Off to the Wilds Part 6

In due time Jack was aroused, to sit up and stare at his father.

"What's matter?" he said sleepily.

"Nothing, only that it is your turn to watch," said his father.

"Why, I've only just lain down," replied Jack. "It can't be time yet."

But a good rub at his eyes seemed to bring a little thoughtfulness as well, and he climbed put of the waggon and descended to the ground.

"I don't think you will have anything to alarm you, my boy," said his father. "Wake me up though if there is the slightest sign of danger."

Jack promised, and, shivering and uncomfortable, he crept up to the fire, which the Zulu renewed; but though he roasted his face and knees, his back felt horribly cold, and he heartily wished himself at home, and in his snug bed. But the Zulu began to look round at the cattle, to satisfy himself that all were safe; and then seating himself with his a.s.segai across his knees close to the fire, he began to tell the young Englishman about the dangers that would have surrounded them if they had encamped here a few years earlier; and, then he lapsed into such vivid accounts of his own hunting adventures and escapes, that the four hours'

watch seemed to have pa.s.sed like magic, and Jack was ready to finish the next; but recalling the last injunctions he had received from his father, he went to the waggon, roused up d.i.c.k, and from under it Dinny and Coffee, and soon after left them to finish the morning watch.

Jack felt as if it would be of no use to try and sleep again; but knowing that their next day's journey would be very fatiguing, he lay down in his brother's place, found the blankets very warm and cosy, and then, with the sound of Dinny yawning loudly, he fell fast asleep. He seemed hardly to have closed his eyes, when a shout aroused him, just as he heard his father seize his double rifle, and go to the front of the waggon.

Jack did likewise, with as much speed as his sleepy confusion would allow; and on reaching the opening he found that it was still dark, so that he could not have been long asleep, the fire was burning brilliantly, and every one was on the alert.

"Yes, I seemed to hear it myself in my sleep," said Mr Rogers, in answer to some words spoken by d.i.c.k. "Did it sound near?"

"Sure, sor, it was close by, and I thought the bastes had got one of the bullocks."

The Zulu was with them now, having sprung from his place beneath the waggon, asking eagerly what was wrong.

"They heard a lion prowling round," replied Mr Rogers.

"No, no," said the Zulu. "No lion here."

"But I heard it quite plainly," said d.i.c.k, who felt angry at being doubted.

"Sure and I did too, so close to me shoulder that I could feel the baste's breath blow over on to me chake."

"No, no," said the Zulu. "Look! see!"

He pointed towards the oxen and horses in turn.

"But it would be impossible to see it in this darkness," said Mr Rogers.

"Yes, but the oxen," said the Zulu. "They would not lie quiet if there was a lion."

"Of course not," said Mr Rogers, envying the savage his knowledge.

"Then what caused the alarm?"

There was no reply; and after satisfying themselves that all was safe, and piling up the rest of the wood upon the fire--for the streaks of the coming dawn could be seen--the tired watchers returned to the waggon, and slept until roused for breakfast, when the secret of the alarm came out, Coffee having been afraid to confess at the time that he knew it was his brother imitating the lion's cry in his sleep, his proximity to d.i.c.k and Dinny making it seem the more real. Feeling sure that he would be punished if he spoke, Coffee had remained silent, and so the matter ended, d.i.c.k laughing heartily at the false alarm, though Dinny would not believe that the cry emanated from the boy.

"Jist as if I was such a biby as to belave that story, Masther Jack," he said. "I tell ye it was the lion himself attacking the bastes, and you'll see he'll be about the camp now every night, as regular as clockwork. It's very good of the masther to try and put one at his aise about the wild bastes; but that there was a lion--I know it was; and if, Masther Jack, dear, I'm missing some night, ye may know that there's a lion aiting of me; and I hope ye'll take me bones back and give me a dacent burying somewhere among Christians, and not lave them kicking about out here in a foreign land."

"But how can you be so stupid, Dinny? Father says it was Chicory, and you know how he imitates the wild beasts."

"Ah, do ye take me for a baby, Masther Jack?" said the man, reproachfully. "There, let it go. I'm your father's servant, and he must have his own way; but it's cruel work this coming out into such savage lands; and there's one man as will niver see home parts again."

