceros, Dinny,” said Jack.“Little pig!” cried Dinny. “By this an’ by that, he’s as big as the waggon there, tub an’ all. Sure a bigger and more rampaging baste niver fought wid a human man, and tried hard to ate him.”“Why that shows what stuff you are telling us, Dinny. A rhinoceros wouldn’t eat a man; he’d trample him to death,” cried Dick, who had been a studious boy for years. “A rhinoceros is an herbivorous beast, and has a prehensile upper lip.”“A what sort o’ baste?” said Dinny, staring.“Herbivorous.”“Shure an’ what’s that got to do wid it? I tell you it tried to ate me at one mouthful, in spite of his what sort o’ upper lip. Shure the poor baste couldn’t help having that the matter wid his lip. Why as soon as I set eyes on him, ‘Ah, Dinny,’ I says, ‘yer work’s cut out, me boy,’ I says, ‘for if ever there was a baste wid a stiff upper lip that’s the one.’”“But I said a prehensile upper lip, Dinny,” cried Dick.“Shure I heard what ye said, Master Dick. I know. And a pretty rampaging baste he was. Wirra! If ye’d seen him foight. If ye’d heard him roar, and saw how I battled wid him till I’d laid him low wid tin bullets in his jacket. Ah, it was wonderful. But ye shall see the baste.”“Yes, I want to see him, Dinny,” said Jack.“Shure an’ I’ll be glad to take ye, Masther Jack, as soon as it’s light. But he was a brave baste, and fought well; and I felt sorry-like when I seen him go down.”“Did you though, Dinny?”“Shure an’ I did, Masther Dick, for I says to myself, ‘Ye’re a brave boy, an’ I dessay ye’ve got a mother somewhere as is very proud of ye, just as I’ve got wan meself. But I must shute ye,’ I says, ‘for the sake of the gintlemen wid the waggon, and the mischief ye’ve done,’ and so I did; an’ there he lies, Masther Dick, stretched out on his side; and pace to his ashes. I’ve done.”“Well, boys,” said Mr Rogers, speaking for the first time for some minutes, “I think we ought to congratulate ourselves upon the great accession we have discovered in Dinny. In future he shall accompany us in our attacks upon the lions and other furious beasts. I should not think of going after elephant now without Dinny.”That gentleman’s face was a study, as he listened to his master’s words. His nostrils twitched, his brows grew full of wrinkles, and his jaw dropped, letting his pipe fall from his lips; and though he picked it up directly after, the tobacco had gone out, and Dinny looked as if all the enjoyment had gone out of his life.Beyond the roaring of a lion or two, the night passed off very quietly, and as soon as it was broad day Chicory stood ready to lead the party to see the rhinoceros.“Come, Dinny, aren’t you ready?” cried Dick.“Shure an’ I don’t want to go, Masther Dick. I seen enough of the baste last night.”“Yes, but you must come and show us.”“Shure an’ Masther Chicory there will lade you to the very spot, and I couldn’t do any more. He lies did bechuckst two big lumps of sthone, an’, as I said, he’s as big as a waggin.”“Oh, but Dinny must come,” said Mr Rogers.“Shure an’ how will I get the breakfast riddy if I come, sor?” persisted Dinny. “I did my duty last night. You gintlemen must go and fetch him home.”But Dinny’s protestations passed unheeded, and he had to go with the party, shouldering his rifle like a raw recruit, but glancing uneasily to right and left as they went along.Dick observed this, and said quietly,—“What a lot of poisonous snakes there are amongst these stones!”Dinny gave a spasmodic jump, and lifting his feet gingerly, deposited them in the barest places he could find; and for the rest of the journey he did not once take his eyes off the ground.As it happened they had not gone fifty yards farther before they came upon a great swollen puff-adder, lying right in their path.Chicory saw it first, and shouted a word of warning, which made Dinny wheel round, and run away as hard as he could go, till the shouts of the others brought him back, looking terribly ashamed.“Oh, it’s wan o’ thim things, is it?” he said, looking at the writhing decapitated viper. “Shure I thought it was the jumping sort that springs up at yer ois, and stings ye before yer know where ye are. There was a cousin, of me mother’s went to live in Hampshire, and she got bit by wan o’ thim bastes in the fut, and it nearly killed her. Ye can’t be too careful.”Dinny felt as if he was being laughed at for the rest of the way, and looked quite sulky; but the sight of the great fallen tree, and the huge rhinoceros surrounded by vultures busily working a way through the tough hide, revived him, and he marched forward to examine his bullet holes with the look of pride worn by a conqueror.It was quite refreshing to see him walk up the hind leg of the rhinoceros, and then along its huge horny-hided body to the shoulder, where, lowering the rifle he carried, Dinny placed the stock upon the creature’s neck, and rested his arm upon the barrel, regarding his fallen foe in quite a contemplative manner.“Mind that rifle don’t go off, Dinny,” cried Jack.Dinny leaped off the rhinoceros and stared.“It’s a very dangerous thing to rest your arms on the muzzle of a gun,” said Dick, who enjoyed poor Dinny’s discomfiture.“Well, Dinny,” said his master, “I congratulate you upon having slain a monster. Where did you stand?”“Oh, over yonder somewhere,” said Dinny cavalierly. “Anywhere to get a good soight ov him.”“Stood here behind tree where nosros no get at um,” said Chicory, innocently, in his eagerness to explain all he could.“Ah, ye avil little baste,” muttered Dinny. “See if I give ye the laste taste of anything I’ve got. Ah, yes,” he said aloud, “I did get one shot at him from behind that big tree; but I cud see him best out in the open yander. Shure an’ how big is the baste, sor?” he added, as Mr Rogers ran a measuring tape along the animal from nose to tail.“Just over eleven feet, Dinny,” said Mr Rogers; and leaving the General to hew off the great blunt horn, they returned to breakfast.
