Off to the Wilds: Being the Adventures of Two Brothers
Page 7
CHAPTER SEVEN.
HOW THE BOYS FOUND IT WAS NOT EASY TO SHOOT.
The oxen were in-spanned and the horses saddled, on as glorious amorning as ever shone over the great African continent. The breakfastthings had been stowed away, a glance given round to see that nothinghad been left behind; the driver's and foreloper's whips cracked; andwith loud shouts of, "Trek, boys, trek!" the great waggon slowly went onits course, every one forgetting the troubles of the disturbed night, inthe 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 oftheir young masters, while their father ran beside Mr Rogers' big bay.Above all, the dogs showed their delight by barking, yelping, and makinginsane charges here and there, Rough'un's great delight being to run hishead into one or other of the holes made by the burrowing animals of theplains, and then worrying and snapping at nothing until he was calledaway.
As the waggon lumbered on, father and sons wandered off to left orright, exploring, examining the trees and strange plants, and sometimesbringing down some bright-plumaged bird, which was carefully laid in atin case carried for the purpose by the Zulu, ready to be skinned anddressed to keep as a specimen on their return.
That they were approaching the game country was now hourly becomingplainer, for from time to time little knots of bok could be seen uponthe hills; but when Dick or Jack eagerly drew the attention of the Zuluto 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 tobe?"
"Let it be Jack, father," said Dick, quietly; "my hands are not steadyyet."
"Very good," said Mr Rogers; while the Zulu listened attentively,trying to comprehend every word. "Now then, Jack, how shall you go towork? There is a little herd of half-a-dozen springbok there, on thathill, 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 youwill find a better plan. Have a few cartridges handy, so that you canload quickly, and then gallop easily towards the herd, which will beginplaying about, till they grow too alarmed to let you get nearer, andthen they'll bound off. This is your time: gallop up as close as youcan, and when you see they are about to go, leap from your horse andfire--reload, and fire again. If you are very quick you may get threeshots 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 havefailed."
Jack nodded, opened the breech of his gun, placed half-a-dozencartridges ready, leaped down to tighten the girths of his saddle, thecob standing perfectly still. Then mounting once more, he waved hishand, touched his horse's sides with his heels, and away it went likethe 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 hisside 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 calculatehow far they should be able to get before having to dismount, when allat 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 onthe hard sandy earth, confused and puzzled, with Chicory trying to pullhim up; and Stockings standing close by, snorting and shivering withfear.
Jack got up, and limped to where his rifle lay, feeling stupid, andwondering how it was that he had been thrown; and he had but regainedhis piece, and was ruefully examining it, when his father and Dick camegalloping up.
"Much hurt, my boy?" cried Mr Rogers, eagerly.
"Only my leg and arm a little," said Jack, rubbing first one and thenthe 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 howit was?"
"I know Stockings threw me," replied Jack.
"Threw you? Nonsense, boy! He set his fore feet in an ant-bear hole,and turned a complete somersault. We were afraid that he had rolledupon you."
"Then a good rider couldn't have helped it, father?"
"Helped it? No, my boy."
"Oh, I feel better now," said Jack, laughing; and, limping up to hishorse, he patted its neck and remounted, though not without difficulty."Where's the bok, Chicory?"
Chicory pointed to where they were, nearly a mile away, and lookingexceedingly small, but quite clear in the bright African atmosphere; andwithout a word he set off again.
"Ought he to go, father?" said Dick.
"Yes, my boy. He is not much hurt, and it will be a lesson to both himand his horse. I am glad to see that he has so much spirit."
A short chuckle close by made Mr Rogers turn his head, and he saw thatthe Zulu understood his words, and was smiling approval.
"Brave boy! Make big hunter warrior, some day," said the Zulu.
"Boss Dick big brave hunter too," cried Coffee indignantly, as he wentand laid a hand upon the neck of Dick's horse. "Boss Dick go shootbok?"
"Not now, Coffee," replied Dick, smiling; and then the little groupremained watching Jack, who was in full chase of the springbok, which,as he came nearer, began to skip and bound and gambol together, leapingover each other's backs, but all the time watching the coming enemy.
