Chapter Fifty Two.A Hopeless Chase.While the hunters were at breakfast, they were startled by the dull, heavy sound of footfalls, and the yelping of wild dogs. A quarter of a mile to the eastward they saw approaching them a large drove of springboks, accompanied by a band of giraffes. More than a hundred of the antelopes, and between twenty and thirty camelopards were flying before a fewwilde honden.The wild hounds of South Africa hunt in packs, and proceed upon a well-organised plan. The whole pack is never engaged in running upon the view. Some remain in reserve, and, guided by the voices of those that are running, frequently save space by cutting off angles. This they can do whenever the chase is not made in a straight line.In this manner they relieve each other, and the pursuit is continued until the game becomes exhausted and is easily overtaken.The perseverance, energy, and cunning displayed by these animals is something wonderful.They do not commence a hunt until driven to it by hunger, and then it is often carried on for many hours, their tenacity of purpose being shown by their continuing the chase till their victim falls down before them. They were in full run after the springboks, and one of those animals was sure to reward their skill and labour by affording them a dinner.The giraffes were foolish enough to think, or act, as though thewilde hondenwere hunting them; and in place of remaining still and permitting the dogs to pass, or turning to one side, the foolish creatures ran on with the springboks. At the time they came up with the hunters, they were already exhibiting signs of distress. To Groot Willem it was a gratifying sight. A herd of giraffes was at hand. Some of them were evidently young ones. Three of them he observed were apparently but a few weeks old. The very things for which he had travelled so far were now before his eyes, apparently coming to deliver themselves up.It was not until the springboks swerved to the right to avoid the horsemen, that these little animals became separated from the giraffes. The latter continued on along the edge of the stream, while the former, pursued by the wild dogs, made off towards some hills to the north.The speed of the camelopard is not quite equal to that of a horse, and the hunters knew that the desired objects could be overtaken; but what then? The giraffes might be shot down, but how were they to be taken alive?There was no time for reflection. The necessity of commencing the chase, and the excitement of following it up, occupied all the time of the hunters.After a sharp run of about two miles, the camelopards began to show further signs of distress. Already exhausted by their flight before the hounds, and now pursued by fresh horses, their utmost efforts did not save them from being overtaken; after a two-mile chase our hunters were riding upon their heels.A portion of the herd, becoming separated from the rest turned away from the bank of the stream. There were but three who went thus,—a male and female followed by a young one,—a beautiful creature. Groot Willem gazed longingly upon it as he galloped by its side, and became nearly mad with the desire to secure it. The pace of the three had now been changed from a gallop to a trot, in which their feet were lifted but a few inches from the ground, and drawn forward in an awkward shambling manner, that proved them exhausted with their long run. Still, they ran on at a pace that kept Willem’s horse at a sharp canter.In a short time he had got out of sight both of the main herd and his comrades. Nothing could be seen of either. He might have reflected that there was some risk of losing himself; but he did not. All his thoughts were given to the capture of the young giraffe.Slower and more slow became the pace both of pursuer and pursued, the horse streaming with sweat, and nearly ready to drop in his tracks.“Why should I follow them farther?” thought Willem. “Why should I kill my horse for the sake of gazing a little longer on a creature I cannot take?”Though conscious of the folly he was committing, Willem could not bring himself to abandon the chase.By his side trotted the young giraffe, beautiful in colour, graceful in form, and to his mind priceless in value. But how was it to become his? The coveted prize, although apparently but a few weeks old, and nearly exhausted by its long race, was still able to defy any efforts he might make to check its laboured flight.He was now more than a mile from the river, and his horse was tottering under him, nearly exhausted by its long exertions. What should he do?Stop, give his horse a rest, and then return to his companions. This was the command of common sense; but he was not guided by that. For the time, he was insane with excitement, anxiety, and despair. He was mad, and acted like a madman. The hopes and aspirations he had been for months indulging in were concentrated into the hour; and in that hour he could not yield them up. He was too much exasperated to reason calmly or clearly. A little extra exertion on the part of his horse might place him in advance of the three giraffes; and he might drive them back to the river.“Yes,” exclaimed he, nearly frantic with the fear of losing what seemed so nearly gained.“If I cannot catch this young giraffe, I can drive it. I’ll drive it to Graaf Reinet. It shall not escape me!”Plunging his spurs into the foam-covered flanks of his horse, he sprang forward in advance of the three giraffes; and as he expected, they came to a halt. Pulling up, he wheeled round facing them, while the two old giraffes turned at the same time and made off in the back direction.As they did so, one of them came in contact with the tottering calf, that for a second or so, seemed to become entangled between its legs; and at their separation, the young one staggered a pace or two and fell heavily upon the earth.
While the hunters were at breakfast, they were startled by the dull, heavy sound of footfalls, and the yelping of wild dogs. A quarter of a mile to the eastward they saw approaching them a large drove of springboks, accompanied by a band of giraffes. More than a hundred of the antelopes, and between twenty and thirty camelopards were flying before a fewwilde honden.
The wild hounds of South Africa hunt in packs, and proceed upon a well-organised plan. The whole pack is never engaged in running upon the view. Some remain in reserve, and, guided by the voices of those that are running, frequently save space by cutting off angles. This they can do whenever the chase is not made in a straight line.
In this manner they relieve each other, and the pursuit is continued until the game becomes exhausted and is easily overtaken.
The perseverance, energy, and cunning displayed by these animals is something wonderful.
They do not commence a hunt until driven to it by hunger, and then it is often carried on for many hours, their tenacity of purpose being shown by their continuing the chase till their victim falls down before them. They were in full run after the springboks, and one of those animals was sure to reward their skill and labour by affording them a dinner.
The giraffes were foolish enough to think, or act, as though thewilde hondenwere hunting them; and in place of remaining still and permitting the dogs to pass, or turning to one side, the foolish creatures ran on with the springboks. At the time they came up with the hunters, they were already exhibiting signs of distress. To Groot Willem it was a gratifying sight. A herd of giraffes was at hand. Some of them were evidently young ones. Three of them he observed were apparently but a few weeks old. The very things for which he had travelled so far were now before his eyes, apparently coming to deliver themselves up.
It was not until the springboks swerved to the right to avoid the horsemen, that these little animals became separated from the giraffes. The latter continued on along the edge of the stream, while the former, pursued by the wild dogs, made off towards some hills to the north.
The speed of the camelopard is not quite equal to that of a horse, and the hunters knew that the desired objects could be overtaken; but what then? The giraffes might be shot down, but how were they to be taken alive?
There was no time for reflection. The necessity of commencing the chase, and the excitement of following it up, occupied all the time of the hunters.
After a sharp run of about two miles, the camelopards began to show further signs of distress. Already exhausted by their flight before the hounds, and now pursued by fresh horses, their utmost efforts did not save them from being overtaken; after a two-mile chase our hunters were riding upon their heels.
A portion of the herd, becoming separated from the rest turned away from the bank of the stream. There were but three who went thus,—a male and female followed by a young one,—a beautiful creature. Groot Willem gazed longingly upon it as he galloped by its side, and became nearly mad with the desire to secure it. The pace of the three had now been changed from a gallop to a trot, in which their feet were lifted but a few inches from the ground, and drawn forward in an awkward shambling manner, that proved them exhausted with their long run. Still, they ran on at a pace that kept Willem’s horse at a sharp canter.
In a short time he had got out of sight both of the main herd and his comrades. Nothing could be seen of either. He might have reflected that there was some risk of losing himself; but he did not. All his thoughts were given to the capture of the young giraffe.
Slower and more slow became the pace both of pursuer and pursued, the horse streaming with sweat, and nearly ready to drop in his tracks.
“Why should I follow them farther?” thought Willem. “Why should I kill my horse for the sake of gazing a little longer on a creature I cannot take?”
Though conscious of the folly he was committing, Willem could not bring himself to abandon the chase.
By his side trotted the young giraffe, beautiful in colour, graceful in form, and to his mind priceless in value. But how was it to become his? The coveted prize, although apparently but a few weeks old, and nearly exhausted by its long race, was still able to defy any efforts he might make to check its laboured flight.
He was now more than a mile from the river, and his horse was tottering under him, nearly exhausted by its long exertions. What should he do?
Stop, give his horse a rest, and then return to his companions. This was the command of common sense; but he was not guided by that. For the time, he was insane with excitement, anxiety, and despair. He was mad, and acted like a madman. The hopes and aspirations he had been for months indulging in were concentrated into the hour; and in that hour he could not yield them up. He was too much exasperated to reason calmly or clearly. A little extra exertion on the part of his horse might place him in advance of the three giraffes; and he might drive them back to the river.
“Yes,” exclaimed he, nearly frantic with the fear of losing what seemed so nearly gained.
“If I cannot catch this young giraffe, I can drive it. I’ll drive it to Graaf Reinet. It shall not escape me!”
Plunging his spurs into the foam-covered flanks of his horse, he sprang forward in advance of the three giraffes; and as he expected, they came to a halt. Pulling up, he wheeled round facing them, while the two old giraffes turned at the same time and made off in the back direction.
As they did so, one of them came in contact with the tottering calf, that for a second or so, seemed to become entangled between its legs; and at their separation, the young one staggered a pace or two and fell heavily upon the earth.