Dinny’s story was hardly believed when he walked into camp, but Chicory was there to corroborate his words, and the astonishment felt was intense.
“You—you shoot a rhinoceros, Dinny!” said his master.
“Shure and why not, yer hanner?” said Dinny. “Didn’t I borry the gun a’ purpose for that same? and didn’t the big baste stale my gyarments in the most ondacent way?”
“But how? Where? Where?” was asked by father and sons, in a breath.
“Shure an’ I’m the laste bit weary wid my exertions,” said Dinny, “and I’ll jist light me pipe and sit down and rest, and tell ye the while.”
All in the most deliberate way, Dinny proceeded to light his pipe and rest; and then, with Chicory sitting in front with his arms tightly embracing his knees, and his eyes and mouth open, Dinny related his adventure with the rhinoceros.
The late Sir Walter Scott in speaking of embellishing and exaggerating a story called it adding a cocked-hat and walking-stick.
Dinny put not merely a cocked-hat and walking-stick to his story, but embellished it with a crown, sceptre, and royal robes of the most gorgeous colours. It was wonderful what he had done; the furious conduct of the rhinoceros, the daring he had displayed, the precision with which he had sought out vital parts to aim at. A more thrilling narrative had never been told, and Chicory’s eyes grew rounder and his mouth wider open in his astonishment and admiration, the hero going up wonderfully in the boy’s esteem, especially as he read in Dinny’s looks the promise of endless snacks and tastes when he was hungry.
But all the same, Dinny’s flights of fancy grew a little too lofty for his other hearers.
“Oh, I say, Dinny, come now,” said Dick, as his father sat back listening with a good-humoured smile upon his lip. “I’m not going to believe that a rhinoceros rose up on its hind legs and fought at you with its fore paws, while you stood still and aimed at it.”
“Shure, Masther Dick, dear, did you ever know me say anything that wasn’t thrue? If ye doubt me word, there’s Masther Chicory there, as brave a boy as ever stepped in—I mane out of shoe leather, and spread his little black toes about in the sand. He was there all the toime, and ye can ax him if he didn’t see it.”
“Yes,” said Chicory, “nosros try to get through big tree, and Dinny shoot um.”
“There,” said Dinny triumphantly, “what did I tell you? Why, if ye don’t believe me, there’s the baste itself lying as dead as a hammer where I shot him.”
“Then it’s only a little pig or a young rhinoceros, Dinny,” said Jack.
“Little pig!” cried Dinny. “By this an’ by that, he’s as big as the waggon there, tub an’ all. Sure a bigger and more rampaging baste niver fought wid a human man, and tried hard to ate him.”
“Why that shows what stuff you are telling us, Dinny. A rhinoceros wouldn’t eat a man; he’d trample him to death,” cried Dick, who had been a studious boy for years. “A rhinoceros is an herbivorous beast, and has a prehensile upper lip.”
“A what sort o’ baste?” said Dinny, staring.
“Herbivorous.”
“Shure an’ what’s that got to do wid it? I tell you it tried to ate me at one mouthful, in spite of his what sort o’ upper lip. Shure the poor baste couldn’t help having that the matter wid his lip. Why as soon as I set eyes on him, ‘Ah, Dinny,’ I says, ‘yer work’s cut out, me boy,’ I says, ‘for if ever there was a baste wid a stiff upper lip that’s the one.’”
“But I said a prehensile upper lip, Dinny,” cried Dick.
“Shure I heard what ye said, Master Dick. I know. And a pretty rampaging baste he was. Wirra! If ye’d seen him foight. If ye’d heard him roar, and saw how I battled wid him till I’d laid him low wid tin bullets in his jacket. Ah, it was wonderful. But ye shall see the baste.”
“Yes, I want to see him, Dinny,” said Jack.
“Shure an’ I’ll be glad to take ye, Masther Jack, as soon as it’s light. But he was a brave baste, and fought well; and I felt sorry-like when I seen him go down.”
“Did you though, Dinny?”
“Shure an’ I did, Masther Dick, for I says to myself, ‘Ye’re a brave boy, an’ I dessay ye’ve got a mother somewhere as is very proud of ye, just as I’ve got wan meself. But I must shute ye,’ I says, ‘for the sake of the gintlemen wid the waggon, and the mischief ye’ve done,’ and so I did; an’ there he lies, Masther Dick, stretched out on his side; and pace to his ashes. I’ve done.”
“Well, boys,” said Mr Rogers, speaking for the first time for some minutes, “I think we ought to congratulate ourselves upon the great accession we have discovered in Dinny. In future he shall accompany us in our attacks upon the lions and other furious beasts. I should not think of going after elephant now without Dinny.”
That gentleman’s face was a study, as he listened to his master’s words. His nostrils twitched, his brows grew full of wrinkles, and his jaw dropped, letting his pipe fall from his lips; and though he picked it up directly after, the tobacco had gone out, and Dinny looked as if all the enjoyment had gone out of his life.
Beyond the roaring of a lion or two, the night passed off very quietly, and as soon as it was broad day Chicory stood ready to lead the party to see the rhinoceros.
“Come, Dinny, aren’t you ready?” cried Dick.
“Shure an’ I don’t want to go, Masther Dick. I seen enough of the baste last night.”
“Yes, but you must come and show us.”
“Shure an’ Masther Chicory there will lade you to the very spot, and I couldn’t do any more. He lies did bechuckst two big lumps of sthone, an’, as I said, he’s as big as a waggin.”
“Oh, but Dinny must come,” said Mr Rogers.
