by Mayne Reid
CHAPTER XXII.
STALKING THE OUREBI.
Next morning the hyenas and jackals had disappeared from the scene, and,to the surprise of all, not a particle of flesh was left upon the bonesof the elephant. There lay the huge skeleton picked clean, the boneseven polished white by the rough tongues of the hyenas. Nay, stillstranger to relate, two of the horses--these poor brutes had been longsince left to themselves,--had been pulled down during the night, andtheir skeletons lay at a short distance from the camp as cleanly pickedas that of the elephant!
All this was evidence of the great number of ravenous creatures thatmust have their home in that quarter,--evidence, too, that game animalsabounded, for where these are not numerous the beasts of prey cannotexist. Indeed, from the quantity of tracks that were seen upon theshores of the vley, it was evident that animals of various kinds haddrunk there during the night. There was the round solid hoof of thequagga, and his near congener the dauw; and there was the neat hoofprintof the gemsbok, and the larger track of the eland; and among these VonBloom did not fail to notice the spoor of the dreaded lion. Althoughthey had not heard his roaring that night, they had no doubt that therewere plenty of his kind in that part of the country. The presence of hisfavourite prey,--the quaggas, the gemsboks, and the elands,--were sureindications that the king of beasts was not far off.
Not much work was done that day. The heavy labour of curing thebiltongue, that had occupied them the whole of the preceding day, andtheir disturbed rest, had rendered them all listless; and neither VonBloom nor the others had any inclination for work. So they moved aroundthe camp and did very little.
Swartboy took his elephant's feet from the oven, and cleaned them; andalso let down the biltongue and arranged it so as to be better exposedto the sun. Von Bloom himself shot the three remaining horses, havingdriven them to a good distance from the camp. He did this to put an endto the suffering of the poor brutes,--for it was plain to every one thatthey could survive but a day or two longer; and to send a bullet throughthe heart of each was an act of mercy to them.
Out of all the live stock of the field-cornet, the cow alone remained,and she was now tended with the greatest care. Without the preciousmilk, which she yielded in such quantity, their diet would have beensavage enough; and they fully appreciated the service she rendered them.Each day she was driven out to the best pasture, and at night shut up ina safe kraal of wait-a-bit thorns, that had been built for her at alittle distance from the tree. These thorns had been placed in such amanner that their shanks all radiated inward, while the bushy tops wereturned out, forming a _chevaux-de-frise_, that scarce any animal wouldhave attempted to get through. Such a fence will turn even the lion,unless when he has been rendered fierce and reckless by provocation.
Of course a gap had been left for the cow to pass in and out, and thiswas closed by one immense bush, which served all the purpose of a gate.Such was the kraal of "old Graaf." Besides the cow, the only livingthing that remained in camp was Trueey's little pet, the fawn of thegazelle.
But on that very day another pet was added, a dear little creature, notless beautiful than the springbok, and of still more diminutiveproportions. That was the fawn of an "ourebi,"--one of the elegantlittle antelopes that are found in such variety over the plains and inthe "bush" of Southern Africa.
It was to Hendrik they were indebted not only for this pet, but for adinner of delicate venison, which they had that day eaten, and which allof them, except Swartboy, preferred to elephant beef. Hendrik hadprocured the venison by a shot from his rifle, and in the followingmanner.
About mid-day he went out--having fancied that upon a large grassymeadow near the camp he saw some animal. After walking abouthalf-a-mile, and keeping among bushes, around the edge of the meadow, hegot near enough to be sure that it was an animal he had observed,--forhe now saw two in the place he had marked.