Chapter Fifty Three.A Weary Watch.Throwing himself out of his saddle, Willem seized the fallen creature, and hindered it from rising, by keeping its head close pressed against the ground. This was easily done, for the long slender neck of the animal, without much muscular strength, gave him a good chance of holding it down. The weight of the huge hunter’s body was sufficient for that, without any exertion of his strength.Meanwhile the old ones continued their flight, while Willem’s horse, relieved of his load, proceeded to refresh himself by browsing upon the dry herbage that grew near. Willem had obtained what he wanted, a young giraffe. It was actually in his possession. He was holding it under perfect control, and yet it appeared to him that he was as far as ever from the realisation of his hopes! Now that he had got the giraffe, all that he could do was to keep it on the spot where it had fallen. The instant its head might be released from his hold it would spring to its feet again and escape in spite of all his efforts to retain it.He could not allow it to go thus. He had hoped too wildly, travelled too far, and waited too long, for that. The fear that he would still have to surrender his prize or destroy it, was to him a painful thought, and it was only relieved by the hope that in time he might be joined by his companions. They might discover the spoor of his horse, and come to him. In that case there would be no difficulty. The giraffe could then be secured with rheims and become their travelling companion for the rest of the journey to Graaf Reinet. About their coming there was much uncertainty,—at least, their coming in time. They would wait for his return perhaps, until the next morning, before starting out in search of him.Before their arrival, the young giraffe would kill itself with the violent exertions it still continued to make. It was kicking and struggling as if it wanted to leap out of its skin. Such terrible throes could not fail to injure it. Willem was himself suffering from thirst. A long afternoon was before him. It would be followed by a long night,—one in which the lion, that prowling tyrant of the African plains, would be seeking his supper.Would the hunter be allowed to retain possession of his prize? His steed, the faithful creature that had carried him through so many perils, was wandering away from his sight. The horse, too, might stray beyond the chance of being found again. He might be devoured by wild beasts. The horse could still be recovered. Would it not be better to abandon the giraffe and endeavour to get back to his companions? By remaining where he was, he might lose all three,—his horse, his prize, and his own life. What was best to be done? The young hunter was never more perplexed in his life. He was in an agony of doubt and uncertainty. Streams of perspiration were pouring down his cheeks, and his throat felt as if on fire. Slowly he saw the horse strolling away, until he was almost beyond the reach of his vision, and yet could not bring himself to a determination as to what should be done. He had travelled fifteen hundred miles to capture two such creatures as the one now underneath him. He had seized upon one, and, if his companions had done their duty, they might have taken another. This thought counselled him to hold on to the captured giraffe; and he saw the horse disappear over a swell of the plain, just as the sun sunk down below the horizon.For a long time, the giraffe struggled wildly to release itself. Then it remained quiet for a while, not as if it had given up the intention to escape, but as if reflecting on some plan to free itself. Again it would recommence its struggles, and again rest awhile, as though gathering strength for a fresh effort. Gradually it grew resigned to its position, and seemed to breath more tranquilly, while its exertions were less frequent and more feeble. It had learnt that it could remain in the presence of man without meeting death. It had become familiar with his company, and conscious of its own inability to part from it, while man opposed its efforts.Night came down and found Willem still seated by the side of the giraffe, with his arms around its neck. He had the satisfaction of thinking that his companions would now be uneasy at his absence. He felt sure that within a few hours Congo and Spoor’em would be upon his track, with the others following; and, when all should arrive, the young giraffe would be secured. The prospect of such a termination to his adventure did much to make him disregard the agony he was enduring. He soon discovered he was not to be left alone in his vigil; nor was his right to the prize to be left undisputed.His first visitors were hyenas; but their laughter—apparently put forth at seeing him in his ludicrous position—did not induce him to abandon it; and the fierce brutes circled around him, smiling and showing their teeth to no purpose. They were too cowardly to attempt an attack; and their efforts to frighten him were more amusing than otherwise.Soon after sunset the night became very dark,—so dark that although the hyenas approached within a few paces, nothing could be seen of them except their shining eyes. It was just such a night as lions select for going in search of prey,—so dark that the king of beasts can move about unseen, and, while thus protected by invisibility, will pounce upon a man with as much confidence as he will upon a springbok.As Willem was trying to while away the time by hopeful thoughts, the air was shaken around him, by a voice which he knew to be the roar of the lion. One was abroad seeking blood.The clouds that had been for some time rolling up from the south-west became blacker at the instant, and seemed separated by streams of fire, while the low murmurings of distant thunder could be heard far-off in the sky. They were signs that could not be mistaken. A tropical storm was approaching.The voice of the lion told that he was doing the same. Every moment it could be heard, nearer, and more intensely terrifying.Which of them would come first,—the storm or the beast of prey? It seemed a question between them. Already heavy rain-drops were plashing around him. Thirsting as he was, this would have been a welcome sound, but for that other that proceeded from the throat of the lion.The hunter’s familiarity with the habits of the great cat gave him a good idea of how he might expect the latter to approach him. There would be a simultaneous bound and roar, followed by the mangling of a body and the crunching of bones, which he could hardly doubt would be his own.Willem was not often tortured with fear, though at that moment he was not free from apprehension. Still, he awaited the event with calmness.Most people, when frightened, feel an irresistible desire to make a sudden departure from the place where they have been seized with the malady; but this was not the case with Groot Willem. He had the sense to know that by making a move he might run into the jaws of the very danger he wished to avoid; for the roar of the lion gives no guide to the direction the animal may be in. Besides, he was not yet so badly scared as to think of abandoning the prize he had taken such trouble to retain.The rain now came down, and for some time continued to fall in torrents. Brief periods of darkness were followed by gleams of electric light, dazzling in its brilliancy.In a few minutes the fiercest of the storm appeared to be over, and then, as a wind-up to it, there came a long continued blaze of lightning, more brilliant than ever, and a peal of thunder louder than any that had preceded it.By that flash Willem was nearly blinded. The electric shock seemed to strike every nerve in his body, and, had he been standing erect, he certainly would have fallen to the ground. The instant after, so intensely black was all around that he might well have thought for a moment or two that the flash had destroyed his power of vision; but there was another thought on his mind more terrible than this.When the heavens and earth were illumed by that flash, he had obtained a momentary glimpse of an object that drove from his mind every thought but that of immediate death. There was a lion within ten feet of him, just crouching for a spring! Willem would have rushed out of the way, and, abandoning the giraffe, have fled far from the spot. This was his first instinct, but unfortunately he was unable to yield to it. Prostrated, body and soul, by the electric fluid, that had struck the earth within a few feet of him, for a time he was unable to stir.The first distinct thought that came into his mind was astonishment at finding the minute after that the claws of the lion were not buried in his flesh! The blow that had stunned him was not from the paw of the lion, but the lightning. It had saved his life, as the king of beasts, scorched and terrified by the shock, had retreated on the same instant.The storm soon passed over, and a small patch of clear sky appeared opening up on the western horizon. It was soon after occupied by the disk of a silvery moon, under whose soft light Willem continued his vigil, without further molestation from either lion or hyenas.The giraffe was still alive and lying quietly upon the ground; but, from its long and laboured respiration, Willem began to fear that it might die before he would have the chance to release it from the irksome attitude in which he felt bound to retain it.
Throwing himself out of his saddle, Willem seized the fallen creature, and hindered it from rising, by keeping its head close pressed against the ground. This was easily done, for the long slender neck of the animal, without much muscular strength, gave him a good chance of holding it down. The weight of the huge hunter’s body was sufficient for that, without any exertion of his strength.
Meanwhile the old ones continued their flight, while Willem’s horse, relieved of his load, proceeded to refresh himself by browsing upon the dry herbage that grew near. Willem had obtained what he wanted, a young giraffe. It was actually in his possession. He was holding it under perfect control, and yet it appeared to him that he was as far as ever from the realisation of his hopes! Now that he had got the giraffe, all that he could do was to keep it on the spot where it had fallen. The instant its head might be released from his hold it would spring to its feet again and escape in spite of all his efforts to retain it.
He could not allow it to go thus. He had hoped too wildly, travelled too far, and waited too long, for that. The fear that he would still have to surrender his prize or destroy it, was to him a painful thought, and it was only relieved by the hope that in time he might be joined by his companions. They might discover the spoor of his horse, and come to him. In that case there would be no difficulty. The giraffe could then be secured with rheims and become their travelling companion for the rest of the journey to Graaf Reinet. About their coming there was much uncertainty,—at least, their coming in time. They would wait for his return perhaps, until the next morning, before starting out in search of him.
Before their arrival, the young giraffe would kill itself with the violent exertions it still continued to make. It was kicking and struggling as if it wanted to leap out of its skin. Such terrible throes could not fail to injure it. Willem was himself suffering from thirst. A long afternoon was before him. It would be followed by a long night,—one in which the lion, that prowling tyrant of the African plains, would be seeking his supper.
Would the hunter be allowed to retain possession of his prize? His steed, the faithful creature that had carried him through so many perils, was wandering away from his sight. The horse, too, might stray beyond the chance of being found again. He might be devoured by wild beasts. The horse could still be recovered. Would it not be better to abandon the giraffe and endeavour to get back to his companions? By remaining where he was, he might lose all three,—his horse, his prize, and his own life. What was best to be done? The young hunter was never more perplexed in his life. He was in an agony of doubt and uncertainty. Streams of perspiration were pouring down his cheeks, and his throat felt as if on fire. Slowly he saw the horse strolling away, until he was almost beyond the reach of his vision, and yet could not bring himself to a determination as to what should be done. He had travelled fifteen hundred miles to capture two such creatures as the one now underneath him. He had seized upon one, and, if his companions had done their duty, they might have taken another. This thought counselled him to hold on to the captured giraffe; and he saw the horse disappear over a swell of the plain, just as the sun sunk down below the horizon.
For a long time, the giraffe struggled wildly to release itself. Then it remained quiet for a while, not as if it had given up the intention to escape, but as if reflecting on some plan to free itself. Again it would recommence its struggles, and again rest awhile, as though gathering strength for a fresh effort. Gradually it grew resigned to its position, and seemed to breath more tranquilly, while its exertions were less frequent and more feeble. It had learnt that it could remain in the presence of man without meeting death. It had become familiar with his company, and conscious of its own inability to part from it, while man opposed its efforts.
Night came down and found Willem still seated by the side of the giraffe, with his arms around its neck. He had the satisfaction of thinking that his companions would now be uneasy at his absence. He felt sure that within a few hours Congo and Spoor’em would be upon his track, with the others following; and, when all should arrive, the young giraffe would be secured. The prospect of such a termination to his adventure did much to make him disregard the agony he was enduring. He soon discovered he was not to be left alone in his vigil; nor was his right to the prize to be left undisputed.
His first visitors were hyenas; but their laughter—apparently put forth at seeing him in his ludicrous position—did not induce him to abandon it; and the fierce brutes circled around him, smiling and showing their teeth to no purpose. They were too cowardly to attempt an attack; and their efforts to frighten him were more amusing than otherwise.