“Shure an’ how will I get the breakfast riddy if I come, sor?” persisted Dinny. “I did my duty last night. You gintlemen must go and fetch him home.”
But Dinny’s protestations passed unheeded, and he had to go with the party, shouldering his rifle like a raw recruit, but glancing uneasily to right and left as they went along.
Dick observed this, and said quietly,—
“What a lot of poisonous snakes there are amongst these stones!”
Dinny gave a spasmodic jump, and lifting his feet gingerly, deposited them in the barest places he could find; and for the rest of the journey he did not once take his eyes off the ground.
As it happened they had not gone fifty yards farther before they came upon a great swollen puff-adder, lying right in their path.
Chicory saw it first, and shouted a word of warning, which made Dinny wheel round, and run away as hard as he could go, till the shouts of the others brought him back, looking terribly ashamed.
“Oh, it’s wan o’ thim things, is it?” he said, looking at the writhing decapitated viper. “Shure I thought it was the jumping sort that springs up at yer ois, and stings ye before yer know where ye are. There was a cousin, of me mother’s went to live in Hampshire, and she got bit by wan o’ thim bastes in the fut, and it nearly killed her. Ye can’t be too careful.”
Dinny felt as if he was being laughed at for the rest of the way, and looked quite sulky; but the sight of the great fallen tree, and the huge rhinoceros surrounded by vultures busily working a way through the tough hide, revived him, and he marched forward to examine his bullet holes with the look of pride worn by a conqueror.
It was quite refreshing to see him walk up the hind leg of the rhinoceros, and then along its huge horny-hided body to the shoulder, where, lowering the rifle he carried, Dinny placed the stock upon the creature’s neck, and rested his arm upon the barrel, regarding his fallen foe in quite a contemplative manner.
“Mind that rifle don’t go off, Dinny,” cried Jack.
Dinny leaped off the rhinoceros and stared.
“It’s a very dangerous thing to rest your arms on the muzzle of a gun,” said Dick, who enjoyed poor Dinny’s discomfiture.
“Well, Dinny,” said his master, “I congratulate you upon having slain a monster. Where did you stand?”
“Oh, over yonder somewhere,” said Dinny cavalierly. “Anywhere to get a good soight ov him.”
“Stood here behind tree where nosros no get at um,” said Chicory, innocently, in his eagerness to explain all he could.
“Ah, ye avil little baste,” muttered Dinny. “See if I give ye the laste taste of anything I’ve got. Ah, yes,” he said aloud, “I did get one shot at him from behind that big tree; but I cud see him best out in the open yander. Shure an’ how big is the baste, sor?” he added, as Mr Rogers ran a measuring tape along the animal from nose to tail.
“Just over eleven feet, Dinny,” said Mr Rogers; and leaving the General to hew off the great blunt horn, they returned to breakfast.
Chapter Thirty Seven.Dick tries the Vegetable Fish-Hooks.Directly breakfast was over they started—this time without Dinny, who seemed to be very nervous for fear he should be asked to go—to get some of the honey, Coffee and Chicory each carrying a zinc pail, and the General a small tub.Long before they reached the patch of forest-trees the little bird came fluttering and twittering about them, having apparently forgiven their past neglect, and then went on, and flew from bush to bush, leading them straight to the big trees, perching as before upon one close by, and then silently watching the manoeuvres of the party.The General was about to take the lead, but Coffee and Chicory uttered such a strong protest in their native tongue, that he smilingly handed his hatchet to Coffee; while Chicory collected some tolerably dry peaty growth, struck a light and set it on fire, causing a dense cloud of smoke to rise up round the tree that contained the wild honey, and stupefying and suffocating the bees that flew to and fro.The boys grinned with delight at their task, and danced about, heaping up the smoke-producing leaves and stalks, till feeling satisfied that they might ascend, there was a bit of an altercation as to who should go, ending in Chicory giving way to his brother as he had been ill.Coffee then took the axe and stuck it in his loin-cloth, and a patch of burning turf in his hand. Then nimbly climbed up to the hole, where he held the smoking turf before him, to keep off the bees from his naked body, and clinging tightly with his legs, he proceeded to ply the axe so vigorously, and with such skill, that the rotten bark soon gave way, the tree being little more than a shell, and he laid bare range upon range of the beautiful comb.A little more tearing away of the bark was necessary, and then Coffee descended for a pail and a knife, dispensing now with his burning turf, and going up to return with the pail full of delicious comb.This was turned into the General’s tub, and the boy ascended again, filled his pail and descended, and once more going up filled the other.The General then solemnly took a piece of the comb and placed it in the fork of a tree for the honey-guide, assuring those who looked on, that it was necessary to propitiate the bird and pay it for its services—a plan of which the little thing seemed highly to approve, for it flew to the comb at once, and began to feed.Enough having been procured to fill the pails and tub, Chicory, evidently approving of his brother’s sticky state, went up the tree in turn, and cut out three combs for present use, offering some to each of his masters, and then dividing the remainder between his father, brother, and self.In fact, after removing to a little distance from the hive-tree, all sat down and had a good feast of the delicious honey, Coffee and Chicory grinning with delight as they munched up the wax and sweet together.“Well, of all the sticky objects I ever saw, they beat everything,” said Dick, laughing. “Why, Coffee’s all over honey.”“Yes, tick all over,” said the boy, rubbing his finger down his chest, and then sucking it, for he had got to be pretty thickly smeared in carrying the honey down.“Didn’t the bees sting?” said Jack.“Only tiddlum’s back;” said Coffee, giving himself a writhe.“Yes, tiddlum’s back,” said Chicory, applying honey to three or four places upon his arms. “Don’t mind.”“No, don’t mind,” assented Coffee; and they filled their mouths full of honey and wax and cried, “Good, good, good.”They had spent so long over the journey for the honey that evening was coming on fast as they began to ride slowly back, Dick and Jack making excursions here and there in search of something fresh as they crossed a bushy plain strewn with great masses of stone, which rendered their progress very slow, any attempt at a trot or canter being absolutely madness, unless they wished to lame their steeds.