They were of a kind he had not met with before. They were very smallcreatures,--smaller even than springboks,--but, from their general formand appearance, Hendrik knew they were either antelopes or deer; and, asHans had told him there were no deer in Southern Africa, he concludedthey must be some species of antelope. They were a buck and doe,--thishe knew because one of them only carried horns. The buck was under twofeet in height, of slender make, and pale tawny colour. He waswhite-bellied, with white arches above the eyes, and some long whitehair under the throat. Below his knees were yellowish tufts of longhair; and his horns--instead of being lyrate, like those of thespringbok--rose nearly vertical to the height of four inches. They wereblack in colour, round-shaped, and slightly ringed. The doe was withouthorns, and was a much smaller animal than her mate.
From all these marks Hendrik thought the little antelopes were"ourebis;" and such they were.
He continued to stalk in upon them, until he was as close as he couldget. But he was still more than two hundred yards from them, and ofcourse far from being within shooting distance with his small rifle.
A thick _jong dora_ bush concealed him, but he dared not go farther elsethe game would have taken the alarm. He could perceive that they wereshy creatures.
Every now and again the buck would raise his graceful neck to its fullstretch, utter a slight bleating call, and look suspiciously around him.From these symptoms Hendrik drew the inference that it was shy game, andwould not be easily approached.
He lay for a moment, thinking what he should do. He was to leeward ofthe game, as he had purposely gone there; but after a while, to hischagrin, he saw that they were feeding up the wind, and of coursewidening the distance between them and himself.
It occurred to Hendrik that it might be their habit to browse up thewind, as springboks and some other species do. If so, he might as wellgive it up, or else make a long circuit and head them. To do this wouldbe a work of labour and of time, and a very uncertain stalk it would bein the end. After all his long tramping, and creeping, and crouching,the game would be like enough to scent him before they came withinshot--for it is for this very reason that their instinct teaches them tobrowse against, and not with the wind.
As the plain was large, and the cover very distant, Hendrik wasdiscouraged and gave up the design he had half formed of trying to headthem.
He was about to rise to his feet, and return home, when it occurred tohim that perhaps he might find a decoy available. He knew there wereseveral species of antelopes, with whom curiosity was stronger thanfear. He had often lured the springbok within reach. Why would not theseobey the same impulse?
He determined to make trial. At the worst he could only fail, and he hadno chance of getting a shot otherwise.
Without losing a moment he thrust his hand into his pocket. He shouldhave found there a large red handkerchief, which he had more than onceused for a similar purpose. To his chagrin it was not there!
He dived into both pockets of his jacket, then into his wide trousers,then under the breast of his waistcoat. No. The handkerchief was not tobe found. Alas! it had been left in the wagon! It was very annoying.
What else could he make use of? Take off his jacket and hold it up? Itwas not gay enough in colour. It would not do.
Should he raise his hat upon the end of his gun? That might be better,but still it would look too much like the human form, and Hendrik knewthat all animals feared that.
A happy thought at length occurred to him. He had heard, that with thecurious antelopes, strange forms or movements attract almost as much asglaring colours. He remembered a trick that was said to be practisedwith success by the hunters. It was easy enough, and consisted merely inthe hunter standing upon his hands and head, and kicking his heels inthe air!
Now Hendrik happened to be one of those very boys who had oftenpractised this little bit of gymnastics for amusement and he could standupon his head like an acrobat.
Without losing a moment he placed his rifle upon the ground, between hishands, and hoisting his feet into the air, commenced kicking them about,clinking them together, and crossing them in the most fa
ntastic manner.
He had placed himself so that his face was turned towards the animals,while he stood upon his head. Of course he could not see them while inthis position, as the grass was a foot high; but, at intervals, hepermitted his feet to descend to the earth; and then, by looking betweenhis legs, he could tell how the ruse was succeeding.
It did succeed. The buck, on first perceiving the strange object,uttered a sharp whistle, and darted off with the swiftness of abird--for the "ourebi" is one of the swiftest of African antelopes. Thedoe followed, though not so fast, and soon fell into the rear.
The buck, perceiving this, suddenly halted--as if ashamed of his want ofgallantry--wheeled round, and galloped back, until he was once morebetween the doe and the odd thing that had alarmed him.
