He was bound for new hunting-grounds, far beyond Leichtberg, at which place Paddy O'Brian was to take leave of him.
"What in the world is the matter with those horses?"
Oscar had just finished writing up his diary, and was getting ready to tumble into his cot. The camp, which had been made in the edge of a little grove a quarter of a mile from the nearest water-hole, had been put in order for the night.
The trek-tow was stretched from one of the hind wheels of the wagon to a tree that stood twenty yards away, and to this the oxen were tied. The horses were fastened to the rear of the vehicle, and under it were all the dogs and three goats which Oscar had purchased of Mr. Lawrence.
Paddy O'Brian was sitting on the dissel-boom smoking his pipe. A little distance away a fire was burning brightly, and aroundit were seated the Kaffir interpreter and the two Hottentots, who had erected a high fence of thorn bushes to protect them from the attack of any hungry beast which might be disposed to make a meal of one of their number.
It was the first time they had taken this precaution, and when Oscar saw them building the fence he told himself that at last he had got into a country in which dangerous animals abounded.
The reader will bear in mind that when our hero hunted in Africa game was by no means as plenty as it was in Gordon Cumming's day.
The settlers, who increased in numbers every year, made savage war upon the antelope to supply their tables, and upon the beasts of prey to protect their flocks and herds, and now it was a rare thing to find any very dangerous animal between Zurnst and the coast. Consequently Oscar had thus far been allowed to pass his nights in peace.
The building of that fence of thorn bushes, however, was as good evidence as he needed to show him that he might begin to expecttrouble now, and, in fact, it came that very night.
While he was writing in his diary, by the dim light of a lantern, using the fore-chest for a desk, Little Gray and his mate suddenly began pulling at their halters, and snorting as if they were greatly alarmed about something, whereupon the men about the fire brought their conversation to a close, and the Kaffir arose and peered into the darkness.
"Now, then, what's the matter with the cattle?" exclaimed Oscar, who knew by the sudden jar communicated to the wagon that the oxen had also become alarmed, and were pulling at the trek-tow. "If there is any varmint about why don't the dogs say so? Go out there and speak to the horses, Paddy, and I will look around a bit."
After putting his writing materials away in one of the pockets that hung against the arches by which the tent was supported Oscar picked up a rifle, and made the circuit of the camp, much to the surprise and dismay of his native servants, one of whom called out in his broken English:
"Hi, baas! you'd best have a care. Something might spring out at you."
Itwasrather a dangerous proceeding to stroll around in the darkness, so far away from the protecting glare of the camp-fire, and the thought that possibly there might be some beast of prey loitering about, waiting for his supper, made the boy's heart beat a little faster than usual; but his hand was as steady as a rock.
He had unbounded confidence in himself. He knew that he seldom missed his aim, and he calculated to make a specimen of the first animal that showed himself.
He walked around the camp without seeing anything (there was something there that sawhim, however, and made all haste to get out of his way), and as the horses and oxen had by this time become quiet he climbed into the wagon and went to sleep.
About midnight a terrible hubbub arose. The first thing that Oscar heard was the bleating of one of the goats that were tied under the wagon.
Then the dogs barked vociferously, thehorses snorted and tried hard to escape from their fastenings, the oxen bellowed and pulled at the trek-tow, and the native servants shouted in chorus, and ran toward the wagon, waving aloft the blazing brands they had snatched from the fire.
Oscar, always cool and collected, sprang out of his cot and caught up a rifle, while Paddy O'Brian—who had doubtless been dreaming of Donnybrook Fair—rolled off the fore-chest, with his ready stick in his hand. It is probable that he had heard of the instructions given by one of his countrymen to a novice during a riot, "Whenever you see a head hit it," for he carried it out to the very letter.
"Hurrouch!" yelled Paddy, striking up a war-dance, and twirling his stick in his hand. "Sorra one of me knows what the foight is about, but take that, ye spalpeen!"
As he uttered these words he brought his stick down in the most approved fashion, and it landed on the head of Big Thompson (who just then came rushing up with a firebrand in one hand and an assegai in the other), flooring him in an instant.
Had it been a white man's head the consequences might have been serious; but the Kaffir's thick skull was his protection. He was on his feet again in a twinkling, and the honest Irishman was never before so near death as he was when the native drew back his spear in readiness for a throw.
"Hould aisy, ye blackguard!" cried Paddy, who was now wide awake.
At that instant Oscar Preston sprang between him and the enraged Kaffir, and the native, cowed by his employer's bold front, and not liking the looks of the rifle he held in his hands, all ready for a shot, lowered his spear and walked back to the fire.
The next thing was to ascertain the cause of the disturbance. One of the goats was missing; that fact was established at once, for the piteous bleatings of the poor animal could be heard growing fainter and fainter as the daring robber hurried away.
All attempt at rescue would have been unavailing, and, to tell the truth, Oscar did not think of making any.
The night was pitch dark, and the actions ofthe dogs, which followed close upon the heels of the robber and barked at him, but dared not lay hold of him, made the boy believe that the animal was one that had better be left alone.
What species he belonged to Oscar, of course, could not tell, but everything proved that he had been very sly about his work.
He had taken his prey from under the very noses of the sleeping dogs, and neither they nor the horses or oxen knew that there was anything wrong until they were alarmed by the bleating of the goat.
"He must have been a powerful as well as a cunning beast," thought Oscar as he examined the broken rope, which was almost as large as a clothes line. "That goat must have weighed sixty or seventy pounds. When Mr. Lawrence gave me those hounds he assured me that they would attack anything from a porcupine to a leopard; but they didn't dare take hold of this fellow. Where was he, I wonder, while I was walking about the camp? Whew! I don't want anything to do with such a varmint in the dark."
The dogs came in one after another; and when quiet had been restored Oscar went to bed again.
It was a long time before Big Thompson forgave the Irishman for knocking him down. He looked savagely at Paddy whenever the latter came near him, and muttered something between his clenched teeth, and it took a good share of Paddy's tobacco to restore the Kaffir to his usual good nature.
After this nothing worthy of interest happened until the wagon reached Leichtberg, where Paddy O'Brian was to leave Oscar's employ.
Oscar had letters of introduction to Mr. Evans, an English gentleman living in Leichtberg, and, as usual, he was cordially received.
