Off to the Wilds Part 32

As Dinny said, there it was again; and certainly the noise was terrible and awe-inspiring, heard in the stillness of the night by the crackling of the great fire, whose glow lit up waggon and trees around in a strange way, casting grotesque shadows behind.

"Well, it's ever so far-off; and I don't know what it is. Perhaps it's an elephant," said Jack.

"An illephant!" said Dinny, in tones of disgust; "jist as if an illephant ever made a noise like that! Why, it's a lion, Masther Jack."

"Nonsense, Dinny! Lions don't make a noise like that."

"Shure, an' arn't we close to the river, where it's mortial damp?"

"To be sure we are; but it isn't damp here, Dinny."

"Shure, but it is!" cried Dinny. "There's a hoa.r.s.e roar for ye!"

The peculiar noise came again, and was repeated from a distance, and again in the other direction.

"That's no lion, Dinny," said Jack.

"Not a lion? Bedad, and I'd bet me head that it is, and a lion that's hoa.r.s.e wid a horrid bad cowld--jist the same as meself, and a sore throat in the bargain, after that wet night we had the other day."

"No, that can't be a lion," said Jack again. "Hulloa! who's there?"

The _click_-_click_ of Jack's gun was heard as a dark form was seen approaching. But the familiar voice of Mr Rogers made the boy lower his piece.

"I thought I'd come and have a look at you, my boy," said Mr Rogers.

"Do you hear the hippopotamus?"

"Shure, no, sor; but there's a great big lion wid a terrible cowld, roaring away for his mate; and I'd thank ye kindly if ye'd shute him at once. There he goes, sor!"

"That's not a lion, Dinny. That's a hippopotamus," replied Mr Rogers, smiling.

"Shure, an' if he can roar like that, he'll be worse than a lion, sor,"

said Dinny, "so hadn't ye betther shute at once?"

"Dinny doesn't want you to shoot at the hippopotamus, father," said Jack, laughing. "He wants you to shoot at shadows!"

Mr Rogers laughed, and after staying a little while by the fire, listening to the distant noises of the huge amphibious animals that abounded in the great stream, he quietly went back to the waggon.

The departure of his master was the signal for the renewal of Dinny's fears, which he showed in a very peculiar way.

Jack had just thrown a few more pieces of wood upon the fire, which blazed up directly; and then, taking his place again, he was making himself comfortable, when there was a tremendous hollow roar, made by a hippopotamus, apparently pretty close to them.

Dinny immediately shifted his position, getting close up to Jack, who did not say anything, but feeling uncomfortably warm dodged a little farther off.

That was of no avail, for Dinny followed him, getting closer still, with the result that in the course of the next hour Jack was driven right round the fire; and he was just about to commence a second tour when the General came, with d.i.c.k, to relieve the watch, and Jack went off to bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN.

MARKED DOWN BY VULTURES.

They were still many miles from King Moseti's town, and the larder being again low, consequent upon the impossibility of keeping meat, a hunting-party was inst.i.tuted, and Mr Rogers was about to go off with the boys; but on second thoughts, as they had been seen by the people on the river, no doubt the news of their coming was known all through the country, and it was possible that some of the natives might come down.

This he felt would be unsatisfactory if he was away, so he decided to stop; and then feeling that it would be better to have some trustworthy man to help guard the waggon, and not feeling that either Dinny, Peter, or Dirk, was that man, he decided to tell the General to stay.

So the hunting-party consisted of the four boys, who were warned not to go too far, but to be sure and get something in the shape of meat as soon as they could.

They went off in high glee, Coffee being delighted to be able to take his place in the party; and nothing would do but he must perform all sorts of feats, to show how strong he had grown once more.

Acting upon Mr Rogers' advice, they made straight for the high, open, park-like land, about a couple of miles south of the river; and here Coffee soon showed his talent as a tracker, by pointing out some footprints in a patch of soft earth and mud close to a clear pool of water.

"Lion!" he said, pointing to the great round impression: and he spat and stamped, and then struck the ground fiercely with his kiri.

"Elfant!" cried Chicory just then; and his discovery so far transcended his brother's, that there was a rush to see the huge round footprint, that looked as if some one had been standing portmanteaus on end all over the bog, and leaving their impressions there.

Then there were buffalo tracks, and the footprints of innumerable other beasts that had been to drink, or else gone on, making a complete roadway in the direction of the big river.

Just then Coffee pulled Jack's sleeve and pointed to quite a freshly-made series of footprints.

"Why, that's some kind of antelope," cried Jack.

"Yes, big bok--eland," cried Coffee. "Come along."

This was as good as saying that the animal had lately been there to drink: and in fact its tracks looked surprisingly fresh, so much so that the boys, after glancing at their guns, followed Coffee as he trotted on ahead with his eyes fixed upon the footprints, which were here and there so clearly-marked in the soft earth that he followed them at a run.

Knowing what he did of the habits of animals, and that the great antelope might be many miles away by this time, d.i.c.k was about to protest against such an exercise of speed, feeling that a slow and sure progress would be the safest: but Coffee proved to be right, for before they had gone half-a-mile, he slopped short and made signs to the others to close up.

They were in a wooded tract of land sprinkled with bushes and fine timber trees; and as the boys came up, there, about a hundred yards in front, was a magnificent eland, and so great was the surprise of both as they saw the size of the animal, equal in bulk as it was to an ox, only longer and more gracefully-shaped, that they forbore to fire; when the great antelope, catching sight of them, went off at full speed, and they had to renew the chase.

Quite an hour elapsed before a sign from Coffee announced that he could once more see the game.

This time both d.i.c.k and Jack were more upon the alert; and creeping cautiously up through the bushes, they caught sight of the eland grazing, just at the edge of a patch of forest about a hundred and fifty yards away.

This they felt was a long shot at so large an animal; but it was impossible to get nearer on account of the intervening open ground; so kneeling together they took careful aim at the shoulder, and fired almost simultaneously.

"Hit," cried Jack, as he jumped up and ran forward beyond the reach of the smoke; but there was no eland lying in its tracks; and as the Zulu boys came up, they made out that it had dashed through a patch of dense growth, and there its footprints were lost in a broad trail made by thousands of animals on their way to and from the river.

Both Coffee and Chicory exerted themselves to the utmost; but their efforts were in vain, and at last they turned to d.i.c.k shaking their heads.

"No good gun," said Coffee. "Ought to shoot um dead."

"It's a bad job," said Jack; "but it's of no use to grumble. Come, boys, we must hunt out something else."

"I wish we had brought the dogs, Jack," said d.i.c.k.

"Coffee find him soon--that way."

He pointed with an exultant look in his face at a great flap-winged vulture flying directly over his head, and for a moment both Jack and d.i.c.k were puzzled; but seeing the boys both set off at a run, they followed, recalling as they went what they had seen and heard about the vultures tracking the wounded or sickly game, and it was evident that the bird they had seen was on the track of the wounded eland.