Soon after sunset the night became very dark,—so dark that although the hyenas approached within a few paces, nothing could be seen of them except their shining eyes. It was just such a night as lions select for going in search of prey,—so dark that the king of beasts can move about unseen, and, while thus protected by invisibility, will pounce upon a man with as much confidence as he will upon a springbok.
As Willem was trying to while away the time by hopeful thoughts, the air was shaken around him, by a voice which he knew to be the roar of the lion. One was abroad seeking blood.
The clouds that had been for some time rolling up from the south-west became blacker at the instant, and seemed separated by streams of fire, while the low murmurings of distant thunder could be heard far-off in the sky. They were signs that could not be mistaken. A tropical storm was approaching.
The voice of the lion told that he was doing the same. Every moment it could be heard, nearer, and more intensely terrifying.
Which of them would come first,—the storm or the beast of prey? It seemed a question between them. Already heavy rain-drops were plashing around him. Thirsting as he was, this would have been a welcome sound, but for that other that proceeded from the throat of the lion.
The hunter’s familiarity with the habits of the great cat gave him a good idea of how he might expect the latter to approach him. There would be a simultaneous bound and roar, followed by the mangling of a body and the crunching of bones, which he could hardly doubt would be his own.
Willem was not often tortured with fear, though at that moment he was not free from apprehension. Still, he awaited the event with calmness.
Most people, when frightened, feel an irresistible desire to make a sudden departure from the place where they have been seized with the malady; but this was not the case with Groot Willem. He had the sense to know that by making a move he might run into the jaws of the very danger he wished to avoid; for the roar of the lion gives no guide to the direction the animal may be in. Besides, he was not yet so badly scared as to think of abandoning the prize he had taken such trouble to retain.
The rain now came down, and for some time continued to fall in torrents. Brief periods of darkness were followed by gleams of electric light, dazzling in its brilliancy.
In a few minutes the fiercest of the storm appeared to be over, and then, as a wind-up to it, there came a long continued blaze of lightning, more brilliant than ever, and a peal of thunder louder than any that had preceded it.
By that flash Willem was nearly blinded. The electric shock seemed to strike every nerve in his body, and, had he been standing erect, he certainly would have fallen to the ground. The instant after, so intensely black was all around that he might well have thought for a moment or two that the flash had destroyed his power of vision; but there was another thought on his mind more terrible than this.
When the heavens and earth were illumed by that flash, he had obtained a momentary glimpse of an object that drove from his mind every thought but that of immediate death. There was a lion within ten feet of him, just crouching for a spring! Willem would have rushed out of the way, and, abandoning the giraffe, have fled far from the spot. This was his first instinct, but unfortunately he was unable to yield to it. Prostrated, body and soul, by the electric fluid, that had struck the earth within a few feet of him, for a time he was unable to stir.
The first distinct thought that came into his mind was astonishment at finding the minute after that the claws of the lion were not buried in his flesh! The blow that had stunned him was not from the paw of the lion, but the lightning. It had saved his life, as the king of beasts, scorched and terrified by the shock, had retreated on the same instant.
The storm soon passed over, and a small patch of clear sky appeared opening up on the western horizon. It was soon after occupied by the disk of a silvery moon, under whose soft light Willem continued his vigil, without further molestation from either lion or hyenas.
The giraffe was still alive and lying quietly upon the ground; but, from its long and laboured respiration, Willem began to fear that it might die before he would have the chance to release it from the irksome attitude in which he felt bound to retain it.
Chapter Fifty Four.Chance better than Skill.The camelopards followed by Hans, Hendrik, and Arend had continued up the bank of the stream; and, being the main body of the herd, were pursued without the hunters having noticed the defection of Willem.With such noble game in view, and in hot pursuit of it, these three youths were as much excited as Groot Willem himself. Full of ardour they pressed on. Their horses were spurred to such a speed as soon brought them close upon the heels of the flying game.It was only then that Willem was observed to have parted from them. He was seen half a mile off, and fast increasing the distance. He was heading northward.This discovery scarce caused them a thought. Each was too much interested in his own chase to think of the others.They soon closed in upon the giraffes, that had been driven into a sharp bend of the river.The hunted animals, on perceiving the obstruction, turned back, but found their retreat cut off. The pursuers were coming on behind them.Arend, who was to the right of the others, was just in time to prevent the giraffes from escaping with dry hoofs, by riding rapidly in advance of his companions.The herd was again headed towards the river.In forcing them round, Arend was placed within a few yards of the largest. The instinctive desire to bring down such a grand creature could not be resisted, and, without bringing his horse to a stand, he placed the barrel of his rifle on a line with the camelopard’s head and fired. Skill or chance favoured him, and the giraffe dropped to the shot.Though a gigantic creature, standing sixteen feet in height the one small bullet, scarce bigger than a pea, was all that was necessary to bring its towering form to the earth. It had been hit on the side of the head, just behind the eye; and, as it received the shot, it raised its fore feet from the ground, spun around as on a pivot, and then fell heavily on its side. As though desirous of putting a period to its sufferings as soon as possible, as soon as it was down it commenced beating the ground violently with its shattered head.The remaining giraffes were driven on toward the stream, where, seeing no other way of avoiding the enemy that pursued them, they plunged into the water.The stream was neither broad nor deep, yet was it one that could not be conveniently crossed at that particular spot. The bank on both sides rose several feet above the water; and, from the way in which the animals were wading across, it was evident they were going upon a soft bottom. Not until several of them had reached the opposite shore and made an ineffectual attempt to get out of the channel, did our hunters have any hope of capturing one of the young giraffes. Hitherto they had not thought of being able to take them alive. They had entered upon the chase solely for its excitement, and for the destroying of animal life; but on seeing the camelopards struggling in the stream, they became animated with the same hope that was inspiring Groot Willem about the same time, but on a far distant part of the plain.“They can’t get up the bank,” shouted Hendrik, “and there are two young ones among them. Let us try to get hold of them.”To carry out Hendrik’s proposal, but little time was lost in arranging a plan. It was instantly decided that they should separate, and one try to reach the other side of the stream.This task was assigned to Hendrik. Riding beyond the bend of the river, he reached a place where the bank was shelving and, dashing in, he soon gained the opposite shore.A part of the equipment of each horse ridden by the hunters was a long rheim made of buffalo hide, and used for the purpose of tethering their animals when upon the grass. At one end of the rheim Hendrik had a loop, such as is used in the lazos of Spanish America. This was the means he intended to make use of for capturing the young giraffes.On riding opposite to them he found them still in the water. Wearied by their late run, they were standing quietly, apparently too much exhausted to raise their feet out of the soft ooze in which they were sinking deeper and deeper. Two or three of the stronger ones alone continued their struggle to gain the shore, though not one of the drove seemed to think of making escape by moving up or down the stream. They were deterred from this by the presence of Hans and Arend, who had placed themselves on projecting points of the bank, above and below. The appearance of Hendrik directly in front of them caused a change in their attitude. Led by a large male, they commenced plunging about as if determined to make a break up stream. But Arend, who was in that quarter, had only a few paces to go before again appearing to be directly ahead of them, and this brought them a second time to a stand. After a short pause and a good deal of violent plunging, they now turned down stream, in hopes of escaping that way. So sharp was the bend of the river, that Hans, who guarded there, was able to show himself, as if right in front of them, and by loud shouts he once more brought them to bay. As a further encouragement to the hunters to continue the attempt at capturing the young giraffes, they noticed that these made but slight efforts to escape. The mud at the bottom was too tough for the strength of their slender limbs. In the narrow stream they were unable to get out of reach of the rheims, which all three of the hunters had now detached from their saddles, and were looking out for an opportunity to use.In their efforts to avoid their enemies, the frightened camelopards now rushed to and fro, wearily dragging their feet from the mud, until they were hardly able to move. Hendrik, who was nearest, after two or three ineffectual trials, at length succeeded in throwing his snare over the head of one of the young ones. As soon as he had done so, he leaped out of his saddle, and made fast the other end of his rheim to a tree. There was no chance for the giraffe to break away after that. However strong it might be in the body, its long slender neck was too feeble to aid it in a violent effort; and it soon submitted to its confinement.“Try and catch the other,” exclaimed Hendrik to his companions, pointing to the second of the young giraffes. “Make haste, and you will have it. See! it’s stuck in the mud. Quick with your rheim, Hans, quick!”In a second or two, Hans, obeying the call, succeeded in throwing his snare, and the second of the young giraffes became a captive.As this was all that was wanted, the rest of the herd received no further attention,—the hunters being wholly occupied with the two they had taken.Left free, the crowd of camelopards once more made a break to get off down stream. In their struggles to escape, one of the young—that captured by Hendrik—was borne down and trampled under the water.It was not carried off. The rope still retained it; but, although it remained in the hands of its captors, it was only in the shape of a carcass. It was partly drowned by its head being carried under water, and partly choked by the noose having tightened around its neck.As soon as the herd had gone off, the three hunters turned their attention to the captive that was still alive. It was at first fairly secured, so as to prevent the noose from slipping, and then carefully led out of the stream.For some time it struggled to get free, but, as if convinced that its efforts would be idle, it soon desisted.Exhausted with the long race, as well as by its subsequent exertions in the water, it was the more easily subdued.Our three hunters were in ecstasies. They had now obtained one young giraffe, and there was a possibility of their yet procuring another. The feat of capturing these creatures, that had baffled so many hunters, was proved not to be impossible. After all, Groot Willem had not been like a child crying for the moon. He had hoped for nothing more than might be accomplished. The welfare of their captive was now their greatest care; and, to give it an opportunity of recovering from its fright, as also to get it a little better acquainted with its new companions, they resolved to allow it an hour’s rest before returning to the camp.The young giraffe was too much exhausted to make any further effort at freeing itself.With the mild and gentle character of the camel, and nothing of the leopard in its nature, the giraffe soon becomes resigned to captivity.
The camelopards followed by Hans, Hendrik, and Arend had continued up the bank of the stream; and, being the main body of the herd, were pursued without the hunters having noticed the defection of Willem.
With such noble game in view, and in hot pursuit of it, these three youths were as much excited as Groot Willem himself. Full of ardour they pressed on. Their horses were spurred to such a speed as soon brought them close upon the heels of the flying game.
It was only then that Willem was observed to have parted from them. He was seen half a mile off, and fast increasing the distance. He was heading northward.