During the progress of one of his conversations with Mr. Evans, who, like all the rest of those whose acquaintance he had made since leaving his native land, was an ardent and experienced sportsman, Oscar spoke of the loss of his goat, and asked what sort of an animal it was that carried it off.
"It was a hyena—a spotted hyena—the pestof this country," replied his host. "It was well for your dogs that they did not take hold of him, for he would have made mince-meat of the whole pack before they could have yelped twice. In point of cunning and rapacity, the spotted hyena surpasses every beast of prey in Africa. I except nothing. An animal that can take a child out of its mother's arms when both are asleep, and get away with it without alarming anybody, would not have much difficulty in stealing a goat from under a wagon, would he?"
Oscar could only look the surprise that these words occasioned.
"What I am about to tell you I know to be a fact, although you will scarcely credit it," continued Mr. Evans. "When I first came to this country wolves, as we call them here, were in the habit of paying regular nightly visits to the streets of Cape Town, and it was not so very long ago that their howling (the cries they utter sound more like laughing than howling, and for that reason they are sometimes called laughing hyenas) was heard from Table Mountain.
"In the Kaffir country they are so numerous and daring that they make a business of entering the villages of the natives and carrying off young children. When a native builds a house, which is in form something like an old-fashioned straw bee-hive, the floor is raised two or three feet from the ground, and covers only part of the house—the back part. In the space between this raised floor and the door, which is nothing but a piece of antelope hide, the calves are tied every night, for protection from the storms and from wild beasts. Now you would suppose that when a wolf got into one of these houses he would grab the first thing he came to, but he won't do it. He'll not look at lambs or calves if he has once tasted human flesh. He will pass them without alarming them, get upon the raised floor, and take a child from under its mother's kaross, and he will do it in so gentle and cautious a manner that no one is awakened. What do you think of that?"
Oscar did not know what to think of it. It beat anything he had ever heard of.
"What are the habits of these hyenas?" asked Oscar after a few moments' pause. "What do they do with themselves during the daytime? I should like to know all about them, for I want to take a specimen or two back with me."
"I certainly hope you will succeed in getting one; but if you do it will be more by good luck than good management," replied his new friend. "I have hunted in this country for sixteen years, and during that time I have shot but very few of them. They do the most of their hunting in the night. During the daytime they are hidden away among the rocks in ravines so dark and gloomy that you would think twice before going into one of them. I never heard of a hunter being attacked by them, but I shouldnot like to press one too closely. If I came upon him unawares I shouldn't feel easy until he was dead or disabled."
"Couldn't I trap one of them?" asked Oscar.
"There's not one chance in a thousand," was the reply. "They are very cunning."
The longer Oscar talked with his host, and the more he learned about these fierce and wary animals, the more determined he became to secure one of them by some means or other.
He succeeded, too, by what he then considered to be a stroke of good fortune, although he afterward wondered if his prize did not cost him more than it was worth.
"By the way," said Mr. Evans after he had told the young hunter all he knew about hyenas and their habits, "what are you going to do now that your cook has left you?"
"I don't know," answered Oscar. "I suppose I shall have to hire a native."
"And go into the wilderness with no one to talk to?" exclaimed Mr. Evans. "You mustn't do that. You would go crazy in less than a month. I have hunted alone, andknow something about it. You must have a companion."
Oscar replied that he would be only too glad to take one with him if he knew where the right sort of person could be found; and there the matter ended until the next evening.
While he was busy cooking his supper a man approached and handed him a note, which proved to be from the gentleman with whom he had taken dinner the day before. It introduced the bearer, Robert McCann, as one who, for a suitable consideration, would accompany him as cook, companion, and after-rider.
I do not recommend him [so the note ran], for I know but little about him. He has been into the interior on several trading expeditions, and is well acquainted with the country for which you are bound. He claims to be an old elephant hunter. He is the only man that can be found in Leichtberg just at present, and if I were in your place I would rather take him than go without anybody.
I do not recommend him [so the note ran], for I know but little about him. He has been into the interior on several trading expeditions, and is well acquainted with the country for which you are bound. He claims to be an old elephant hunter. He is the only man that can be found in Leichtberg just at present, and if I were in your place I would rather take him than go without anybody.
"Well," said Oscar after he had read the note, "if you can act as my guide after I get beyond Zurnst, and can tell where the best camping-grounds are, and find water for thecattle when they get thirsty, I think you are the man I want, provided you know how to retain your good-nature at all times and under all circumstances. I have known men who were the best kind of fellows so long as they had a tight roof over them and a warm fire in front of them, or a well-filled table at their elbow, but who proved to be anything but agreeable companions when they were caught out in a storm and had to go cold, wet, and hungry. Can you handle a rifle?"
"I can't remember the day when I couldn't," replied the man in a tone Oscar did not like.
"I want not only a good cook, but also an after-rider who is a dead shot, and who can be depended on in any emergency," continued Oscar. "I am not going into the wilderness on a pleasure excursion. I am going there to hunt, and the sooner I get through with the work that has been laid out for me to do the sooner I can go home. I want a man who is not afraid of work, and who is not all the time trying to see how little he can do to earn his food and wages."
Oscar then went on to describe the man'sduties, telling him, in the plainest language, what he should expect if he agreed to accompany him into the wilderness; and at the end of half an hour a bargain had been struck, and Robert McCann returned to the village, after promising to be on hand bright and early the next morning, all ready to "set in."
"They told me he was a young fellow, but I didn't expect to find him a boy," soliloquized McCann as he walked toward Leichtberg. "Of course he can't boss me, and I shall take pains to let him see it. And he had the impudence to ask if I could handle a gun, and to tell me that he wanted an after-rider who could be depended on! I'll warrant I can kill game where he can't find any; and as for standing up to the rack when trouble comes—— Hold on a bit!" said Mr. McCann, rubbing his hands gleefully together. "Wait until he gets his first sight of a mad buffalo! I'll make him wish he had never seen or heard of Africa! I am to receive twenty-five pounds for staying with him until he gets back to Leichtberg. He wants me to be gone nearlya year, but if I can make him come back in two or three months so much the better for me. I shall earn my twenty-five pounds very easily. Aha! that's an idea that is worth thinking of."