“I wish we had got father’s glasses,” said Jack, “we might have seen something from this high ground.”“I have got them,” said Dick, gazing through the binocular at the prospect of undulating plain, across which his father and the Zulu were making their way now, quite a mile in advance. “I’ve got them, but I can only see some quagga right over yonder.”“I can see something close by,” cried Jack, pointing at a tall, dimly seen object that slowly passed out of a clump of bushes, and then went slowly forward into another.“What can you see?” said Dick.“Giraffe!” cried Jack.“Nonsense! Where?”“It just went into that clump of bushes there. Come on.”“No,” said Dick, “father’s making signals for us to go to him.”“But it’s such a pity to miss a chance,” cried Jack, unslinging his rifle.“Yes,” said Dick, “so it is, but I shouldn’t like father to think we did not attend to his signals. Mark the clump. There, we shall know it by these stones on this high ground; and—yes, Jack, you’re right. That must be a giraffe.”They stood watching the tall neck passing amongst the bushes, but it was getting very dark now, and they hurried on, so as to overtake the honey-bearers, reaching camp afterwardsquite safely, where, over their late dinner, the coming of the giraffes was discussed.“I’d have breakfast at daybreak, boys, if I were you,” said Mr Rogers, “and be off directly after.”“But you’ll come too, father?” said Jack.“No, my boys, I thought you would like to have a hunt by yourselves,” said Mr Rogers; when, seeing how disappointed the lads looked, he consented to come.The General stopped to keep the camp, and Coffee and Chicory seemed terribly disappointed at not being of the party; but upon receiving permission to take the dogs for a run, and a hunt all to themselves, they brightened up, and saw their masters go off without a murmur.It was a ride of some hours’ duration to get to the high ground where the giraffe had been seen, the fact of there being one, Mr Rogers said, showing that there was a little herd somewhere close by, and so it proved, for after cautiously approaching the place, riding with the greatest care, so as to avoid the great masses of stone hidden amongst the grass, three tall heads were seen peering about in a patch of trees quite half a mile away.A quiet approach was contrived, the hunters making, their way round to the far side of the clump of bushes, where some higher trees sheltered their approach—very barely though, for the giraffe’s long necks enabled them to peer over bushes and saplings of no mean height.But for this shelter the little herd would have been off at once, and they could have followed them at little better than a walk, on account of the rough stones and masses of rock.Practice had made them skilful at stalking, and keeping pretty close together, they gradually approached the patch of tall growth, when, in obedience to a signal from Mr Rogers, they separated, Dick and Jack going in opposite directions, and Mr Rogers waiting for a few moments to let the boys get a start, and then entering the bush himself.So well had the arrangement been timed, that father and sons met together just upon the other side, staring the one at the other.“Why, where are the giraffes?” cried Jack.“Yes, where are they?” said Dick, looking at his father, as if he thought he had taken them away. “Haven’t you seen them?”“Not I,” said Mr Rogers, laughing. “Why, boys, we must be sharper than this another time.”“But when did they go?” cried Dick.“I cannot tell,” replied his father, “unless it was when we were out of sight. They must have suspected danger, and gone off at full speed.”“What’s to be done now then?” said Jack.“Get up to the top of the nearest hill, and look round with the glass,” suggested Dick; and this was so evidently the best plan, that they started for an eminence about a mile away.Here they had not been a moment, and Mr Rogers had not had time to get out the glass, before Jack cried,—“There they go: I see them: scudding along through those bushes in the hollow there.”Stalking having proved unsuccessful the last time, they almost gave it up on this occasion, save that they trotted down the side of the hill away from the giraffes, and then cantered on so as to reach the same point as that for which the giraffes seemed to be making a long sweep of open plain, where they could put their horses to full speed.This time the giraffes were in sight as they rounded the corner of the hill, and shouting to the boys to each pick out one, Mr Rogers pushed his horse forward, and selecting the tallest of the herd, galloped on to cut it off from the rest of the herd.This needed little care, for the tall ungainly beast realised directly that it was being pursued, and separating from the herd, went off at a clumsy gallop, its neck outstretched, and its tail whisking about as it kept looking back at its pursuer.Jack picked out another, which made for the denser part, where the trees were thick, and in his excitement he gave his cob the rein, and away they went at racing pace.But Jack did not gain much upon the giraffe he had chosen, for almost before he had seen the colour of its spots at all closely, his horse, participating in its master’s eagerness, went at full speed under a long, low branch, and came out on the other side of the wood, but without Jack, who was swept violently out of his saddle by the low bough, which swung violently to and fro for a few moments, and then deposited Jack softly in a sitting posture upon the ground. The boy rose to rub his chest very softly, and then feeling to see whether he was all right, he went on in chase of his horse, which he overtook standing very patiently just outside the patch of forest, looking wonderingly at him, as if asking why he had left its back.“What a nuisance!” grumbled Jack; “and I daresay they’ve both shot giraffes by this time. How unlucky, to be sure!”He lifted the reins from his horse’s feet, and thrusting them over its head, mounted again, but not comfortably, for Jack felt very sore across the chest where the bough had struck him.From this post of vantage he could see his father in the distance still in chase of the giraffe; but though he looked in various directions, there was no Dick.“Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!”Jack started to look in the direction from whence the sound had come, but he could see nothing. He, however, responded to the call, and it was repeated, evidently from a patch of wood half a mile distant.As he cantered towards it, the signal rang out again.“Dick’s brought down his giraffe very quickly,” said Jack. “Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!”“Here! Hoi! Jack!” came now from pretty close to him—but in a dense part of the patch of trees; and riding up, there was Dick, with his horse standing perfectly still and looking at him.“Come along,” cried Jack. “Where’s your giraffe?”“I don’t know. Where’s yours?”“Miles away. I galloped under a tree, and was pulled off my horse, such a bang.”“We came right into these thorns,” said Dick, “and have been here ever since.”“What! can’t you get out?”“Get out? No. It’s horrible. I’m caught all over, and poor old Shoes just the same. Directly I try to make him stir, he begins to kick, and when he kicks it’s awful. They’re like fish-hooks, and I’m torn to pieces.”Jack began to laugh.“Ah, yes, you may laugh,” said his brother; “but you wouldn’t like it.”“No,” laughed Jack, “but you do look such a jolly old guy stuck up there, I can’t help laughing.”“But do try and help me out.”“How?” said Jack.“Oh, I don’t know. Stand still, Shoes, do! Oh, I say, don’t kick again, pray don’t! Good old horse then.”Shoes whinnied as his master patted and talked to him, but the thorns pricked him so at even this light movement, that the poor animal stamped angrily, and snorted as he pawed the ground.In spite of his intense desire to laugh, Jack saw that matters were really serious for his brother; and leaping off, he threw down his reins at his horse’s feet, whipped out his great hunting-knife, and proceeded to cut and hack away the thorns by which his brother and his horse were surrounded.They were indeed like fish-hooks, and so sharp and strong, that once in amongst them no one could have escaped without having clothes and skin ploughed and torn in a terrible way.Shoes stood perfectly still now. He snorted at times and twitched the skin of his withers, turning his great eyes appealingly to Jack, who plied his heavy sheath-knife so effectively that at last the mass of thorns was sufficiently hacked away to allow horse and rider to move.Fortunately for Dick, he was a clever horseman. Had he ridden like some people, who hang a leg on each side of a horse and call that riding, he must have been thrown. For at the first touch to start him, Shoes was so eager to get out of the thorny torture to which he had been subjected, that he made a tremendous bound, and alighted clear, trembling and sweating profusely.“Oh, I say, Jack, I am scratched,” grumbled Dick, giving himself soft rubs all over. “Don’t laugh. It does hurt so.”“But I feel as if I can’t help it,” cried Jack, who burst into a fresh roar.“I don’t think I should have laughed at poor old Dinny, if I had known how it hurts. Those thorns are nearly as sharp as needles.”“Well, there, I won’t laugh any more; but you weren’t tossed up on the thorns by a rhinoceros. Come along. Let’s go after father;” and they set off, but very gently, for Dick’s face was screwed into a fresh grimace at every motion of the horse, while the poor beast itself was marked with little tiny beads of blood all over its satin skin.
Directly breakfast was over they started—this time without Dinny, who seemed to be very nervous for fear he should be asked to go—to get some of the honey, Coffee and Chicory each carrying a zinc pail, and the General a small tub.
Long before they reached the patch of forest-trees the little bird came fluttering and twittering about them, having apparently forgiven their past neglect, and then went on, and flew from bush to bush, leading them straight to the big trees, perching as before upon one close by, and then silently watching the manoeuvres of the party.
The General was about to take the lead, but Coffee and Chicory uttered such a strong protest in their native tongue, that he smilingly handed his hatchet to Coffee; while Chicory collected some tolerably dry peaty growth, struck a light and set it on fire, causing a dense cloud of smoke to rise up round the tree that contained the wild honey, and stupefying and suffocating the bees that flew to and fro.
The boys grinned with delight at their task, and danced about, heaping up the smoke-producing leaves and stalks, till feeling satisfied that they might ascend, there was a bit of an altercation as to who should go, ending in Chicory giving way to his brother as he had been ill.
Coffee then took the axe and stuck it in his loin-cloth, and a patch of burning turf in his hand. Then nimbly climbed up to the hole, where he held the smoking turf before him, to keep off the bees from his naked body, and clinging tightly with his legs, he proceeded to ply the axe so vigorously, and with such skill, that the rotten bark soon gave way, the tree being little more than a shell, and he laid bare range upon range of the beautiful comb.
A little more tearing away of the bark was necessary, and then Coffee descended for a pail and a knife, dispensing now with his burning turf, and going up to return with the pail full of delicious comb.
This was turned into the General’s tub, and the boy ascended again, filled his pail and descended, and once more going up filled the other.
The General then solemnly took a piece of the comb and placed it in the fork of a tree for the honey-guide, assuring those who looked on, that it was necessary to propitiate the bird and pay it for its services—a plan of which the little thing seemed highly to approve, for it flew to the comb at once, and began to feed.
Enough having been procured to fill the pails and tub, Chicory, evidently approving of his brother’s sticky state, went up the tree in turn, and cut out three combs for present use, offering some to each of his masters, and then dividing the remainder between his father, brother, and self.
In fact, after removing to a little distance from the hive-tree, all sat down and had a good feast of the delicious honey, Coffee and Chicory grinning with delight as they munched up the wax and sweet together.
“Well, of all the sticky objects I ever saw, they beat everything,” said Dick, laughing. “Why, Coffee’s all over honey.”
“Yes, tick all over,” said the boy, rubbing his finger down his chest, and then sucking it, for he had got to be pretty thickly smeared in carrying the honey down.
“Didn’t the bees sting?” said Jack.
“Only tiddlum’s back;” said Coffee, giving himself a writhe.
“Yes, tiddlum’s back,” said Chicory, applying honey to three or four places upon his arms. “Don’t mind.”