This discovery scarce caused them a thought. Each was too much interested in his own chase to think of the others.
They soon closed in upon the giraffes, that had been driven into a sharp bend of the river.
The hunted animals, on perceiving the obstruction, turned back, but found their retreat cut off. The pursuers were coming on behind them.
Arend, who was to the right of the others, was just in time to prevent the giraffes from escaping with dry hoofs, by riding rapidly in advance of his companions.
The herd was again headed towards the river.
In forcing them round, Arend was placed within a few yards of the largest. The instinctive desire to bring down such a grand creature could not be resisted, and, without bringing his horse to a stand, he placed the barrel of his rifle on a line with the camelopard’s head and fired. Skill or chance favoured him, and the giraffe dropped to the shot.
Though a gigantic creature, standing sixteen feet in height the one small bullet, scarce bigger than a pea, was all that was necessary to bring its towering form to the earth. It had been hit on the side of the head, just behind the eye; and, as it received the shot, it raised its fore feet from the ground, spun around as on a pivot, and then fell heavily on its side. As though desirous of putting a period to its sufferings as soon as possible, as soon as it was down it commenced beating the ground violently with its shattered head.
The remaining giraffes were driven on toward the stream, where, seeing no other way of avoiding the enemy that pursued them, they plunged into the water.
The stream was neither broad nor deep, yet was it one that could not be conveniently crossed at that particular spot. The bank on both sides rose several feet above the water; and, from the way in which the animals were wading across, it was evident they were going upon a soft bottom. Not until several of them had reached the opposite shore and made an ineffectual attempt to get out of the channel, did our hunters have any hope of capturing one of the young giraffes. Hitherto they had not thought of being able to take them alive. They had entered upon the chase solely for its excitement, and for the destroying of animal life; but on seeing the camelopards struggling in the stream, they became animated with the same hope that was inspiring Groot Willem about the same time, but on a far distant part of the plain.
“They can’t get up the bank,” shouted Hendrik, “and there are two young ones among them. Let us try to get hold of them.”
To carry out Hendrik’s proposal, but little time was lost in arranging a plan. It was instantly decided that they should separate, and one try to reach the other side of the stream.
This task was assigned to Hendrik. Riding beyond the bend of the river, he reached a place where the bank was shelving and, dashing in, he soon gained the opposite shore.
A part of the equipment of each horse ridden by the hunters was a long rheim made of buffalo hide, and used for the purpose of tethering their animals when upon the grass. At one end of the rheim Hendrik had a loop, such as is used in the lazos of Spanish America. This was the means he intended to make use of for capturing the young giraffes.
On riding opposite to them he found them still in the water. Wearied by their late run, they were standing quietly, apparently too much exhausted to raise their feet out of the soft ooze in which they were sinking deeper and deeper. Two or three of the stronger ones alone continued their struggle to gain the shore, though not one of the drove seemed to think of making escape by moving up or down the stream. They were deterred from this by the presence of Hans and Arend, who had placed themselves on projecting points of the bank, above and below. The appearance of Hendrik directly in front of them caused a change in their attitude. Led by a large male, they commenced plunging about as if determined to make a break up stream. But Arend, who was in that quarter, had only a few paces to go before again appearing to be directly ahead of them, and this brought them a second time to a stand. After a short pause and a good deal of violent plunging, they now turned down stream, in hopes of escaping that way. So sharp was the bend of the river, that Hans, who guarded there, was able to show himself, as if right in front of them, and by loud shouts he once more brought them to bay. As a further encouragement to the hunters to continue the attempt at capturing the young giraffes, they noticed that these made but slight efforts to escape. The mud at the bottom was too tough for the strength of their slender limbs. In the narrow stream they were unable to get out of reach of the rheims, which all three of the hunters had now detached from their saddles, and were looking out for an opportunity to use.
In their efforts to avoid their enemies, the frightened camelopards now rushed to and fro, wearily dragging their feet from the mud, until they were hardly able to move. Hendrik, who was nearest, after two or three ineffectual trials, at length succeeded in throwing his snare over the head of one of the young ones. As soon as he had done so, he leaped out of his saddle, and made fast the other end of his rheim to a tree. There was no chance for the giraffe to break away after that. However strong it might be in the body, its long slender neck was too feeble to aid it in a violent effort; and it soon submitted to its confinement.
“Try and catch the other,” exclaimed Hendrik to his companions, pointing to the second of the young giraffes. “Make haste, and you will have it. See! it’s stuck in the mud. Quick with your rheim, Hans, quick!”
In a second or two, Hans, obeying the call, succeeded in throwing his snare, and the second of the young giraffes became a captive.
As this was all that was wanted, the rest of the herd received no further attention,—the hunters being wholly occupied with the two they had taken.
Left free, the crowd of camelopards once more made a break to get off down stream. In their struggles to escape, one of the young—that captured by Hendrik—was borne down and trampled under the water.
It was not carried off. The rope still retained it; but, although it remained in the hands of its captors, it was only in the shape of a carcass. It was partly drowned by its head being carried under water, and partly choked by the noose having tightened around its neck.
As soon as the herd had gone off, the three hunters turned their attention to the captive that was still alive. It was at first fairly secured, so as to prevent the noose from slipping, and then carefully led out of the stream.
For some time it struggled to get free, but, as if convinced that its efforts would be idle, it soon desisted.
Exhausted with the long race, as well as by its subsequent exertions in the water, it was the more easily subdued.
Our three hunters were in ecstasies. They had now obtained one young giraffe, and there was a possibility of their yet procuring another. The feat of capturing these creatures, that had baffled so many hunters, was proved not to be impossible. After all, Groot Willem had not been like a child crying for the moon. He had hoped for nothing more than might be accomplished. The welfare of their captive was now their greatest care; and, to give it an opportunity of recovering from its fright, as also to get it a little better acquainted with its new companions, they resolved to allow it an hour’s rest before returning to the camp.
The young giraffe was too much exhausted to make any further effort at freeing itself.
With the mild and gentle character of the camel, and nothing of the leopard in its nature, the giraffe soon becomes resigned to captivity.
Chapter Fifty Five.A Reverse of Fortune.Having given their captive the desired rest, during which it had displayed its good sense by remaining most of the time in quiet, the hunters prepared to drive it to their camp.Mounted on their horses, Arend and Hans each took the end of a rheim, which was fastened midway to its neck. They intended to ride a little in advance of the captive, keeping also some distance apart from each other. This would hinder it from turning either to the right or left. Hendrik was to come on behind and urge the creature forward, should it show a disposition to try the strength of its neck by hanging back upon the rheims.This plan worked extremely well. The young captive was compelled to follow the two horsemen in an undeviating line; and every attempt made to remain stationary or go backwards was rewarded by a blow from Hendrik’s jambok. Then the strain on the ropes would instantly be relieved by the animal springing forward. In this manner the creature was conducted along without the slightest trouble; and near the middle of the afternoon, they reached the place from whence they had started out on the hunt.On the ground they discovered their pack-saddles, cooking utensils, and other impedimenta, but nothing was seen of Congo, Swartboy, the four Makololo, or the cattle! All were away! Moreover, they had hopes of meeting Groot Willem on their return, and were anticipating great pleasure from the encounter. They knew how rejoiced he would be at their success. But where were the camp followers? Where were Swartboy and Congo?There was a mystery in their absence that none of the three hunters could solve.Why had the property been left exposed by those placed in charge of it? Could the Makololo have robbed them of their cattle? Had Congo and Swartboy proved traitors? This was very improbable. But why were they not there?For some time our adventurers could do nothing but wait, in the hope that time would explain all, and bring the absentees back.Not an ox, horse, or dog was to be seen. The bundles of ivory, enveloped in grass matting, were lying where they had been left in the morning. If a robbery had been committed, why was this valuable property left untouched?As no one could make answer, the solution had to be left to time.Evening came on, and the three hunters were still distracted by conflicting hopes, fears, and doubts. The prolonged absence of Willem now began to cause them a serious apprehension. It was time something should be done towards finding him; but what were they to do? Where should they seek? They knew not; still, they should go somewhere.As night approached, leaving Hans to take care of the young giraffe, Arend and Hendrik started off in the direction in which Willem had last been seen.The twilight was fast disappearing before they had proceeded a mile from the camp, but under its dim light they perceived Congo and Swartboy coming towards them. They were only accompanied by the dogs.The two hunters hastened forward, and soon came up with them. Hendrik commenced hastily questioning the Bushman, while Arend did the same to the Kaffir, in the endeavour to get some information of what had so much mystified them.The questions “Where is Willem?” “Where are the cattle?” “Why did you leave the camp?” “Where are the Makololo?” were asked in rapid succession, and to all they received but one answer,—the word “Yaas.”“Will you not tell me, you yellow demon?” shouted Hendrik, impatient at not getting the answer he wished.“Yaas, baas Hendrik,” answered Swartboy; “what you want to know first?”“Where is Willem?”This was a question that, in the Bushman’s way of thinking, required some consideration before he could venture on a reply; but while he was hesitating, Congo answered, “We don’t know.”“Ha, ha! Congo is a fool,” exclaimed Swartboy. “We saw baas Willem going away this morning with the ress of you, after the tootlas.”It was not until the youths were driven nearly wild with impatience that they succeeded in learning what they wished. Willem had not returned, and the two Africans knew less about the cause of his absence than they did themselves. During the day, the cattle, in feeding, had strayed to some distance over the plain. The four Makololo had gone after them, and had not returned. Swartboy and Congo admitted that they had slept awhile in the afternoon, and only on awaking had discovered that the cattle and Makololo were missing. They had then started out in search of both. They had found the ambassadors of Macora in great trouble. A party of Bechuanas had chanced upon them, and taken from them the whole of the cattle!The Makololo were in great distress about the affair, and, fearing they would be blamed for the loss of the cattle, were afraid to return to the camp of the hunters. They were then halted about two miles down the river, and were talking of going back to their home, quite certain that the white hunters would have nothing more to do with them.The folly of having left their property unprotected, when in the neighbourhood of African tribes whose honesty could not be relied on, now, for the first time, occurred to our adventurers.The Bechuanas, who will steal from each other, or from the people of any nation, in all probability would not have taken the cattle, had one of the whites been present to claim ownership in them.The Bechuana robbers had found them in the possession of only four strange men, Africans, who belonged far north, and had no right to be within Bechuana territory. The opportunity was too good to be lost, and, so tempted, they had driven the animals away.There could be no help for what had happened,—at all events, not for the present. To discover the whereabouts of Willem was the care that was most pressing, and they one more proceeded in search of him.As the night had now come on they could have done nothing of themselves, but the presence of Congo, accompanied by his hound Spoor’em, inspired them with fresh hope, and they proceeded onward.After a time it became so dark that Arend proposed a halt until morning. To this Hendrik objected, Congo taking sides with him.“Do you remember the night you were under the baobab-tree, dodging the borelé?” asked Hendrik.“Say no more,” answered Arend. “If you wish it I am willing to go on.”Swartboy was sent back to the camp to join Hans, while the Kaffir and Spoor’em led the way. Under the direction of Hendrik they soon came to the place where Willem had been last seen. There were no signs of him anywhere.The joy with which they had returned to their camp had now departed. Something unusual had happened to their companion,—something disastrous. Their cattle and pack-horses were lost, driven away they knew not whither, by a tribe that might be able to retain them, even should they be found.Under these circumstances what cared they any longer for the captured giraffe.Such were the reveries of Hendrik and Arend as they followed their Kaffir guide through the gloom of the night.