"I don't much like that fellow," said Oscar to himself as he looked after McCann's retreating figure. "He is inclined to be insolent, and I am afraid there is much more brag than work in him. But, after all, he is better than nobody, and if I don't like him I can give him his walking-papers as soon as we arrive at Zurnst."
But McCann proved, at the start, to be better than his employer thought he would. He was an excellent cook, was possessed of considerable intelligence, was rather fluent in speech, and Oscar found no little pleasure in listening to his stories, of which he seemed to have an inexhaustible supply.
Sometimes the young hunter thought McCann drew largely on his imagination when telling of the wonderful exploits he had performed among the elephants and lions of the "Great Thirst Land"; and, indeed, he did.
He supposed he could say what he pleased and Oscar would believe it.
The wagon had hardly left Zurnst before McCann began to carry out his plans for bringing Oscar's expedition to an end by telling some of the most fearful yarns the boy had ever heard.
He said, among other things, that the lions which were to be found in some of the plains that lay along Oscar's proposed route were so numerous and savage that they would not wait to be attacked, but would assume the offensive, even in the daytime, and drive hunters off their grounds.
He affirmed that the water was totally unfit to drink, being so full of animal life that an attempt to clear it by boiling only turned it into porridge; that the fountains were many days' journey apart, and that he had more than once seen thirsty oxen driven frantic by simply getting a sniff of the water-butt in the rear of the wagon.
"Oh, it's a dreadful place, Mr. Preston!" he would often say. "You have no idea of what is before you."
"That is just what folks told me when I went hunting in the foot-hills," Oscar would reply.
"But this is different. You had plenty of water, and there were no lions to kill your stock. I really don't know whether you can stand it or not."
"Can you?"
"Me? Oh, yes; I've been there! You will find that there is no discount on me."
"I am delighted to hear it. The next time we see Zurnst I shall be able to say that I have been there, too."
This answer always made McCann uneasy. He was not half the hunter he pretended to be, as we shall presently see, and he did not think that Oscar was much of a hunter, either.
If the latter had had a few more years on his shoulders McCann never would have agreed to accompany him into the wilderness.
He was afraid to go there; but when he found that his employer was nothing but a boy he thought he could work upon his fears and makehimafraid to go there.
But they had not made more than two weeks' journey beyond Zurnst before McCann began to see that he had been badly mistaken in the boy.
Oscar did not scare worth a cent. He held straight ahead, keeping his course without once consulting his companion, finding every fountain on the way with as much ease as though he had been acquainted with the country all his life, and finally arrived at the camping-ground toward which he had been directing his course ever since leaving Zurnst.
He and McCann, who always led the way on horseback, reached it about half an hour ahead of the wagon.
After watering their horses they rode up out of the dry water-course in which the fountain was located and looked about them.
No one but an African traveller ever gazed upon such a scene as that which was presented to Oscar's view that evening. It was one that made his heart thrill.
The plain, which stretched away before and on each side of him as far as his eyes could reach, looked for all the world like some ofthe parks he had seen in England. It was as level as a lawn, and he could hardly bring himself to believe that the little groves that were scattered about over it had not been planted there by human hands.
The plain was fairly covered with game, which had congregated there to feed on the rich grass. It was big game, too, and Oscar could scarcely repress a shout of exultation at the sight of it.
The moment the young hunter and his companion rode out of the water-course a cloud of dust arose in the distance, and through it Oscar obtained his first view of one of the most dreaded animals in Africa—a buffalo; not the timid bison of our Western plains—which is not a buffalo at all—but a beast that is so savage that it is always ready to charge any living thing that comes in its way, so active and determined that a single lion cannot whip it in a fair fight, and so powerful that it has been known to overturn a heavily loaded Cape wagon with the greatest ease.
Behind the buffaloes—there was a vast herd of them—came a drove of quaggas, whichwere followed by a number of zebras, and elands, wilde-beests, and harte-beests brought up the rear.
The cloud of dust raised by such a multitude of hoofs soon shut out everything from view, but not until Oscar had caught a momentary glimpse of something that increased his excitement.
"Did you see that ostrich?" he exclaimed, turning to his companion in great glee. "It wouldn't take so very many of them to materially reduce the expenses of this expedition, for Mr. Lawrence told me that every bird carries around with him feathers worth between forty and fifty pounds."
"So he does," answered McCann; "but I don't think you can even get a specimen. You don't own a horse that can keep within sight of a full-grown ostrich."
"Oh, I shouldn't think of trying to ride them down! Mark my words: If I can find that fellow's nest I will take him and his mate to America with me. I'll conceal myself in the nest while the owners are absent, and shoot them when they come back."
"Well, you couldn't hire me to do a thing like that," said McCann with emphasis.
"Why not? I know that a stranger cannot approach a tame ostrich with impunity, for the bird will knock him down and strike him with his feet; but a wild one would rather run than fight."
"I know that, too; but still you may find something in the nest that would rather fight than run. Do you see that creature over there?"
As McCann spoke he directed his employer's attention to a bird, considerably larger and heavier than any crane Oscar had ever seen, which was stalking along the plain about a hundred yards away, stopping now and then to examine some object on the ground.
When he drew himself up at his full height the long feathers on the back of his head stuck out so that he looked as though he carried a quill-pen behind each ear.
"I see him," said Oscar. "It's a secretary-bird."
"Well, whenever you see them look out for snakes. You might find one curled up in that ostrich nest."
"I tell you, Mr. Preston, this is the most dangerous place in the whole country," continued McCann, "and you risk your life and ours by staying here."
"I can't help it if I do," replied Oscar. "I thought of that before I came to Africa, and you ought to have thought of it before you hired out to me. It is my business to go where the game is to be found. That's what I was sent here for."
"But just look at it for a moment," said McCann earnestly. "This fountain is the only water there is in the country for miles around."
"Exactly. I knew that when I came here, and it is just the reason I am going to stay. The game always comes where the water is."
"Yes; and so do the hyenas, leopards, andlions. The hyenas will rob you of your goats, the leopards will show a partiality for your dogs, and the lions will drive off your horses, and perhaps gobble you or one of your men up for dessert."
"If they do it will be our own fault," answered Oscar, who began to believe that his after-rider was not quite as courageous as he said he was. "It is our business to look out for things. Here is the wagon. Outspan under those trees, and have supper ready for me in an hour."