It was an exciting time for Jack, and in it he forgot the pain in hisshoulder and the stiffness of his leg. He had the rifle-barrel readycocked, and his feet out of the stirrups, and at last, when he hadgalloped up to within a couple of hundred yards, he saw such evidentpreparations for flight on the part of the little bok, that he leapeddown, dropped upon one knee, and fired straight at the flying herd.
Before the smoke had risen he had another cartridge in the rifle, andfired again. Once more he threw open the breech and loaded--and fired,though by this time the bok were seven or eight hundred yards away. Butin spite of the care in the aim taken, no bok fell struggling to theground, and Jack rode back slowly to join his father, wondering whetherthe bore of his rifle was true, for he knew, he said to himself, that hehad aimed straight.
When he hinted at the possibility of the rifle being in fault, hisfather smiled, and Dick gave him so comical a look that Jack said nomore, but rode on silently by the side of the waggon, till, seeing hisdisappointment, his father joined him.
"Why, you foolish boy," he exclaimed, "it was not likely that you wouldhit one of those flying bok. It is a matter of long practice; and eventhe Boers, who have studied such shooting for years, often miss."
"But you see, father, I did make such a dreadful mess of it," pleadedJack. "I came off my horse; and then I shot over and over again, andmissed. I can't help feeling what a muddle I made."
"Well, for my part," said his father, "I am rather glad that you failed.If you had succeeded, my boy, without effort at the first trial, itwould have made you careless. These failures will teach you thenecessity for using care, and trying to perfect yourself as a marksman."
"But there'll be no bok for dinner," said Jack ruefully.
"Never mind," replied Mr Rogers. "I daresay the boys will bring insomething."
He was right, for Coffee and Chicory brought in six great plainpartridges, which they had knocked down with their kiris, and these wereroasted at the midday meal, and eaten with the appetite found in thedesert.
As the day wore on, and after the refreshed oxen were once more doingtheir duty, the effects of the last night's scare began to show itself,Peter, Dirk, and Dinny declaring that they had seen lions creeping afterthe waggon in the distance, ready to pounce upon the oxen as soon as itwas dark.
Dirk reported this to Mr Rogers, who
gave them all a good, talking toabout their cowardice.
"Why, look at these Zulu boys," he cried; "they don't show any fear,while you grown men are almost as bad as children."
"Sure, sor, an' the Zulu boys don't know any better," said Dinny."They're little better than the bastes themselves."
"Well, there are my own boys," exclaimed Mr Rogers. "They are notafraid. I wonder at you, Dinny, an Irishman, and to set such a badexample to these blacks."
"And is it afraid?" said Dinny. "Not a bit of it. I'm not a bit afraidat all; but I can't help thinking of what my poor mother's feelingswould be if she came to know that her only son Dennis had been aiten upby wild bastes. I don't mind a bit, but I wouldn't hurt her feelingsfor the world."
"Then oblige me, Dinny, by holding your tongue, for if I hear any morecomplaints I shall send you back."
"Sind me back!" ejaculated Dinny, as soon as his master had gone. "Sindme back across the big desert all alone by meself. Why, it would beworse than murther. It's meself wishes I hadn't come."
Whatever he may have wished, these sharp words had the effect ofsilencing Dinny for the time being; but when the Zulu had led them atlast, just at sundown, into a dense patch of forest, where theoverhanging trees made the gloom quite oppressive, Dinny's eyes showedwhite circles round them; and if it had not been for the fact that theyfound a Boer and his family encamped by the water they had been seeking,the Irishman would have probably turned, and at all risks have fled.
People are ready enough to make friends out in the desert, and the Boergladly offered the use of the fire he had made, and a part of thespringbok he had shot, on receiving a share of some of the good thingsbrought by the newcomers. Then, with the great camp-kettle simmeringover the fire, and with the boys patiently waiting for their share ofthe provisions, guns were cleaned and laid ready for use, the men thewhile busily attending to the oxen and horses, while the Zulu and hisboys collected wood into a pile to keep up the fire.
"Sure an' it's a dreadful melancholy-looking place," said Dinny with ashudder. And then he listened attentively while the Boer expressed hisbelief that there were lions in the neighbourhood, though they were notoften seen.