Having given their captive the desired rest, during which it had displayed its good sense by remaining most of the time in quiet, the hunters prepared to drive it to their camp.
Mounted on their horses, Arend and Hans each took the end of a rheim, which was fastened midway to its neck. They intended to ride a little in advance of the captive, keeping also some distance apart from each other. This would hinder it from turning either to the right or left. Hendrik was to come on behind and urge the creature forward, should it show a disposition to try the strength of its neck by hanging back upon the rheims.
This plan worked extremely well. The young captive was compelled to follow the two horsemen in an undeviating line; and every attempt made to remain stationary or go backwards was rewarded by a blow from Hendrik’s jambok. Then the strain on the ropes would instantly be relieved by the animal springing forward. In this manner the creature was conducted along without the slightest trouble; and near the middle of the afternoon, they reached the place from whence they had started out on the hunt.
On the ground they discovered their pack-saddles, cooking utensils, and other impedimenta, but nothing was seen of Congo, Swartboy, the four Makololo, or the cattle! All were away! Moreover, they had hopes of meeting Groot Willem on their return, and were anticipating great pleasure from the encounter. They knew how rejoiced he would be at their success. But where were the camp followers? Where were Swartboy and Congo?
There was a mystery in their absence that none of the three hunters could solve.
Why had the property been left exposed by those placed in charge of it? Could the Makololo have robbed them of their cattle? Had Congo and Swartboy proved traitors? This was very improbable. But why were they not there?
For some time our adventurers could do nothing but wait, in the hope that time would explain all, and bring the absentees back.
Not an ox, horse, or dog was to be seen. The bundles of ivory, enveloped in grass matting, were lying where they had been left in the morning. If a robbery had been committed, why was this valuable property left untouched?
As no one could make answer, the solution had to be left to time.
Evening came on, and the three hunters were still distracted by conflicting hopes, fears, and doubts. The prolonged absence of Willem now began to cause them a serious apprehension. It was time something should be done towards finding him; but what were they to do? Where should they seek? They knew not; still, they should go somewhere.
As night approached, leaving Hans to take care of the young giraffe, Arend and Hendrik started off in the direction in which Willem had last been seen.
The twilight was fast disappearing before they had proceeded a mile from the camp, but under its dim light they perceived Congo and Swartboy coming towards them. They were only accompanied by the dogs.
The two hunters hastened forward, and soon came up with them. Hendrik commenced hastily questioning the Bushman, while Arend did the same to the Kaffir, in the endeavour to get some information of what had so much mystified them.
The questions “Where is Willem?” “Where are the cattle?” “Why did you leave the camp?” “Where are the Makololo?” were asked in rapid succession, and to all they received but one answer,—the word “Yaas.”
“Will you not tell me, you yellow demon?” shouted Hendrik, impatient at not getting the answer he wished.
“Yaas, baas Hendrik,” answered Swartboy; “what you want to know first?”
“Where is Willem?”
This was a question that, in the Bushman’s way of thinking, required some consideration before he could venture on a reply; but while he was hesitating, Congo answered, “We don’t know.”
“Ha, ha! Congo is a fool,” exclaimed Swartboy. “We saw baas Willem going away this morning with the ress of you, after the tootlas.”
It was not until the youths were driven nearly wild with impatience that they succeeded in learning what they wished. Willem had not returned, and the two Africans knew less about the cause of his absence than they did themselves. During the day, the cattle, in feeding, had strayed to some distance over the plain. The four Makololo had gone after them, and had not returned. Swartboy and Congo admitted that they had slept awhile in the afternoon, and only on awaking had discovered that the cattle and Makololo were missing. They had then started out in search of both. They had found the ambassadors of Macora in great trouble. A party of Bechuanas had chanced upon them, and taken from them the whole of the cattle!
The Makololo were in great distress about the affair, and, fearing they would be blamed for the loss of the cattle, were afraid to return to the camp of the hunters. They were then halted about two miles down the river, and were talking of going back to their home, quite certain that the white hunters would have nothing more to do with them.
The folly of having left their property unprotected, when in the neighbourhood of African tribes whose honesty could not be relied on, now, for the first time, occurred to our adventurers.
The Bechuanas, who will steal from each other, or from the people of any nation, in all probability would not have taken the cattle, had one of the whites been present to claim ownership in them.
The Bechuana robbers had found them in the possession of only four strange men, Africans, who belonged far north, and had no right to be within Bechuana territory. The opportunity was too good to be lost, and, so tempted, they had driven the animals away.
There could be no help for what had happened,—at all events, not for the present. To discover the whereabouts of Willem was the care that was most pressing, and they one more proceeded in search of him.
As the night had now come on they could have done nothing of themselves, but the presence of Congo, accompanied by his hound Spoor’em, inspired them with fresh hope, and they proceeded onward.
After a time it became so dark that Arend proposed a halt until morning. To this Hendrik objected, Congo taking sides with him.
“Do you remember the night you were under the baobab-tree, dodging the borelé?” asked Hendrik.
“Say no more,” answered Arend. “If you wish it I am willing to go on.”
Swartboy was sent back to the camp to join Hans, while the Kaffir and Spoor’em led the way. Under the direction of Hendrik they soon came to the place where Willem had been last seen. There were no signs of him anywhere.
The joy with which they had returned to their camp had now departed. Something unusual had happened to their companion,—something disastrous. Their cattle and pack-horses were lost, driven away they knew not whither, by a tribe that might be able to retain them, even should they be found.
Under these circumstances what cared they any longer for the captured giraffe.
Such were the reveries of Hendrik and Arend as they followed their Kaffir guide through the gloom of the night.
Chapter Fifty Six.The Search for Willem.To all appearance, Congo had some secret method of communicating to the dog Spoor’em what was required of him. The animal ran to the right and left, keeping a little in the advance, and with its muzzle close down to the surface, as if searching for a spoor. Most of the time it was out of sight, hidden by the darkness, but every now and then it would flit like a shadow across their track, and they could hear an occasional sniff as it lifted the scent from the ground.They had not proceeded more than half a mile in this manner when Spoor’em expressed a more decided opinion of something that interested him, by giving utterance to a short, sharp bark.“He’s found the spoor,” exclaimed Congo, hastening forward. “I told um do that, and I knowed he would.”They were all soon up with the dog, which kept moving forward at a slow trot, occasionally lowering its snout to the grass, as though to make sure against going astray. Unlike most other hounds, Spoor’em would follow a track without rushing forward on the scent, and leaving the hunters behind.Arend and Hendrik knew this, though still uncertain about being on the traces of Groot Willem.The night was so dark they could not distinguish footmarks, and they had not the slightest evidence of their own for believing that they were on the tracks of Willem’s horse.“How do you know that we are going right, Cong?” asked Hendrik.“We follow Spoor’em; he know it,” answered the Kaffir. “He find anything that go over the grass.”“But can you be sure that he is following the spoor of Willem’s horse?”“Yaas, Master Hendrik, very sure of it. Spoor’em is no fool. He knows well what we want.”With blind confidence in the sagacity both of the Kaffir and his dog, the two hunters rode on at a gentle trot, taking more than an hour to travel the same distance that Willem had gone over in a few minutes.There was a prospect that the trail they were following might conduct them back to the camp, and that there would be found the man they were in search of. Willem would be certain not to return over the same ground where he had pursued the giraffes, and they might be spending the night upon his tracks, while he was waiting for them at the camp.This thought suggested a return.Another consideration might have counselled them to it. A thunder-storm was threatening, and the difficulties of their search would be greatly increased.But all inclinations to go back were subdued by the reflection that possibly Willem might be in danger, and in need of their assistance, and with this thought they determined to go on.The dog was now urged forward at a greater speed. The storm was rapidly approaching; and they knew that, after the ground had been saturated by a fall of rain, the scent would be less easily taken up, and their tracking might be brought to an end.The elements soon after opened upon them, but still they kept on in the midst of the pelting rain, consoling themselves for what was disagreeable, by the reflection that they were performing their duty to their lost friend.It was not until the thunder-shower had passed over, that Spoor’em began to show some doubt as to the course he was pursuing. The heavy rain had not only destroyed the scent but the traces of the footmarks, and the dog was no longer able to make them out. For the last half hour, they had been moving through an atmosphere dark as Erebus itself. They had been unable to see each other, except when the universe seemed illumed by the flashes of lightning.The night had now become clear. The moon had made her appearance in the western sky; and the search might have been continued with less difficulty than before, but for the obliteration of the spoor. The dog seemed bewildered, and ran about in short broken circles, as though quite frantic at the thought of having lost the use of the most important of his senses.“We shall have to return at last,” said Hendrik, despairingly. “We can do nothing more to-night.”They were about to act according to this advice, when the loud roar of a lion was heard some half mile off, and in the direction from which they had just ridden. In going back that way they might encounter the fierce creature.“I have kept the lock of my rifle as dry as possible,” said Arend, “but it may not be safe to trust it. I think I shall reload.”Drawing the rifle out of the piece of leopard skin with which the lock had been covered, Arend pointed the muzzle upwards and pulled trigger. The gun went off.As the report fainted away in the distance, the far-off sound of a human voice could be heard as if shouted back in answer to the shot. What they heard was the word “Hilloo.”They hastened in the direction from whence the sound seemed to proceed. Even the dog appeared suddenly relieved from its perplexity, and led the way. In less than ten minutes they were standing around Willem, delighted at finding him in safety, and in the possession of a live giraffe.“How long have you been here?” asked Hendrik, after the first moments of their joyful greeting had passed.“Ever since noon,” was Willem’s reply.“And how much longer would you have stayed, had we not found you?”“Until either this giraffe or I should have died,” answered Willem. “I should not have abandoned it before.”“But supposing you had died first, how would it have been then?” asked Arend.“No doubt,” replied Willem, “something would very soon have taken me away. But why don’t you take my place here, one of you? I must stretch my legs, or I shall never be able to stand upright again.”Hendrik placed his hands on the head of the giraffe, and Willem with some difficulty arose, and, after walking around the prostrate animal, declared that he had never been happy until that moment.It was decided that they should not attempt to stir from the place until morning; and the rest of the night, with the exception of an hour or two devoted to sleep, was passed in asking questions and giving explanations. Willem was a little woeful about the loss of his riding-horse, and also on learning of the robbery of the cattle; but these misfortunes could not entirely counteract the joy he felt at having taken the young giraffe.“This creature is quite tame now,” said he; “and if I cannot find my horse again, I shall ride it to Graaf Reinet. Before I do that, however, I shall use it in catching another. I must and shall have two, and we can easily find another chance. You and Hans ought to be ashamed of yourselves. The three of you have not done so well as I. You have allowed two or more young giraffes to escape, while I, single-handed, captured all the young that were in the herd I followed.”Arend and Hendrik glanced significantly at one another while Congo stared at both of them. A shake of the head given by Hendrik was understood by the two who were in the secret, for Congo had been told of the capture of the second giraffe, and of course not a word was said to Willem of that affair. His companions preferred giving him a surprise.