"You are never going out to hunt!" exclaimed McCann. "It will be pitch dark before you know it."
"I shall not go far," was the reply. "I want to shoot one of those secretary-birds before I go to bed."
As soon as the wagon came to a standstill Oscar climbed into it, and after putting the rifle he had carried all day into its case he selected from among his other weapons a heavy double-barrelled shot-gun.
With this in his hand, and a belt full of cartridges about his waist, he mounted LittleGray, all unconscious that the animal's speed would soon be tested to its very utmost, and rode out in search of a secretary.
It was a lovely evening, and Oscar was in just the mood to enjoy it.
Turtle-doves cooed to one another from the trees over his head; long-tailed finches, commonly called the widahbird, flitted through the branches; a garrulous honey-bird tried hard to attract his attention as he rode past, and now and then flocks of Namaqua partridges sailed by, uttering their melodious notes, and settled down about the fountain.
Oscar looked at all these birds, but did not try a shot at any of them. He had no time to waste, for darkness would soon be upon him.
As soon as he was fairly out of the grove he discovered one of the birds of which he was in search, stalking along about two hundred yards in advance of him.
Oscar rode toward it, keeping close watch of every move the bird made, so that he might know how to set it up after he had shot it.
The secretary soon discovered his approach, and, straightening up, looked curiously at thehunter for a few seconds, after which, like the industrious bird he was, he went about his business again.
He did not seem to be very much afraid, but still he showed very plainly that he did not care for company, for when Oscar had approached within fifty yards of him he moved away in so awkward and ostentatious a manner that the young hunter laughed outright.
He did not run or hop, but walked off with long, measured strides, and in much the same manner that a boy progresses when he is mounted on stilts.
The secretary seemed to be trying to show off, and the longer Oscar looked at him the louder he laughed.
While his merriment was at its height Little Gray—who was moving rapidly along, with his bridle hanging on his neck—uttered a loud snort, and jumped aside so suddenly that Oscar came within a hair's breadth of being thrown to the ground.
If hehadbeen his hunting expedition would probably have been ended then and there; for when he reigned up hisfrightened steed, and looked around to see what had caused his alarm, he saw curled up in the sand, close by the track his horse had made, a hideous puff-adder, or, to speak according to the books, a hornedcerastes, than which there is not a more deadly serpent in Africa. There is no known antidote for its bite.
It is supposed by some writers on natural history to be the same reptile that Cleopatra used when she destroyed herself. It was so large in proportion to its length that it could not coil itself up as other serpents do, but lay in the form of a figure of eight.
It was excited and angry, and raised its horrid head and thrust out its tongue in the most vicious manner. Oscar looked all around for a stick or stone, but could not find any; and as he did not want to shoot for fear of alarming the secretary-bird, he rode on, leaving the reptile to curl up and go to sleep again.
"I'll attend to you when I come back," said he as he put his horse into a gallop, and resumed his pursuit of the bird, whose long strides had carried him over a good deal ofground during this short delay. "I am down on all such things as you are."
In a few minutes more Oscar was riding within a hundred yards of the secretary, which kept stalking steadily ahead, as if he had made up his mind to go somewhere. Something must have told him that Oscar meant business this time, for he would not allow the boy to come as close as he did before.
He took wing, rising so far out of range that it would have been useless to fire at him, and, sailing majestically around the hunter, flew toward the fountain, Oscar had played with him a little too long, and his prize had slipped through his fingers.
He turned in his saddle to watch the bird's graceful flight, and took note of the fact that before he had gone far he began settling toward the ground.
He came down gradually at first, then with a rush, and the moment he landed on his feet, began that awkward stalk again; but this time he moved in a circle, and kept his wings outstretched and his head turned on one side,as if he were watching some object on the ground.
Oscar was at a loss how to account for this, until he discovered that the bird had alighted on the very ground which he had passed but a few minutes before. Then the matter became quite clear to him.
"I declare, he is after that adder," said Oscar, turning his horse around so that he could have a better view of what was going on. "Now, let's see the fight. Go in, Mr. Secretary; I'll bet on you every time!"
Just then the adder raised his horned head from the ground, only to be knocked flat immediately by a lightning-like stroke from one of the bird's wings. Then the secretary darted forward, and made an effort to seize the reptile in his strong, hooked beak; but quick as the bird was the snake was quicker, and frustrated the attempt by throwing back its head in readiness to strike.
Nothing daunted, the brave bird backed off, and, after a little manœuvring, knocked the reptile flat again, and this time succeeded in laying hold of it before it could recover itself.
Oscar expected to see the bird devour his prey on the spot; but instead of that he arose straight in the air until he had reached an altitude of two hundred feet or more, and then he allowed the snake to drop to the ground.
Swooping down after it with the velocity of an eagle, the bird caught up the now disabled reptile and repeated the operation again and again; and having at last satisfied himself that his enemy was dead, he walked off and left it lying on the plain.
"I wouldn't shoot him if I could," said Oscar, who had watched the struggle with the keenest interest. "These birds live almost entirely on poisonous reptiles, but this one's actions prove that he wasn't hungry. He killed that adder just because he hated him and didn't want to have him around. It's too bad to shoot a bird like that, even for scientific purposes. If that fight could be represented in the museum it would be well worth looking at; but I wouldn't skin and stuff that adder for all the money Mr. Adrian is worth. PerhapsI can mount the bird as he appeared when——"
Oscar's soliloquy was interrupted by a most startling incident. While he was following the secretary-bird he had approached within twenty yards of one of the numerous little groves that was scattered over the plain.
When he turned his horse about to watch the fight we have just described his back was toward this grove, from which there now issued, without warning of any kind, an enemy which gave him a fright that he will remember to his dying day.
The first intimation he had of the terrible danger that threatened him was a quick movement on the part of Little Gray, who sprang forward so suddenly that Oscar very narrowly escaped being unhorsed.
As it was his feet were jerked out of the stirrups, and he was thrown over on one side, so that he hung by one leg and by one arm, which he had managed to throw around the horn of his saddle.
If he had lost his hold, or if the saddlehad turned with his weight, it would have been all up with Oscar Preston, for almost at the tail of his horse, which was now running at the top of his speed, came one of those dreaded animals he had seen scurrying off through the dust an hour or so before—a buffalo.