What could this odd thing be? he now seemed to inquire of himself. Itwas not a lion, nor a leopard, nor a hyena, nor yet a jackal. It wasneither fox, nor fennec, nor earth-wolf, nor wild hound, nor any of hiswell-known enemies. It was not a Bushman neither, for they are notdouble-headed as it appeared. What could it be? It had kept itsplace--it had not pursued him. Perhaps it was not at all dangerous. Nodoubt it was harmless enough.
So reasoned the ourebi. His curiosity overcame his fear. He would go alittle nearer. He would have a better view of the thing before he tookto flight. No matter what it was, it could do no hurt at that distance;and as to overtaking him, pah! there wasn't a creature, biped orquadruped in all Africa that he could not fling dust in the face of.
So he went a little nearer, and then a little nearer still, andcontinued to advance by successive runs, now this way and now that way,zigzagging over the plain, until he was within less than a hundred pacesof the odd object that at first sight had so terrified him.
HENDRIK DECOYING THE OUREBIS.]
His companion, the doe, kept close after him; and seemed quite ascurious as himself--her large shining eyes opened to their full extent,as she stopped to gaze at intervals.
Sometimes the two met each other in their course; and halted a moment,as though they held consultation in whispers; and asked each other ifthey had yet made out the character of the stranger.
It was evident, however, that neither had done so--as they stillcontinued to approach it with looks and gestures of inquiry and wonder.
At length the odd object disappeared for a moment under the grass; andthen reappeared--but this time in an altered form. Something about itglanced brightly under the sun, and this glancing quite fascinated thebuck, so that he could not stir from the spot, but stood eyeing itsteadily.
Fatal fascination! It was his last gaze. A bright flash shotup--something struck him through the heart, and he saw the shiningobject no more!
The doe bounded forward to where her mate had fallen, and stood bleatingover him. She knew not the cause of his sudden death, but she saw thathe was dead. The wound in his side--the stream of red blood--were underher eyes. She had never witnessed death in that form before, but sheknew her lover was dead. His silence--his form stretched along the grassmotionless and limber--his glassy eyes--all told her he had ceased tolive.
She would have fled, but she could not leave him--she could not bear topart even from his lifeless form. She would remain a while, and mournover him.
Her widowhood was a short one. Again flashed the priming,--again crackedthe shining tube--and the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of hermate.
The young hunter rose to his feet, and ran forward. He did not,according to usual custom, stop to load before approaching his quarry.The plain was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon it. Whatwas his surprise on reaching the antelopes, to perceive that there was athird one of the party still alive!
Yes, a little fawn, not taller than a rabbit, was bounding about throughthe grass, running around the prostrate body of its mother, and utteringits tiny bleat.
Hendrik was surprised, because he had not observed this creature before;but, indeed, he had not seen much of the antelopes until the moment oftaking aim, and the grass had concealed the tiny young one.
Hunter as Hendrik was, he could not help feeling strongly as he regardedthe _tableau_ before him. But he felt that he had not wantonly destroyedthese creatures for mere amusement, and that satisfied his conscience.
The little fawn would make a famous pet for Jan, who had often wishedfor one, to be equal with his sister. It could be fed upon the cow'smilk, and, though it had lost both father and mother, Hendrik resolvedthat it should be carefully brought up. He had no difficulty incapturing it, as it refused to leave the spot where its mother lay, andHendrik soon held the gentle creature in his arms.
He then tied the buck and doe together; and, having fastened a strongcord round the horns of the latter, he set off dragging the twoantelopes behind him.
As these lay upon the ground, heads foremost, they were drawn with thegrain of the hair, which made it much easier; and as there was nothingbut grass sward to be passed over, the young hunter succeeded in takingthe whole of his game to camp without any great difficulty.
The joy of all was great, at seeing such a fine lot of venison, butJan's rejoicing was greater than all; and he no longer envied Trueey thepossession of her little gazelle.