To all appearance, Congo had some secret method of communicating to the dog Spoor’em what was required of him. The animal ran to the right and left, keeping a little in the advance, and with its muzzle close down to the surface, as if searching for a spoor. Most of the time it was out of sight, hidden by the darkness, but every now and then it would flit like a shadow across their track, and they could hear an occasional sniff as it lifted the scent from the ground.
They had not proceeded more than half a mile in this manner when Spoor’em expressed a more decided opinion of something that interested him, by giving utterance to a short, sharp bark.
“He’s found the spoor,” exclaimed Congo, hastening forward. “I told um do that, and I knowed he would.”
They were all soon up with the dog, which kept moving forward at a slow trot, occasionally lowering its snout to the grass, as though to make sure against going astray. Unlike most other hounds, Spoor’em would follow a track without rushing forward on the scent, and leaving the hunters behind.
Arend and Hendrik knew this, though still uncertain about being on the traces of Groot Willem.
The night was so dark they could not distinguish footmarks, and they had not the slightest evidence of their own for believing that they were on the tracks of Willem’s horse.
“How do you know that we are going right, Cong?” asked Hendrik.
“We follow Spoor’em; he know it,” answered the Kaffir. “He find anything that go over the grass.”
“But can you be sure that he is following the spoor of Willem’s horse?”
“Yaas, Master Hendrik, very sure of it. Spoor’em is no fool. He knows well what we want.”
With blind confidence in the sagacity both of the Kaffir and his dog, the two hunters rode on at a gentle trot, taking more than an hour to travel the same distance that Willem had gone over in a few minutes.
There was a prospect that the trail they were following might conduct them back to the camp, and that there would be found the man they were in search of. Willem would be certain not to return over the same ground where he had pursued the giraffes, and they might be spending the night upon his tracks, while he was waiting for them at the camp.
This thought suggested a return.
Another consideration might have counselled them to it. A thunder-storm was threatening, and the difficulties of their search would be greatly increased.
But all inclinations to go back were subdued by the reflection that possibly Willem might be in danger, and in need of their assistance, and with this thought they determined to go on.
The dog was now urged forward at a greater speed. The storm was rapidly approaching; and they knew that, after the ground had been saturated by a fall of rain, the scent would be less easily taken up, and their tracking might be brought to an end.
The elements soon after opened upon them, but still they kept on in the midst of the pelting rain, consoling themselves for what was disagreeable, by the reflection that they were performing their duty to their lost friend.
It was not until the thunder-shower had passed over, that Spoor’em began to show some doubt as to the course he was pursuing. The heavy rain had not only destroyed the scent but the traces of the footmarks, and the dog was no longer able to make them out. For the last half hour, they had been moving through an atmosphere dark as Erebus itself. They had been unable to see each other, except when the universe seemed illumed by the flashes of lightning.
The night had now become clear. The moon had made her appearance in the western sky; and the search might have been continued with less difficulty than before, but for the obliteration of the spoor. The dog seemed bewildered, and ran about in short broken circles, as though quite frantic at the thought of having lost the use of the most important of his senses.
“We shall have to return at last,” said Hendrik, despairingly. “We can do nothing more to-night.”
They were about to act according to this advice, when the loud roar of a lion was heard some half mile off, and in the direction from which they had just ridden. In going back that way they might encounter the fierce creature.
“I have kept the lock of my rifle as dry as possible,” said Arend, “but it may not be safe to trust it. I think I shall reload.”
Drawing the rifle out of the piece of leopard skin with which the lock had been covered, Arend pointed the muzzle upwards and pulled trigger. The gun went off.
As the report fainted away in the distance, the far-off sound of a human voice could be heard as if shouted back in answer to the shot. What they heard was the word “Hilloo.”
They hastened in the direction from whence the sound seemed to proceed. Even the dog appeared suddenly relieved from its perplexity, and led the way. In less than ten minutes they were standing around Willem, delighted at finding him in safety, and in the possession of a live giraffe.
“How long have you been here?” asked Hendrik, after the first moments of their joyful greeting had passed.
“Ever since noon,” was Willem’s reply.
“And how much longer would you have stayed, had we not found you?”
“Until either this giraffe or I should have died,” answered Willem. “I should not have abandoned it before.”
“But supposing you had died first, how would it have been then?” asked Arend.
“No doubt,” replied Willem, “something would very soon have taken me away. But why don’t you take my place here, one of you? I must stretch my legs, or I shall never be able to stand upright again.”
Hendrik placed his hands on the head of the giraffe, and Willem with some difficulty arose, and, after walking around the prostrate animal, declared that he had never been happy until that moment.
It was decided that they should not attempt to stir from the place until morning; and the rest of the night, with the exception of an hour or two devoted to sleep, was passed in asking questions and giving explanations. Willem was a little woeful about the loss of his riding-horse, and also on learning of the robbery of the cattle; but these misfortunes could not entirely counteract the joy he felt at having taken the young giraffe.
“This creature is quite tame now,” said he; “and if I cannot find my horse again, I shall ride it to Graaf Reinet. Before I do that, however, I shall use it in catching another. I must and shall have two, and we can easily find another chance. You and Hans ought to be ashamed of yourselves. The three of you have not done so well as I. You have allowed two or more young giraffes to escape, while I, single-handed, captured all the young that were in the herd I followed.”
Arend and Hendrik glanced significantly at one another while Congo stared at both of them. A shake of the head given by Hendrik was understood by the two who were in the secret, for Congo had been told of the capture of the second giraffe, and of course not a word was said to Willem of that affair. His companions preferred giving him a surprise.
Chapter Fifty Seven.An Encounter between old Acquaintances.When morning dawned, the first thought of the hunters was to contrive some plan for getting the young giraffe to the camp.Willem expressed surprise at his companions having come out without their rheims. The reason given by Hendrik for their having done so was that they did not think they would require them; besides, they had left the camp in a hurry.They did not anticipate much difficulty in taking back the giraffe. It appeared so weak and submissive that their only fear was of its not being able to make the journey.For all that, without ropes or lines to lead it, there might be difficulty enough. It might take a notion to resist, or get clear out of their clutches.“I must have a line of some kind,” said Willem, “even if I have to cut a thong from the hide of one of your horses. I have been standing, or rather sitting, sentry over this creature too long, and have travelled too far for the sake of finding it, to allow any chance of its escaping now. It is but half what we want; and if any of you had been worthy the name of hunter, you would have taken the other half.”A few hundred yards from the spot grew a copse of young trees,—slender saplings they were, forming a miniature forest, such as one would like to see when in search of a fishing-rod.Going to this grove, Willem selected out of it two long poles, each having a fork at the end.One of these was placed on each side of the captive giraffe, in such a manner that the forked ends embraced its neck, and when so tied, by twisting the twigs together, formed a sort of neck halter.By this means the creature could be led along, one going on each side of it.Arend grasped the end of one of the poles and Hendrik the other.So long had the young camelopard been kept in a prostrate position, that it was with some difficulty it managed to get to its feet; and, after doing so, its efforts to escape were feeble, and easily defeated.At each attempt to turn to one side, its head was instantly hauled to the other, and it soon discovered that it was no less a captive on its feet than when fast confined in the recumbent attitude.Finding its struggles ineffectual, it soon discontinued them, and resigned itself to the will of its captors.Mounting their horses, Arend and Hendrik held the poles by which the giraffe was to be guided, while Willem and Congo walked on behind. In this manner the captive was conducted towards the camp.More than once during their journey Willem reiterated the reproach already made to his companions. If they had only shown as much energy and determination as he had done, they might now have been ready to take the road for Graaf Reinet, with a triumphant prospect before them.“I would have followed this giraffe,” said he, “until my horse dropped dead, and then I would have followed it on foot until it became mine. I had determined not to be defeated and survive the defeat. Ah! had any of you three shown a particle of the same resolution, we might have abandoned our cattle with pleasure, and started on a straight line for home by daybreak to-morrow morning.”Arend and Hendrik allowed the elated hunter to continue his reproaches uninterrupted. They were quite satisfied with their own conduct; and each had the delicacy to refrain from telling Willem, that, without their assistance, his capture of the young giraffe would only have resulted in the misfortune of losing his horse, and suffering many other inconveniences.They knew that Willem, when free from the intoxication caused by the partial fulfilment of a long-cherished design, would not claim any greater share in the credit of the expedition than he was really entitled to. Moreover, his joy at having captured the giraffe was somewhat damped by the fear that his horse had gone off for good.He was confident that, should he again get possession of him, another giraffe could be taken. With the herd that had been hunted, he had seen two other young ones. They might be found a second time; but there would be a difficulty in running them down, unless he was once more on the back of his tried steed.By noon the camp was reached, when about the first thing that came under the eyes of Groot Willem was a young giraffe standing tied to a tree! Beside it was his own horse!The horse had been brought back by the Makololo, who found him straying over the plain as they were themselves returning to the camp. The presence both of the horse and the Makololo was at once explained. Their original intention to visit the country of the white men had been abandoned by them on account of the loss of their cattle. Without these, they had no means of making the long journey that still lay before them. There seemed nothing for them but to go back to their home to Macora. But they were unwilling to set off without taking leave of their late travelling-companions; and, as they were at the same time afraid of being blamed for the loss of the white hunters’ cattle, as well as their own, they passed the night in great distress, uncertain as to what they should do. Just as morning dawned, they descried Willem’s horse grazing close to the spot where they were encamped. They had last seen the great hunter on this horse’s back, going in pursuit of the giraffes; and they were anxious to learn why the animal was now separated from its rider. They knew that it was greatly prized by its owner, and they believed that, by taking it back to him, they would be forgiven for their neglect.In this, they were not mistaken. About the other animal—the young giraffe that stood tied to a tree—Groot Willem neither asked nor received any explanation. He held his tongue about that. He had been over thirty hours without tasting food, and now without uttering another word, he set to work upon a dinner that Swartboy had cooked for him, and, after showing that his discomfiture had not robbed him of his appetite, he stretched himself along the grass and fell into a sound sleep.The hunters had now but one more task to perform before taking the direct route towards Graaf Reinet. They must make an effort to recover the horses and cattle of which they had been despoiled. The sooner this work should be commenced, the better the prospect of success; but Groot Willem, on being awakened and consulted, declared that he would do nothing but sleep for the next twelve hours; and, saying this, he once more sank into a snoring slumber. As the others could take no important step without him, they were compelled to leave the matter over, till such time as the great hunter should awake, which was not before breakfast-time of the following day.