This old rogue, having concealed himself in the grove, had doubtless been watching the young hunter ever since he left the wagon, and waiting for him to come within fair charging distance.
He certainly was a vicious-looking brute as he came full tilt after the horse, with his tail in the air and his shaggy head covered with broad, flat horns, lowered close to the ground in readiness to toss both Little Gray and his rider toward the clouds, and to Oscar's frightened eyes he looked as big as an elephant.
"I am afraid I shall never see home again," said Oscar, who wondered how he could think so clearly when every nerve in his body was vibrating with terror. "My strength is all leaving me. I am growing weaker every moment."
It was a most alarming thought, but right on the heels of it came a gleam of hope. His horse was gaining at every jump—very slowly, it is true, for the buffalo, heavy and clumsy-looking as he was, ran at a surprising rate of speed, but still he wasgaining.
Oscar kept his pale, scared face turned over his shoulder and his eyes fixed upon the shaggy forehead of the charging buffalo, from which he could not have removed them if he had tried. The fear that he would lose his hold and be gored to death did not cause him to lose his presence of mind; and when he saw that the gallant little nag, to which he clung so desperately, and on which all his hopes of life depended, was steadily widening the gap between him and his fierce pursuer, his strength and courage came back to him, and in an instant he was firmly seated in the saddle, although, as he afterward declared, he could not tell how he got there.
Little Gray astonished and delighted his young master that evening and covered himself with glory. He proved to be very swift,and Oscar was not long in making up his mind that he had nothing to fear.
When he was fully satisfied on this point his alarm gave way to an intense desire to make a specimen of the savage beast that had so nearly been the death of him.
He still carried his double-barrel in his hands—he was somewhat surprised to find it there, and wondered how he had managed to hold fast to it when he so narrowly escaped being thrown from his saddle, and terror had rendered his muscles so weak that he could scarcely sustain his own weight—but the heavy shot with which it was loaded would have made little impression upon the buffalo. They would have added to his fury, but they would not have checked his headlong rush. The only thing Oscar could do was to alarm the camp and obtain McCann's assistance.
The latter was a dead shot with the rifle—at least he had often said he was—and it would be no trouble at all for him to bring the buffalo down at the distance of a hundred yards, even though he were moving at the top of his speed. With these thoughts in hismind Oscar began shouting with all the power of his lungs:
"McCann! McCann! Bring a rifle out here and shoot this buffalo! I wish I could shoot him myself to pay him for the scare he gave me," he added mentally; "but if I ride to the wagon to get a rifle he will be sure to follow me there, and mercy knows what damage he wouldn't do if he got in among the oxen. All I can do is to lead him close enough to the grove to give McCann a fair chance at him. McCann, are you deaf? Bring a rifle out here and shoot this buffalo!"
A few moments later Oscar had the satisfaction of knowing that his wild calls for help had been heard.
The dogs set up a yelp, and came through the grove in a body; but the only man he could see was Big Thompson, who followed close after the pack, carrying a bunch of assegais in his hand.
Excited as he was, Oscar told himself that he had never seen a human being run as that Kaffir did. If he had lived in a civilizedcountry he could have made his fortune on the race-track.
The dogs dashed at the buffalo at once, and quickly diverted his attention from Oscar, who drew up his horse and stopped to see the fight.
The huge beast charged right and left at his nimble assailants, which easily kept out of his way, and during one of these charges he caught Oscar's wind and made another dead set at him.
Little Gray made haste to give him all the room he wanted, and in so doing led the buffalo within a few yards of the edge of the grove in which the Kaffir had taken up his position.
As the game passed him the native threw one of his spears. It flew through the air with surprising force and precision, and, striking the buffalo fairly in the side, buried its head out of sight between his ribs.
"Great Scott!" ejaculated the astonished Oscar, who sat half turned about in the saddle, and left his horse to pick out his own way. "Who would suppose that that man'sarm had so much power in it? Where would Paddy O'Brian be now if Thompson had thrown one of those spears at him?"
That the buffalo was severely wounded was evident from the increased fury with which he charged the dogs, which had followed close at his heels.
Seeing that his attention was fully occupied by them, Oscar stopped at a safe distance, and faced about to watch the battle, and to look for McCann, who had not yet made his appearance.
As soon as a favorable opportunity was presented another assegai was launched into the air by the Kaffir's sinewy arm, and, like the first, it found a lodgment in the body of the buffalo, which just then caught Oscar's favorite hunting dog, a huge mastiff, on his horns, and threw him twenty feet high by simply raising his head. When the poor brute came down all the fight was gone out of him—and all the life, too.
"Such work as that won't do!" shouted Oscar, who was trembling all over with excitement. "McCann, why don't you bring outthat rifle? Come up closer, Thompson, so that you can have a fair chance at him! Kill him, and I will give you a musket!"
Now a musket is something every native covets. Some of them have been known to travel five hundred miles on foot through the wilderness, every day running the risk of being killed by wild beasts or captured by members of tribes hostile to them, in order to reach the diamond fields, in which they will give a year's labor for a musket worth ten or twelve dollars.
Big Thompson would probably have done the same thing, and thought nothing of it, but he would not take his chances with an enraged buffalo.
He could not be induced to advance more than fifty yards from the shelter of the grove. He wanted to be within reach of the trees, so that he could take refuge in one of them in case the buffalo made a charge upon him.
He hurled two more of his spears with his unerring aim, but they did not seem to have much effect upon the buffalo.
He bellowed with rage and pain, and bledprofusely, but continued to fight the dogs with as much spirit as ever.
"I believe I will go after a rifle myself," thought Oscar. "If this battle isn't ended pretty soon I shall lose that buffalo, for it will be as dark as a pocket in ten minutes more. I wonder what is the matter with McCann? He must know what is going on out here."
Talking in this way to himself, Oscar started to ride around the combatants toward the wagon; but no sooner had he put his horse in motion than the buffalo caught sight of him and charged him as viciously as before.
Little Gray set off at his best pace without waiting for the word, and his rider, instead of going toward the wagon, as he had intended to do, directed his course toward the fountain.