When once Dinny had got an idea in his, head, to use his own words, "a shillelagh would not knock it out;" so he remained perfectly certain that the camp had been attacked by a lion; and he went about prophesying that the coming night would produce two.

CHAPTER SEVEN.

HOW THE BOYS FOUND IT WAS NOT EASY TO SHOOT.

The oxen were in-spanned and the horses saddled, on as glorious a morning as ever shone over the great African continent. The breakfast things had been stowed away, a glance given round to see that nothing had been left behind; the driver's and foreloper's whips cracked; and with loud shouts of, "Trek, boys, trek!" the great waggon slowly went on its course, every one forgetting the troubles of the disturbed night, in the glorious sunshine and dew-glittering herbage.

Coffee and Chicory ran and bounded and spun their kiris in the air, catching them again, and then running on beside the cantering horses of their young masters, while their father ran beside Mr Rogers' big bay.

Above all, the dogs showed their delight by barking, yelping, and making insane charges here and there, Rough'un's great delight being to run his head into one or other of the holes made by the burrowing animals of the plains, and then worrying and snapping at nothing until he was called away.

As the waggon lumbered on, father and sons wandered off to left or right, exploring, examining the trees and strange plants, and sometimes bringing down some bright-plumaged bird, which was carefully laid in a tin case carried for the purpose by the Zulu, ready to be skinned and dressed to keep as a specimen on their return.

That they were approaching the game country was now hourly becoming plainer, for from time to time little knots of bok could be seen upon the hills; but when d.i.c.k or Jack eagerly drew the attention of the Zulu to the fact, he laughed, and said it was nothing, bidding them to wait.

"We must have some venison for dinner to-day, boys," said Mr Rogers, cantering up; "so one of you had better try your rifle. Who's it to be?"

"Let it be Jack, father," said d.i.c.k, quietly; "my hands are not steady yet."

"Very good," said Mr Rogers; while the Zulu listened attentively, trying to comprehend every word. "Now then, Jack, how shall you go to work? There is a little herd of half-a-dozen springbok there, on that hill, nearly a mile away."

"Get close and shoot them," replied Jack, stoutly.

"Say, if you can, my boy," replied Mr Rogers, smiling. "Now look here, Jack, this is the way the Boers shoot springbok, and I don't think you will find a better plan. Have a few cartridges handy, so that you can load quickly, and then gallop easily towards the herd, which will begin playing about, till they grow too alarmed to let you get nearer, and then they'll bound off. This is your time: gallop up as close as you can, and when you see they are about to go, leap from your horse and fire--reload, and fire again. If you are very quick you may get three shots at the herd before they are out of range."

"But suppose I miss, father?" said Jack.

"Don't suppose anything of the kind, my boy," said Mr Rogers, smiling; "but go and do it. Time enough to consider failure when you have failed."

Jack nodded, opened the breech of his gun, placed half-a-dozen cartridges ready, leaped down to tighten the girths of his saddle, the cob standing perfectly still. Then mounting once more, he waved his hand, touched his horse's sides with his heels, and away it went like the wind.

As he started, Chicory, who seemed to have adopted him as his leader, made a bound at the saddle, caught hold of the pommel, and ran by his side with marvellous speed.

The springbok seemed to pay not the slightest heed to their approach, and Jack was beginning to feel excited with the chase, and to calculate how far they should be able to get before having to dismount, when all at once there was a sudden check; he went flying over his horse's head, his double barrel escaped from his hand, and he found himself lying on the hard sandy earth, confused and puzzled, with Chicory trying to pull him up; and Stockings standing close by, snorting and shivering with fear.

Jack got up, and limped to where his rifle lay, feeling stupid, and wondering how it was that he had been thrown; and he had but regained his piece, and was ruefully examining it, when his father and d.i.c.k came galloping up.

"Much hurt, my boy?" cried Mr Rogers, eagerly.

"Only my leg and arm a little," said Jack, rubbing first one and then the other; "but I did think I could ride better than that, father."

"Ride, my boy? Why, no one could have helped that. Don't you know how it was?"

"I know Stockings threw me," replied Jack.