When morning dawned, the first thought of the hunters was to contrive some plan for getting the young giraffe to the camp.
Willem expressed surprise at his companions having come out without their rheims. The reason given by Hendrik for their having done so was that they did not think they would require them; besides, they had left the camp in a hurry.
They did not anticipate much difficulty in taking back the giraffe. It appeared so weak and submissive that their only fear was of its not being able to make the journey.
For all that, without ropes or lines to lead it, there might be difficulty enough. It might take a notion to resist, or get clear out of their clutches.
“I must have a line of some kind,” said Willem, “even if I have to cut a thong from the hide of one of your horses. I have been standing, or rather sitting, sentry over this creature too long, and have travelled too far for the sake of finding it, to allow any chance of its escaping now. It is but half what we want; and if any of you had been worthy the name of hunter, you would have taken the other half.”
A few hundred yards from the spot grew a copse of young trees,—slender saplings they were, forming a miniature forest, such as one would like to see when in search of a fishing-rod.
Going to this grove, Willem selected out of it two long poles, each having a fork at the end.
One of these was placed on each side of the captive giraffe, in such a manner that the forked ends embraced its neck, and when so tied, by twisting the twigs together, formed a sort of neck halter.
By this means the creature could be led along, one going on each side of it.
Arend grasped the end of one of the poles and Hendrik the other.
So long had the young camelopard been kept in a prostrate position, that it was with some difficulty it managed to get to its feet; and, after doing so, its efforts to escape were feeble, and easily defeated.
At each attempt to turn to one side, its head was instantly hauled to the other, and it soon discovered that it was no less a captive on its feet than when fast confined in the recumbent attitude.
Finding its struggles ineffectual, it soon discontinued them, and resigned itself to the will of its captors.
Mounting their horses, Arend and Hendrik held the poles by which the giraffe was to be guided, while Willem and Congo walked on behind. In this manner the captive was conducted towards the camp.
More than once during their journey Willem reiterated the reproach already made to his companions. If they had only shown as much energy and determination as he had done, they might now have been ready to take the road for Graaf Reinet, with a triumphant prospect before them.
“I would have followed this giraffe,” said he, “until my horse dropped dead, and then I would have followed it on foot until it became mine. I had determined not to be defeated and survive the defeat. Ah! had any of you three shown a particle of the same resolution, we might have abandoned our cattle with pleasure, and started on a straight line for home by daybreak to-morrow morning.”
Arend and Hendrik allowed the elated hunter to continue his reproaches uninterrupted. They were quite satisfied with their own conduct; and each had the delicacy to refrain from telling Willem, that, without their assistance, his capture of the young giraffe would only have resulted in the misfortune of losing his horse, and suffering many other inconveniences.
They knew that Willem, when free from the intoxication caused by the partial fulfilment of a long-cherished design, would not claim any greater share in the credit of the expedition than he was really entitled to. Moreover, his joy at having captured the giraffe was somewhat damped by the fear that his horse had gone off for good.
He was confident that, should he again get possession of him, another giraffe could be taken. With the herd that had been hunted, he had seen two other young ones. They might be found a second time; but there would be a difficulty in running them down, unless he was once more on the back of his tried steed.
By noon the camp was reached, when about the first thing that came under the eyes of Groot Willem was a young giraffe standing tied to a tree! Beside it was his own horse!
The horse had been brought back by the Makololo, who found him straying over the plain as they were themselves returning to the camp. The presence both of the horse and the Makololo was at once explained. Their original intention to visit the country of the white men had been abandoned by them on account of the loss of their cattle. Without these, they had no means of making the long journey that still lay before them. There seemed nothing for them but to go back to their home to Macora. But they were unwilling to set off without taking leave of their late travelling-companions; and, as they were at the same time afraid of being blamed for the loss of the white hunters’ cattle, as well as their own, they passed the night in great distress, uncertain as to what they should do. Just as morning dawned, they descried Willem’s horse grazing close to the spot where they were encamped. They had last seen the great hunter on this horse’s back, going in pursuit of the giraffes; and they were anxious to learn why the animal was now separated from its rider. They knew that it was greatly prized by its owner, and they believed that, by taking it back to him, they would be forgiven for their neglect.
In this, they were not mistaken. About the other animal—the young giraffe that stood tied to a tree—Groot Willem neither asked nor received any explanation. He held his tongue about that. He had been over thirty hours without tasting food, and now without uttering another word, he set to work upon a dinner that Swartboy had cooked for him, and, after showing that his discomfiture had not robbed him of his appetite, he stretched himself along the grass and fell into a sound sleep.
The hunters had now but one more task to perform before taking the direct route towards Graaf Reinet. They must make an effort to recover the horses and cattle of which they had been despoiled. The sooner this work should be commenced, the better the prospect of success; but Groot Willem, on being awakened and consulted, declared that he would do nothing but sleep for the next twelve hours; and, saying this, he once more sank into a snoring slumber. As the others could take no important step without him, they were compelled to leave the matter over, till such time as the great hunter should awake, which was not before breakfast-time of the following day.