Just before he reached it he made a quick turn to the right and galloped down the plain, but the buffalo, which had evidently had enough of the fight, did not follow him; he kept straight ahead.
Harassed at every step by the active dogs, he plunged down the steep bank into the drybed of the stream, throwing a cloud of sand and gravel into the air, dashed up the opposite incline, and disappeared in the fast gathering darkness. In two minutes more all sounds of the chase had died away in the distance.
"Good-by, buffalo," murmured Oscar, who had once more reined in his horse. "That's what I call provoking. I would willingly have given my best rifle if I could have secured him. There's one thing about it," he added, affectionately patting the neck of his steed, which, with head erect and nostrils dilating, was gazing in the direction in which the game had disappeared, "I shall not be afraid to hunt buffaloes so long as I am on Little Gray's back. If I had only had a rifle instead of a shotgun in my hands I should have had a fine specimen now, for I could have killed him easily enough. Now I'll go and see what McCann has to say for himself."
In no very amiable frame of mind Oscar rode back to the wagon. When he came within sight of it what was his surprise to seehis bold after-rider—the dead shot who had killed lions and elephants without number—perched upon the top of the tent, while his driver and fore-loper were snugly ensconced among the branches of a neighboring tree!
He had looked for just such conduct in his Hottentots, for Mr. Donahue and all the rest of his friends had told him that they were the greatest of cowards, but he had expected better things of McCann.
"You are a good one, I must say!" exclaimed Oscar in disgust. "Why didn't you come out there and help me? You had time enough to shoot a dozen buffaloes if you had had any 'get up' about you!"
"I—I didn't know you wanted any help," stammered McCann. "Didn't you tell us to look out for ourselves? I supposed you would come straight to the wagon, and that the buffalo would follow you. That's the reason I got up here."
"Do the words 'Bring a rifle out here and shoot this buffalo' sound like 'Look out for yourselves'?" demanded Oscar angrily. "If you are an old hunter, as you claim to be, youought to have known that I would not lead a frantic beast like that into camp, to knock the wagon about and gore the oxen and horses! And if you misunderstood me, how does it come that the Kaffir didn't misunderstand me, too? He came out there and helped me all he could with his spears. He didn't kill the buffalo, I am sorry to say, but he showed his good will, and I shall remember him for it. Come down and dish up my supper, and see that Little Gray has an extra measure of mealies. If I wasn't so far away from the settlements I would turn him adrift to-morrow," added Oscar to himself as he dismounted and turned his horse over to the Kaffir, who just then came into camp. "He has not yet earned the fifteen pounds advance I gave him, but I would rather lose that amount of money than have such a coward about me."
"He's getting almost too bossy for a boy," soliloquized McCann as he descended from his perch. "Who would think to look at him that there was so much in him? That was the first buffalo he ever saw, and yet he was as cool as any old hunter. If that is theway he is going to behave I don't want to act as his after-rider, and I won't either, for the first thing I know he will get me into trouble. I think I know a way to make him go back, and if I don't succeed in it I shall desert him. I am not going to risk my life for twenty-five pounds. And if I go I shan't go empty-handed. Mark that, Mr. Preston."
"Say, Thompson!" shouted Oscar from the wagon, "take that as a slight reward for your courage. When you want more let me know. You are the only one among them that has pluck enough to face a mouse."
As Oscar said this he handed out a pound plug of navy tobacco, which the Kaffir received with joyful smiles. The Hottentots looked at it with envious eyes, and even McCann's mouth watered. He had been on half rations almost ever since he left Zurnst.
Oscar was so disheartened over the loss of the buffalo, and so angry at the boastful McCann for the arrant cowardice he had exhibited, that he did not at all enjoy his supper.
He forced down a few mouthfuls, drank a cup or two of tea, and then went out among the cattle and horses (he now owned four of the latter, having purchased two steady old hunters while he was in Leichtberg) to satisfy himself, by personal examination, that they were securely fastened. Then he looked at the supply of firewood, and having lighted his lantern, climbed into the wagon and devoted himself to his diary.
If McCann could have known what he wrote regarding the part he had played in the exciting scene that had just been enacted he wouldhave felt like going off somewhere and hiding himself.
"I'll fix you to-morrow, my fine fellow!" said Oscar to himself, smiling over the thought that had just then suggested itself to him. "I'll make you prove some of your boasts, or acknowledge yourself to be a coward."
One would think that McCann had already proved himself a coward; but if additional evidence were needed to fully establish that fact, and to prove beyond a doubt that there was no dependence to be placed in him in times of danger, an incident happened that very night which caused the after-rider to show himself up in his true colors.
Just as Oscar closed his diary and arose to put it away in the hanging pocket in which he usually kept it he was startled by a sound that made the cold chill creep all over him. He knew what it was as well as though he had heard it every day of his life. It was the roar of a lion.
It was repeated five or six times, and ended in long-drawn sighs, which grew lower anddeeper until they sounded like the mutterings of distant thunder.
This was followed by a sound that almost paralyzed the young hunter—a sound made by something scrambling into the forward end of the wagon.
He turned quickly, fully expecting to see the opening filled by the shaggy head of the terrible king of beasts; but he saw, instead, the pale, almost livid, face of the redoubtable McCann, who was making all haste to seek a place of refuge.
"What do you want in here?" demanded Oscar as soon as he had somewhat recovered himself.
"Didn't you hear that lion?" asked McCann in a trembling voice.
"Having a pair of good ears, I did," answered Oscar. "What of it?"
"Why, he is close to us—within a stone's throw of us!" gasped McCann, looking all around for some little hole to crawl into.
"How do you know that? I haven't lived in Africa as long as you have, but I know that you can't tell where a lion is when youhear his roar. It sounds just as loud and distinct when he is half a mile away as it does when he is only a hundred yards from you."
"I wish this one was a hundred miles away," panted McCann, sinking down behind the fore-chest and trembling violently in every limb. "I told you what would happen if you stayed here; and if you lose all your stock don't blame me for it. Don't you know that the water-hole is only two hundred yards away? He is coming there to drink."
"Well, we can't help it, can we? I say, Mack," exclaimed Oscar, a bright idea striking him, "go out there and shoot him when he comes to drink. You have often done such things, you know; and I will give you an extra twenty-five pounds if you will secure a lion's skin for me to take home with me. I can't do it, for if I should find myself within range of one of those fellows I should be so badly frightened that I couldn't cover him with the sights. You will find one of the Express rifles and plenty of cartridges in that case."