“No, don’t mind,” assented Coffee; and they filled their mouths full of honey and wax and cried, “Good, good, good.”
They had spent so long over the journey for the honey that evening was coming on fast as they began to ride slowly back, Dick and Jack making excursions here and there in search of something fresh as they crossed a bushy plain strewn with great masses of stone, which rendered their progress very slow, any attempt at a trot or canter being absolutely madness, unless they wished to lame their steeds.
“I wish we had got father’s glasses,” said Jack, “we might have seen something from this high ground.”
“I have got them,” said Dick, gazing through the binocular at the prospect of undulating plain, across which his father and the Zulu were making their way now, quite a mile in advance. “I’ve got them, but I can only see some quagga right over yonder.”
“I can see something close by,” cried Jack, pointing at a tall, dimly seen object that slowly passed out of a clump of bushes, and then went slowly forward into another.
“What can you see?” said Dick.
“Giraffe!” cried Jack.
“Nonsense! Where?”
“It just went into that clump of bushes there. Come on.”
“No,” said Dick, “father’s making signals for us to go to him.”
“But it’s such a pity to miss a chance,” cried Jack, unslinging his rifle.
“Yes,” said Dick, “so it is, but I shouldn’t like father to think we did not attend to his signals. Mark the clump. There, we shall know it by these stones on this high ground; and—yes, Jack, you’re right. That must be a giraffe.”
They stood watching the tall neck passing amongst the bushes, but it was getting very dark now, and they hurried on, so as to overtake the honey-bearers, reaching camp afterwardsquite safely, where, over their late dinner, the coming of the giraffes was discussed.
“I’d have breakfast at daybreak, boys, if I were you,” said Mr Rogers, “and be off directly after.”
“But you’ll come too, father?” said Jack.
“No, my boys, I thought you would like to have a hunt by yourselves,” said Mr Rogers; when, seeing how disappointed the lads looked, he consented to come.
The General stopped to keep the camp, and Coffee and Chicory seemed terribly disappointed at not being of the party; but upon receiving permission to take the dogs for a run, and a hunt all to themselves, they brightened up, and saw their masters go off without a murmur.
It was a ride of some hours’ duration to get to the high ground where the giraffe had been seen, the fact of there being one, Mr Rogers said, showing that there was a little herd somewhere close by, and so it proved, for after cautiously approaching the place, riding with the greatest care, so as to avoid the great masses of stone hidden amongst the grass, three tall heads were seen peering about in a patch of trees quite half a mile away.
A quiet approach was contrived, the hunters making, their way round to the far side of the clump of bushes, where some higher trees sheltered their approach—very barely though, for the giraffe’s long necks enabled them to peer over bushes and saplings of no mean height.
But for this shelter the little herd would have been off at once, and they could have followed them at little better than a walk, on account of the rough stones and masses of rock.
Practice had made them skilful at stalking, and keeping pretty close together, they gradually approached the patch of tall growth, when, in obedience to a signal from Mr Rogers, they separated, Dick and Jack going in opposite directions, and Mr Rogers waiting for a few moments to let the boys get a start, and then entering the bush himself.
So well had the arrangement been timed, that father and sons met together just upon the other side, staring the one at the other.
“Why, where are the giraffes?” cried Jack.
“Yes, where are they?” said Dick, looking at his father, as if he thought he had taken them away. “Haven’t you seen them?”
“Not I,” said Mr Rogers, laughing. “Why, boys, we must be sharper than this another time.”
“But when did they go?” cried Dick.
“I cannot tell,” replied his father, “unless it was when we were out of sight. They must have suspected danger, and gone off at full speed.”
“What’s to be done now then?” said Jack.
“Get up to the top of the nearest hill, and look round with the glass,” suggested Dick; and this was so evidently the best plan, that they started for an eminence about a mile away.
Here they had not been a moment, and Mr Rogers had not had time to get out the glass, before Jack cried,—
“There they go: I see them: scudding along through those bushes in the hollow there.”
Stalking having proved unsuccessful the last time, they almost gave it up on this occasion, save that they trotted down the side of the hill away from the giraffes, and then cantered on so as to reach the same point as that for which the giraffes seemed to be making a long sweep of open plain, where they could put their horses to full speed.
This time the giraffes were in sight as they rounded the corner of the hill, and shouting to the boys to each pick out one, Mr Rogers pushed his horse forward, and selecting the tallest of the herd, galloped on to cut it off from the rest of the herd.
This needed little care, for the tall ungainly beast realised directly that it was being pursued, and separating from the herd, went off at a clumsy gallop, its neck outstretched, and its tail whisking about as it kept looking back at its pursuer.
Jack picked out another, which made for the denser part, where the trees were thick, and in his excitement he gave his cob the rein, and away they went at racing pace.
But Jack did not gain much upon the giraffe he had chosen, for almost before he had seen the colour of its spots at all closely, his horse, participating in its master’s eagerness, went at full speed under a long, low branch, and came out on the other side of the wood, but without Jack, who was swept violently out of his saddle by the low bough, which swung violently to and fro for a few moments, and then deposited Jack softly in a sitting posture upon the ground. The boy rose to rub his chest very softly, and then feeling to see whether he was all right, he went on in chase of his horse, which he overtook standing very patiently just outside the patch of forest, looking wonderingly at him, as if asking why he had left its back.
“What a nuisance!” grumbled Jack; “and I daresay they’ve both shot giraffes by this time. How unlucky, to be sure!”
He lifted the reins from his horse’s feet, and thrusting them over its head, mounted again, but not comfortably, for Jack felt very sore across the chest where the bough had struck him.
From this post of vantage he could see his father in the distance still in chase of the giraffe; but though he looked in various directions, there was no Dick.
“Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!”
Jack started to look in the direction from whence the sound had come, but he could see nothing. He, however, responded to the call, and it was repeated, evidently from a patch of wood half a mile distant.
As he cantered towards it, the signal rang out again.
“Dick’s brought down his giraffe very quickly,” said Jack. “Whoo-hoo-hoo-hoop!”
“Here! Hoi! Jack!” came now from pretty close to him—but in a dense part of the patch of trees; and riding up, there was Dick, with his horse standing perfectly still and looking at him.
“Come along,” cried Jack. “Where’s your giraffe?”
“I don’t know. Where’s yours?”
“Miles away. I galloped under a tree, and was pulled off my horse, such a bang.”
“We came right into these thorns,” said Dick, “and have been here ever since.”
“What! can’t you get out?”
“Get out? No. It’s horrible. I’m caught all over, and poor old Shoes just the same. Directly I try to make him stir, he begins to kick, and when he kicks it’s awful. They’re like fish-hooks, and I’m torn to pieces.”
Jack began to laugh.
“Ah, yes, you may laugh,” said his brother; “but you wouldn’t like it.”
“No,” laughed Jack, “but you do look such a jolly old guy stuck up there, I can’t help laughing.”
“But do try and help me out.”
“How?” said Jack.
“Oh, I don’t know. Stand still, Shoes, do! Oh, I say, don’t kick again, pray don’t! Good old horse then.”
Shoes whinnied as his master patted and talked to him, but the thorns pricked him so at even this light movement, that the poor animal stamped angrily, and snorted as he pawed the ground.
In spite of his intense desire to laugh, Jack saw that matters were really serious for his brother; and leaping off, he threw down his reins at his horse’s feet, whipped out his great hunting-knife, and proceeded to cut and hack away the thorns by which his brother and his horse were surrounded.
They were indeed like fish-hooks, and so sharp and strong, that once in amongst them no one could have escaped without having clothes and skin ploughed and torn in a terrible way.
Shoes stood perfectly still now. He snorted at times and twitched the skin of his withers, turning his great eyes appealingly to Jack, who plied his heavy sheath-knife so effectively that at last the mass of thorns was sufficiently hacked away to allow horse and rider to move.
Fortunately for Dick, he was a clever horseman. Had he ridden like some people, who hang a leg on each side of a horse and call that riding, he must have been thrown. For at the first touch to start him, Shoes was so eager to get out of the thorny torture to which he had been subjected, that he made a tremendous bound, and alighted clear, trembling and sweating profusely.
“Oh, I say, Jack, I am scratched,” grumbled Dick, giving himself soft rubs all over. “Don’t laugh. It does hurt so.”
“But I feel as if I can’t help it,” cried Jack, who burst into a fresh roar.
“I don’t think I should have laughed at poor old Dinny, if I had known how it hurts. Those thorns are nearly as sharp as needles.”
“Well, there, I won’t laugh any more; but you weren’t tossed up on the thorns by a rhinoceros. Come along. Let’s go after father;” and they set off, but very gently, for Dick’s face was screwed into a fresh grimace at every motion of the horse, while the poor beast itself was marked with little tiny beads of blood all over its satin skin.
Chapter Thirty Eight.Father shoots a Giraffe.Meanwhile, believing that the boys were in full chase of a giraffe a-piece, Mr Rogers had galloped on after the great creature he had cut off from the herd, though for a time he could not gain upon it at all. The beast’s mode of progression was very ungainly, and its great stilted legs moved in an awkward manner, but it got over the ground very fast.Still the plain was open and offered good galloping ground, and after a very long stern-chase Mr Rogers saw tokens of the great beast beginning to give way, and thereupon pushed forward, the bay responding to the calls he made upon it, so that he was soon alongside.His rifle was ready, but he hesitated to use it, preferring to gallop on and watch the great creature which towered up to double the height he sat upon his horse. It kept panting on, whisking its tail, and once or twice it made an awkward side-wise kick at the horse, but it was ill-directed and of none effect; while at last feeling that he was torturing the great beast, he levelled his gun, but his sight was disarranged by another fierce kick, which made the horse bound aside.Again they thundered on for some distance, when, steadying his horse so as to get a good aim, Mr Rogers levelled, fired, and the monster came down with a crash, shot through the head.As the great giraffe lay motionless, Mr Rogers leaped down, after looking to see if his boys were coming; and then loosening his horse’s girths he let it graze amongst the rich grass thatgrew in patches here and there, while, after refreshing himself a little, he drew his hunting-knife and proceeded dexterously to skin the great animal, which must have stood about nineteen feet from horn to hoof.For the skin of the giraffe—if a fine one—is worth three or four pounds, and this was in magnificent condition.It was a hard task that skinning, but the long legs acted as levers when he wanted to turn the creature over, and the busily employed time skipped away, quite three hours having elapsed before Dick and Jack rode up.“Why, what a magnificent skin, father,” cried Dick, as he stood admiring the creamy drab, splashed and spotted with great patches of a rich yellowish brown. “What a monster, and what a height!”“Yes,” said Mr Rogers. “But I’ve had enough of this, boys. The great gentle beast looked so piteous and appealing at me that I feel ashamed of having killed it. You must shoot one a-piece I suppose, but after that let’s get to the savage animals again. One feels to have done a good deed in ridding the country of one of those brutes. Did you both kill yours?”“No, father,” they cried in chorus; and after helping to cut off the marrow-bones of the great beast to carry home, for a roast, the marrow being esteemed a delicacy; the heavy skin was mounted before Mr Rogers, and a couple of marrow-bones a-piece proving a load, they rode slowly for the camp, Mr Rogers listening to the account of his boys’ mishaps, both showing traces of having been in the wars.Evening was coming on fast, and their progress was necessarily slow; but it was not until it had turned quite dark, that the fact became evident that they had lost their way out there on that great wild.They drew rein and looked around, but not a single familiar landmark was in sight. On the contrary, all loomed up strange and peculiar.To have gone on meant only wearying themselves in vain, and perhaps an unpleasant encounter with lions; so they made straight for the nearest patch of wood, secured their horses, and rapidly hacked off and collected enough wood for a fire, to do duty in a threefold way—giving them warmth, safety from prowling beasts, and cooking the huge marrow-bones, which were soon set down to roast, and formed, with the biscuits they carried, no despicable meal.Such nights passed by a blazing fire on the edge of a wood sound very romantic, but they lose their attraction when tried. Hot as Africa is by day, icy winds often blow by night, and they will freeze the hunter inside the shelter of a tent; the coolness then of a night without shelter can be understood. The fire burnt one side, but, as Jack said, without you made the fire all round you, it was no good, and that they could not do.No one felt disposed to sleep, so they sat and warmed themselves as best they could, drawing the great giraffe skin round them for warmth. Then they talked till they were weary, and afterwards got up to pat and comfort their horses.It was very wearisome that night, but free from adventure; and the moment it was light they mounted and rode to the nearest eminence, from which they made out land-marks which enabled them to find their way back to camp, where the General and his two boys were missing, having gone out, as they said in their trouble, because Mr Rogers and the boys had not returned—“to look for Boss;” their joy knowing no bounds when they came back in a couple of hours, without finding those they had sought, and seeing them waiting there.