Chapter Fifty Eight.The Lost are found.After breakfast had been eaten, it was proposed to start off in search of the stolen property; and Groot Willem, not without reluctance, was prevailed upon to accompany the others. He was loath to part even for a few hours from the captives he prized so highly. His wildest dreams had been realised. Two young giraffes had been taken and were gradually getting tamed. He could caress them. They could be conducted with but little trouble to the colony of Graaf Reinet,—thence delivered to the Dutch consul, and both money and fame would be the reward.Since returning to the camp and seeing the second giraffe, his companions had heard no more boasting about his own prowess, nor reproaches for their negligence. But now came the question of the ivory and other articles still lying in the camp. With such a large quantity of valuable property to transport to the settlements, the pack-horses and cattle were worth making an effort to recover; so, leaving Hans with Swartboy and two of the Makololo to guard the camp, the others started off with the intention to seek and, if possible, find them.Believing that the tribe of Bechuanas that had taken them would be found living somewhere near a stream of water, they resolved to first proceed down the river on which they had their camp; and in this direction they set off.For the first five miles nothing could be seen of the spoor of either horses or cattle. But the ground was hard and dry, and, even if cattle had been driven over it, it would have been impossible to take up their spoor. It had rained heavily, and that would do something to obliterate any tracks that might have been made. Soon they came to a place where the river-bank was low and marshy, and this they examined with care. They saw the hoof-marks of many animals that had quenched their thirst at the stream, all plainly impressed upon the soft earth. To their joy they perceived amongst them the tracks of horses and cattle, and easily recognised them as those of the animals they had lost. Beyond doubt they had been driven over the river at that point. Pleased at such a good beginning, they continued on, more hopefully. They were now sure that they had come in the right direction. The spoor still led down the bunks of the stream. Three or four miles farther on, they came within sight of a kraal, containing about forty huts. As they drew near, several men ran forward to meet them, and instantly demanded their business.Swartboy informed them that they were looking after some stolen horses and cattle.A tall, naked man, carrying a huge parasol of ostrich-feathers, acted as spokesman for the villagers. In reply to Swartboy, he stated that he knew what cattle were; that he had often seen such animals, butnot lately. He had never seen any horses and knew not what sort of animals they were. As it chanced, the rain that had fallen upon the preceding night had so softened the ground that all footmarks made since could be distinguished without the slightest difficulty. It was evident the man with the parasol had not thought of this; for our adventurers at once saw that he was telling them a story. They had proofs that he was, by the sight of several horse-tracks with which the ground was indented around the spot where they had halted. They were so fresh as to show that horses must have been there but an hour ago; and it was not likely they could have been on that ground without being seen by the villagers and their chief.Without saying another word to the natives, our party preceded on to the kraal. As they drew near, the first thing that fixed their attention was the skin of an ox freshly taken from the carcass, and hanging upon one of the huts. Swartboy, who was an acute observer, at once pronounced the hide to have belonged to one of the oxen he had lately assisted in driving; and the two Makololo were of the same opinion. They pointed out to the white hunters the marks of their own pack-saddle. None of the villagers who stood around could give any explanation of the presence of the hide. None of them had ever seen it before; and the features of all were painfully distorted into expressions of astonishment when it was shown them.Passing out from the kraal the white hunters rode off over a plain that stretched northward. They did so because they saw something there that looked like a herd; and they conjectured it might turn out to belong to themselves. They were not astray. The herd consisted entirely of their own stolen animals. They were guarded only by some women and children, who fled wildly screaming at the approach of the white party.Riding up to the cattle, Groot Willem and Hendrik galloped on after the frightened women, who, by the efforts they were making to escape, plainly showed that they expected nothing short of being killed if overtaken.Too glad at recovering their property, the hunters had not the slightest desire to molest the helpless women, and yet, without intending it, they caused the death of one.As they galloped after the affrighted crowd, one of the women was seen to lag a little behind, and then fall suddenly to the earth. The two horsemen pulled up, and then turned in the direction of the woman who had fallen. On getting near, they noticed that dim, glassy appearance of the eyes that denotes death.Hendrik dismounted, and placed his hand over her heart. It had ceased to beat. There was no respiration. The woman was dead: she had been frightened to death.By her side was a child not more than a few months old. And yet it gazed upon Hendrik with eyes flashing defiance. Its animal instinct had not been subdued by the fear of man, and its whole appearance gave evidence of the truth of an assertion often made, that an African child, like a lion’s cub, is born with its mental faculties wonderfully developed.By this time the other women had gone far out of reach, and none of them could be recalled. Hendrik was not inclined to leave the child by the side of its dead mother. Undecided what to do, he appealed to Willem, who, by this, had come up.“We have frightened the soul out of this woman,” said he, as the great hunter drew near. “She has left a child behind her. What shall we do with it? It won’t do to leave the poor thing here.”“This is unfortunate, certainly,” said Willem; as he gazed at the dead body. “The blacks will think that we killed the woman, and will ever after have an opinion of white men they should not have. We must take the child to the kraal, and give it up to them. We can tell them that the woman died of her own folly, which is only the truth. Hand the piccaninny to me.”As Hendrik attempted to obey this request, the child by loud screams protested against being taken away from its mother. Its resistance was not alone confined to cries. Like a young tiger, it scratched and bit at the hands that held it; thus exhibiting a strange contrast to the conduct of its adult kindred, the Bechuanas, who have an instinctive fear of white men as well as a distaste for hostilities in any way.Holding the young black under one arm, Willem galloped after the cattle, that, with the aid of the others, in less than an hour, were driven up to the kraal. The only one missing was the ox whose hide had been seen upon the hut. The child was delivered over to the chief. Swartboy explained to him the circumstances under which it had been found; and at Willem’s request advised the Bechuanas never again to molest the property of other people. To the surprise of our adventurers, not only the chief but several of his elders loudly declared that they knew nothing whatever of the cattle, or the women found in charge of them; but, while they were thus talking, the two Makololo pointed out the men who were loudest in declaring their ignorance, as the very ones who had driven the animals away!To escape from the discordant clamour of their tongues, the hunters turned hastily away, taking their cattle along with them.Hendrik and Arend felt some inclination to punish the blacks for their treachery, as well as the loss of time and the trouble they had occasioned. This, however, was forbidden by the great-hearted Willem, who could no more blame the natives for what they had done than the bird that picks up a worm upon its path.“These poor creatures,” said he, “know no better. They have never been taught the precepts of religion; and to them right and wrong are almost the same thing. Leave them to learn a lesson from our mercy.”
After breakfast had been eaten, it was proposed to start off in search of the stolen property; and Groot Willem, not without reluctance, was prevailed upon to accompany the others. He was loath to part even for a few hours from the captives he prized so highly. His wildest dreams had been realised. Two young giraffes had been taken and were gradually getting tamed. He could caress them. They could be conducted with but little trouble to the colony of Graaf Reinet,—thence delivered to the Dutch consul, and both money and fame would be the reward.
Since returning to the camp and seeing the second giraffe, his companions had heard no more boasting about his own prowess, nor reproaches for their negligence. But now came the question of the ivory and other articles still lying in the camp. With such a large quantity of valuable property to transport to the settlements, the pack-horses and cattle were worth making an effort to recover; so, leaving Hans with Swartboy and two of the Makololo to guard the camp, the others started off with the intention to seek and, if possible, find them.
Believing that the tribe of Bechuanas that had taken them would be found living somewhere near a stream of water, they resolved to first proceed down the river on which they had their camp; and in this direction they set off.
For the first five miles nothing could be seen of the spoor of either horses or cattle. But the ground was hard and dry, and, even if cattle had been driven over it, it would have been impossible to take up their spoor. It had rained heavily, and that would do something to obliterate any tracks that might have been made. Soon they came to a place where the river-bank was low and marshy, and this they examined with care. They saw the hoof-marks of many animals that had quenched their thirst at the stream, all plainly impressed upon the soft earth. To their joy they perceived amongst them the tracks of horses and cattle, and easily recognised them as those of the animals they had lost. Beyond doubt they had been driven over the river at that point. Pleased at such a good beginning, they continued on, more hopefully. They were now sure that they had come in the right direction. The spoor still led down the bunks of the stream. Three or four miles farther on, they came within sight of a kraal, containing about forty huts. As they drew near, several men ran forward to meet them, and instantly demanded their business.
Swartboy informed them that they were looking after some stolen horses and cattle.
A tall, naked man, carrying a huge parasol of ostrich-feathers, acted as spokesman for the villagers. In reply to Swartboy, he stated that he knew what cattle were; that he had often seen such animals, butnot lately. He had never seen any horses and knew not what sort of animals they were. As it chanced, the rain that had fallen upon the preceding night had so softened the ground that all footmarks made since could be distinguished without the slightest difficulty. It was evident the man with the parasol had not thought of this; for our adventurers at once saw that he was telling them a story. They had proofs that he was, by the sight of several horse-tracks with which the ground was indented around the spot where they had halted. They were so fresh as to show that horses must have been there but an hour ago; and it was not likely they could have been on that ground without being seen by the villagers and their chief.
Without saying another word to the natives, our party preceded on to the kraal. As they drew near, the first thing that fixed their attention was the skin of an ox freshly taken from the carcass, and hanging upon one of the huts. Swartboy, who was an acute observer, at once pronounced the hide to have belonged to one of the oxen he had lately assisted in driving; and the two Makololo were of the same opinion. They pointed out to the white hunters the marks of their own pack-saddle. None of the villagers who stood around could give any explanation of the presence of the hide. None of them had ever seen it before; and the features of all were painfully distorted into expressions of astonishment when it was shown them.
Passing out from the kraal the white hunters rode off over a plain that stretched northward. They did so because they saw something there that looked like a herd; and they conjectured it might turn out to belong to themselves. They were not astray. The herd consisted entirely of their own stolen animals. They were guarded only by some women and children, who fled wildly screaming at the approach of the white party.
Riding up to the cattle, Groot Willem and Hendrik galloped on after the frightened women, who, by the efforts they were making to escape, plainly showed that they expected nothing short of being killed if overtaken.
Too glad at recovering their property, the hunters had not the slightest desire to molest the helpless women, and yet, without intending it, they caused the death of one.
As they galloped after the affrighted crowd, one of the women was seen to lag a little behind, and then fall suddenly to the earth. The two horsemen pulled up, and then turned in the direction of the woman who had fallen. On getting near, they noticed that dim, glassy appearance of the eyes that denotes death.
Hendrik dismounted, and placed his hand over her heart. It had ceased to beat. There was no respiration. The woman was dead: she had been frightened to death.
By her side was a child not more than a few months old. And yet it gazed upon Hendrik with eyes flashing defiance. Its animal instinct had not been subdued by the fear of man, and its whole appearance gave evidence of the truth of an assertion often made, that an African child, like a lion’s cub, is born with its mental faculties wonderfully developed.
By this time the other women had gone far out of reach, and none of them could be recalled. Hendrik was not inclined to leave the child by the side of its dead mother. Undecided what to do, he appealed to Willem, who, by this, had come up.
“We have frightened the soul out of this woman,” said he, as the great hunter drew near. “She has left a child behind her. What shall we do with it? It won’t do to leave the poor thing here.”
“This is unfortunate, certainly,” said Willem; as he gazed at the dead body. “The blacks will think that we killed the woman, and will ever after have an opinion of white men they should not have. We must take the child to the kraal, and give it up to them. We can tell them that the woman died of her own folly, which is only the truth. Hand the piccaninny to me.”
As Hendrik attempted to obey this request, the child by loud screams protested against being taken away from its mother. Its resistance was not alone confined to cries. Like a young tiger, it scratched and bit at the hands that held it; thus exhibiting a strange contrast to the conduct of its adult kindred, the Bechuanas, who have an instinctive fear of white men as well as a distaste for hostilities in any way.
Holding the young black under one arm, Willem galloped after the cattle, that, with the aid of the others, in less than an hour, were driven up to the kraal. The only one missing was the ox whose hide had been seen upon the hut. The child was delivered over to the chief. Swartboy explained to him the circumstances under which it had been found; and at Willem’s request advised the Bechuanas never again to molest the property of other people. To the surprise of our adventurers, not only the chief but several of his elders loudly declared that they knew nothing whatever of the cattle, or the women found in charge of them; but, while they were thus talking, the two Makololo pointed out the men who were loudest in declaring their ignorance, as the very ones who had driven the animals away!
To escape from the discordant clamour of their tongues, the hunters turned hastily away, taking their cattle along with them.
Hendrik and Arend felt some inclination to punish the blacks for their treachery, as well as the loss of time and the trouble they had occasioned. This, however, was forbidden by the great-hearted Willem, who could no more blame the natives for what they had done than the bird that picks up a worm upon its path.
“These poor creatures,” said he, “know no better. They have never been taught the precepts of religion; and to them right and wrong are almost the same thing. Leave them to learn a lesson from our mercy.”