McCann was too badly frightened to reply.Indeed, so abject was his terror that, if Oscar had not been possessed of an extraordinary amount of pluck, some of his after-rider's cowardice would have communicated itself to him.
Even a timid person can keep up some show of courage in times of danger when there are brave men around him, but it takes a man of nerve to present a bold front when in the company of poltroons.
Oscar was not frightened; he was only excited—very highly excited, too—for his hands trembled, and his heart beat audibly, as he took his heaviest rifle from its case and pushed a couple of cartridges in the barrels.
"You are never going to shoot at him?" cried McCann.
"You just let me get a fair sight at him, and see if I don't shoot," was Oscar's reply.
"Then we're all dead men," declared the terrified after-rider. "He'll jump right into the wagon."
"Well, if you didn't want to run such risks why did you come out here?" demanded his employer sternly. "I am not going to loseany of the stock if I can help it. You ought to know that we have nothing to fear from the one whose voice we have just heard, for when a lion means business he doesn't go about warning all the other animals of his approach; he keeps quiet. But there may be others about, you know."
Holding his rifle in his hands, in readiness for a shot, Oscar took his seat on the fore-chest, while McCann groaned and shivered behind it.
The former had scarcely taken up his position when the roar was repeated, apparently nearer than before (the lion is so perfect a ventriloquist that he could not be certain on this point), and it was the signal for a concert the like of which but few hunters have ever listened to.
An answering roar came from the other side of the water-course—a deep-toned roar of defiance. There was an instant's pause, and then a whole chorus of the resounding notes rang out on the night air.
It continued for perhaps half a minute, and when it died away it was answered in just thesame manner, proving that the lion whose voice Oscar had first heard was attended by a troop quite as numerous as the one on the other side of the water-course.
No words can describe the effect of these sounds. Many a brave and experienced hunter has been completely demoralized by them.
Oscar's blood went rushing back upon his heart, leaving his face as pale as death itself, and his hair seemed to stand on end.
The natives ceased their conversation and lay down close beside their fire, drawing their skin cloaks over their heads; the horses snorted and trembled with fear; the oxen pulled at the trek-tow; the dogs whined and sought refuge under the wagon, and McCann groaned behind the fore-chest.
"There's nothing to make such a fuss about," said Oscar, who knew that he might as well turn about and go back to the coast as to show the white feather in the presence of his men. "Two strange troops of lions are approaching the water-hole from different directions, and they are daring one another tocome on—that's all. You had better go out and mend your fires."
"Eh? I wouldn't go out there for all the money there is in Africa," replied McCann in a scarcely audible voice.
Seeing very plainly that there was nothing to be expected of the after-rider, for that night at least, Oscar laid down his rifle, and was about to step upon the dissel-boom, intending to go out and replenish the fires himself, when something happened that proved almost too much for his courage.
The roars of defiance had all this while grown louder and fiercer, and the way in which the kingly beasts challenged one another when they arrived on opposite sides of the fountain was simply terrific.
They kept this up for a minute or two, and finally some of the boldest and angriest of them came together.
A terrible battle ensued, and Oscar could not tell whether there were two or a dozen engaged in it. He knew that they did not all take part, for he could hear some of them roaring with all the power of their lungs, as if theyhoped in that way to encourage their respective champions to greater exertions.
The hubbub they raised was altogether too much for the nerve of the Hottentots, who suddenly jumped up from behind the fence of thorn bushes they had built around their fire, and ran toward the wagon, chattering like monkeys.
"Keep out of here," said Oscar sternly. "Go back and throw on more wood."
The Hottentots disappeared as if by magic, and Oscar, holding fast with both hands to his heavy rifle, which had more than once been on the point of slipping out of his grasp, stood on the fore-chest and listened to the noise of the combat.
He strained his eyes, trying to peer through the darkness to obtain a glimpse of the contestants, but all in vain. The banks of the water-course in which the fight was carried on were high, and there were several trees between him and the fountain.
But even if the battle had taken place on the open plain he could not have witnessed it, for the color of the lion's hair renders himinvisible in the dark. Mr. Lawrence had told him that, on more than one occasion, while he was watching a fountain at night, he had heard a lion loudly lapping the water within twenty feet of him, and yet he could not see him.
Oscar was recalled to himself by the actions of the Kaffir, who, having mended his own fire, had taken up a blazing brand in each hand, and started out to replenish the others. He was so cool, and went about his work so deliberately, that Oscar regained his courage while he looked at him.
Taking his rifle with him, so as to be ready for any emergency, Oscar hastened to the Kaffir's assistance; and in a few minutes more all the fires were burning brightly.
When he returned to the wagon the fight was over, the lions had ceased their roaring, and everything was quiet.
"I'll just tell you what's a fact," soliloquized Oscar as he seated himself on the fore-chest and laid his rifle across his knees. "Hearing a lion roar in a menagerie, when he is safe behind iron bars, and hearing a dozen or more of them give tongue here in the wilds of Africa,where there is literally nothing to protect you from their fury if they take a notion to pitch into you, are two widely different things. I never want to listen to another concert like that as long as I live. I have no ear for such music."
He took off his cap and wiped his forehead with his handkerchief. The exciting ordeal through which he had passed had brought the perspiration out all over him.
There was little sleeping done in the camp that night. McCann kept his place behind the fore-chest, the Hottentots never showed themselves or made their whereabouts known, and the young hunter and his Kaffir interpreter stood guard, kept the fires blazing, and listened to the noise made by the animals that were constantly going to and from the fountain. There seemed to be no end to them.
If there were any faith to be placed in one's sense of hearing, Oscar had seen but a very small portion of the game that inhabited that section of the country. Sometimes the noise made by their hoofs continued for ten minutes at a time without the least interruption.
After the lions had finished their battle and quenched their thirst there was quiet for an hour, and then the other animals began coming in.
First came the small antelopes, then the larger ones, such as the wilde-beests, elands, and harte-beests; then the zebras, quaggas, and buffaloes; and if there had been an elephant or a rhinoceros in the neighborhood he would have come last.