Meanwhile, believing that the boys were in full chase of a giraffe a-piece, Mr Rogers had galloped on after the great creature he had cut off from the herd, though for a time he could not gain upon it at all. The beast’s mode of progression was very ungainly, and its great stilted legs moved in an awkward manner, but it got over the ground very fast.
Still the plain was open and offered good galloping ground, and after a very long stern-chase Mr Rogers saw tokens of the great beast beginning to give way, and thereupon pushed forward, the bay responding to the calls he made upon it, so that he was soon alongside.
His rifle was ready, but he hesitated to use it, preferring to gallop on and watch the great creature which towered up to double the height he sat upon his horse. It kept panting on, whisking its tail, and once or twice it made an awkward side-wise kick at the horse, but it was ill-directed and of none effect; while at last feeling that he was torturing the great beast, he levelled his gun, but his sight was disarranged by another fierce kick, which made the horse bound aside.
Again they thundered on for some distance, when, steadying his horse so as to get a good aim, Mr Rogers levelled, fired, and the monster came down with a crash, shot through the head.
As the great giraffe lay motionless, Mr Rogers leaped down, after looking to see if his boys were coming; and then loosening his horse’s girths he let it graze amongst the rich grass thatgrew in patches here and there, while, after refreshing himself a little, he drew his hunting-knife and proceeded dexterously to skin the great animal, which must have stood about nineteen feet from horn to hoof.
For the skin of the giraffe—if a fine one—is worth three or four pounds, and this was in magnificent condition.
It was a hard task that skinning, but the long legs acted as levers when he wanted to turn the creature over, and the busily employed time skipped away, quite three hours having elapsed before Dick and Jack rode up.
“Why, what a magnificent skin, father,” cried Dick, as he stood admiring the creamy drab, splashed and spotted with great patches of a rich yellowish brown. “What a monster, and what a height!”
“Yes,” said Mr Rogers. “But I’ve had enough of this, boys. The great gentle beast looked so piteous and appealing at me that I feel ashamed of having killed it. You must shoot one a-piece I suppose, but after that let’s get to the savage animals again. One feels to have done a good deed in ridding the country of one of those brutes. Did you both kill yours?”
“No, father,” they cried in chorus; and after helping to cut off the marrow-bones of the great beast to carry home, for a roast, the marrow being esteemed a delicacy; the heavy skin was mounted before Mr Rogers, and a couple of marrow-bones a-piece proving a load, they rode slowly for the camp, Mr Rogers listening to the account of his boys’ mishaps, both showing traces of having been in the wars.
Evening was coming on fast, and their progress was necessarily slow; but it was not until it had turned quite dark, that the fact became evident that they had lost their way out there on that great wild.
They drew rein and looked around, but not a single familiar landmark was in sight. On the contrary, all loomed up strange and peculiar.
To have gone on meant only wearying themselves in vain, and perhaps an unpleasant encounter with lions; so they made straight for the nearest patch of wood, secured their horses, and rapidly hacked off and collected enough wood for a fire, to do duty in a threefold way—giving them warmth, safety from prowling beasts, and cooking the huge marrow-bones, which were soon set down to roast, and formed, with the biscuits they carried, no despicable meal.
Such nights passed by a blazing fire on the edge of a wood sound very romantic, but they lose their attraction when tried. Hot as Africa is by day, icy winds often blow by night, and they will freeze the hunter inside the shelter of a tent; the coolness then of a night without shelter can be understood. The fire burnt one side, but, as Jack said, without you made the fire all round you, it was no good, and that they could not do.
No one felt disposed to sleep, so they sat and warmed themselves as best they could, drawing the great giraffe skin round them for warmth. Then they talked till they were weary, and afterwards got up to pat and comfort their horses.
It was very wearisome that night, but free from adventure; and the moment it was light they mounted and rode to the nearest eminence, from which they made out land-marks which enabled them to find their way back to camp, where the General and his two boys were missing, having gone out, as they said in their trouble, because Mr Rogers and the boys had not returned—“to look for Boss;” their joy knowing no bounds when they came back in a couple of hours, without finding those they had sought, and seeing them waiting there.