The hour selected by the lion depends entirely upon circumstances. If the moon rises late he comes to the fountain soon after dark; and if it rises early he postpones his visit until near morning, unless he has had a hearty supper, and then he drinks whenever he happens to feel thirsty.
While Oscar was listening, and wishing it was daylight, so that he could see the immense herds that were constantly passing by within less than two hundred yards of his wagon, he was treated to another contest.
It did not frighten him as the first one did, for he knew that the animals which engaged in it were not much to be feared; still it made him nervous and timid, it was so wild and unearthly. It sounded, for all the world, as though a dozen or so demented persons were joining in a hearty laugh over something.
It was enough to try anyone's nerves, and it was no wonder that the terror-stricken after-rider drew himself into a smaller compass behind the fore-chest, and cried out that another such night would be the death of him.
"There's nothing to whine over," said Oscar. "A pack of laughing hyenas have found poor Major's body—that's all."
Major was the name of the mastiff that had been killed by the buffalo.
"Yes, and after they get through with him they may take it into their heads to see what there is under the wagon," replied McCann.
"Let them come," said Oscar. "These fires throw out a good deal of light, and I'll knock over the first one I can draw a bead on. But look here, Mack. You have heard all these sounds before, and how does it come that they have such an effect on you to-night? They scare you more than they do me."
"The reason is just this," answered McCann: "The trading expeditions I have accompanied through here have never consisted of less than four or five wagons, andsometimes we have had as many as twenty men with us. The lion will not bother such a crowd as that if he is left alone. If anything happens to-night there are only two of us to do the fighting."
"And who are they?" asked the young hunter.
"Why, you and me, of course. Who else is there? Big Thompson couldn't do anything with his little spears, even if he had the courage to face a lion; the Hottentots would take to the nearest trees, and——"
McCann paused, and Oscar finished the sentence for him by saying:
"You would climb to the top of the wagon, leaving me to get out of the scrape the best way I could."
Oscar put his feet upon the fore-chest, leaned back against the arches that supported the tent, and, although he did not expect to close his eyes in slumber, he was fast asleep in a very few minutes.
He awoke at daylight, and found his servants already astir. The Hottentots had turned up safe and sound, and were wateringthe stock at the fountain; the Kaffir was busy at one of the fires, cooking their breakfast and his own; and McCann, having dished up a frugal meal for his employer, was on the point of calling him, when Oscar stepped down from the dissel-boom, with a towel and a piece of soap in his hand.
The boy looked at his after-rider in great surprise. The exciting events of the night must have had a terrible effect upon his nerves, for he seemed to have grown ten years older since the sun went down. He was pale and haggard, his eyelids drooped, and he moved as though he had scarcely strength enough left to stand upon his feet.
"What's the matter, Mack?" asked Oscar cheerfully. "Did the concerts to which we listened last night scare all the life out of you?"
"Oh, no, sir!" replied the man, who was bolder now that it was daylight and the lions were gone. "I am going to have rheumatic fever, I am afraid."
"That's bad," said Oscar; but still there was not much sympathy in his tones. Heshrewdly suspected that the only thing that troubled his after-rider was an utter lack of courage, and that he was feigning sickness for some purpose of his own. "Hadn't you better take something for it? You know where the medicine-chest is. I suppose you can't go with me to follow up the spoor of that buffalo Big Thompson wounded yesterday?"
"Indeed, I can't," replied McCann in a weak voice. "I couldn't sit in the saddle for half an hour to save my life. It will be no use for you to follow up the spoor, for you will find nothing but bones when you get to the end of it. The lions, hyenas, and jackals have made a meal of him before this time."
"I suppose they have; but we may find some beast which has not yet satisfied his appetite hanging around the carcass, you know," said Oscar as he kneeled on the ground and plunged his head into the water-bucket that served him as a wash-basin.
That was just what McCann was afraid of, and it was one reason why he did not want to go with his employer when the latter left thecamp to follow up the spoor; but, of course, he did not say so.
"As soon as the cattle come up put the saddles on Little Gray and Leichtberg, and tell Thompson that I want him to go with me to act as trailer and after-rider," said Oscar, drawing his head out of the bucket long enough to take breath. "Tell him, also, to put ropes and collars on Ralph and Rover. We will take them with us and leave the rest of the pack in camp."
Leichtberg was the name of one of Oscar's new horses, and Ralph and Rover were the two deer-hounds which had been presented to him by Mr. Lawrence.
Oscar had noticed that these high-toned animals would not hunt well when in company with the other members of the pack, and he wanted to see what they could do by themselves.
"I want to get away from here as soon as I can, and consequently I must improve every hour. By this time next week we shall be fifty miles deeper in the wilderness," said Oscar as his head went down into the bucket again.
McCann, who was quite well enough to obey these orders, walked off toward the Kaffir's fire, muttering to himself:
"Here's one who won't be fifty miles deeper in the wilderness by a week from to-day. I don't think you will go any further, either; but if you do you will find me missing on the morning you get ready to start. Mind that!"
Big Thompson, whose courage was equal to McCann's cowardice, made all haste to carry out his employer's instructions, working to such good purpose that by the time Oscar had finished his breakfast the horses he had named were saddled and waiting, the two deer-hounds had been put in the leash, and the rest of the pack were tied under the wagon.
Having provided the Kaffir with one of his best rifles and a belt full of ammunition, Oscar armed and equipped himself and then mounted Little Gray.
"Now, Mack," said he, "as soon as you have eaten your breakfast set to work with the Hottentots and gather a good supply of firewood. Heap it up as high as the wagon if you want to, for what we don't burnto-night we can burn some other night, you know."
McCann promised obedience, and Oscar and the Kaffir rode away.
The man watched them as they passed the fountain and ascended the opposite bank of the water-course, and when they disappeared from his view he arose from the camp-chair in which he had been sitting, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands.
He did not look or act much like a sick man now. His step was light and quick, his eyes were wide open, and there was a smile of triumph on his face.
"I've had about enough of this," said he as he placed his foot on the dissel-boom. "I ought never to have come out here with that boy, for I ought to have known that he hadn't sense enough to keep him out of trouble. I never would have come with him, either, if I had had any idea that he had so much determination. I was sure I could frighten him and make him turn back; but since I can't do that I can do the next best thing."