[Illustration: Cover art]

[Frontispiece: HE SAW ME AND CHARGED. Page 29. Frontispiece.]

[Illustration: Title page]

  HUNTERS THREE

  SPORT AND ADVENTURE IN SOUTH AFRICA

  BY

  THOMAS W. KNOX

  AUTHOR OF "THE BOY TRAVELLERS," ETC.

  ILLUSTRATED BY WILLIAM M. CARY

  NEW YORK
  E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY
  31 WEST TWENTY-THIRD STREET
  1895

  Copyright, 1895,
  BY E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY.

INTRODUCTION

For the last fifty years or more South Africa has been an attractive
field for the hunter in search of large game.  Along in the middle of
the century it was the paradise of the sportsman, as the readers of
hunting-stories of that time can well understand; as time has gone on
the game has steadily diminished, and the hunter of to-day makes but
a poor record in comparison with Cumming, Andersson, and other men of
the early times.  But even at present South Africa is not without
attractions for the hunter, though he can never hope for successes
like those which have been mentioned.

The customary methods of hunting in South Africa were, and still are,
for the hunter to outfit in one of the principal towns along the
coast or in the interior, equipping himself with wagons, oxen, and
horses, and hiring the necessary number of people to accompany him in
a journey up-country.  The lading of the wagons consists of
provisions and ammunition for the hunter's use, together with various
kinds of goods to be used as presents or for trading-purposes among
the natives.  As fast as the provisions are consumed and the goods
are used up, the wagons are loaded with the ivory of elephants and
the skins of other beasts, such as can be sold in the outfitting
market.  The party will be absent from the point of outfitting all
the way from four months to a year or more, depending upon the luck
of the hunter in the slaughter of game, and also upon the
preservation of his oxen and horses.  Not infrequently he meets with
disaster, his animals dying in the wilderness and leaving him without
motive power for his wagons.  In such an event he must act according
to his judgment; sometimes he may leave his property in the care of a
friendly chief, but if no such personage can be found he must destroy
the fruits of his expedition.  It is a rule all through Africa never
to abandon goods and allow them to fall into the hands of the
natives.  If goods must be left behind, the true African traveler
always sets fire to them, or in some other way renders them worthless.

Down to quite recently it was the custom for hunting-parties of from
two to five or six men to club together, buy an outfit, and go
up-country on a hunting-expedition.  If they are fairly successful
the sale of the ivory and skins obtained on the expedition will cover
all the expenses of it, and frequently leave a liberal profit to be
divided at the end of the tour.  It was an expedition of this sort
which brought together the heroes of our story, "Hunters Three," and
we will leave the reader to ascertain by perusal of the narrative the
various adventures through which these young men passed.

And it was a similar expedition, though made with less expectation of
profit, that went out from Walvisch Bay to give two British women a
chance at the big game of South Africa.  Somehow the steps of these
two expeditions trended in the same direction, and led to their
meeting as detailed in the opening chapters of the narrative.  That
somebody should fall in love with somebody else as a result of the
meeting was naturally to be expected.  Love exists in South Africa
quite as much as in more civilized lands, and love-making can be
pursued in the haunts of the elephant and buffalo just as readily as
in the gilded parlors of fashionable life.  In justification of this
assertion this narrative of sport and love in South Africa is
submitted to the reader for his instruction and amusement.

T.W.K.

CONTENTS.

CHAPTER I.

Breakfast Interrupted--Chasing a Big Tusker

CHAPTER II.

Surprised--A Woman Hunting Elephants--Jack's Hippopotamus

CHAPTER III.

A Question of Etiquette--The Fair Hunter Discussed--Lions Visit Us at
Night

CHAPTER IV:

Narrow Escape from a Buffalo--A Divergent Excursion

CHAPTER V.

After Buffaloes and Elands--A Fortunate Snap-shot--Another Hunter's
Game

CHAPTER VI.

A Disputed Prize--Rule of African Hunting--Mrs. Roberts

CHAPTER VII.

Stalking a Koodoo--Harry and Jack among Elands--Caught in a Pitfall

CHAPTER VIII.

African Horse-sickness--Two Narrow Escapes in Elephant-hunting--Jack
and his Horse

CHAPTER IX.

A Morning Call in South Africa--Ladies at Home--How Miss Boland
Killed a Lion

CHAPTER X.

An Invitation Accepted--Another Buffalo--Preparing Luncheon in Style

CHAPTER XI.

Ice-Making in Africa--A Hunters' Luncheon--After Gemsbok Again

CHAPTER XII.

Another Elephant--A Misfortune--Harry's Luck

CHAPTER XIII.

Harry's Shot--His Tracker's Predicament--After Hippopotami--Elephants
Again

CHAPTER XIV.

Hunting Giraffes--Novel Mode of Capture--A Big Snake

CHAPTER XV.

How the Serpent was Captured--Hospitable Reception--Mystery of a
Donkey

CHAPTER XVI.

Snake Cutlets and Stews--Miss Boland Stalks a Giraffe--Oxen for
Hunting-purposes

CHAPTER XVII.

Mrs. Roberts Kills a Giraffe--Hunting the Rhinoceros--Miss Boland
Secures a Pet

CHAPTER XVIII.

Transporting a Young Rhinoceros--Harry and Jack in Love--Animal
Intelligence--Jack's Boat

CHAPTER XIX.

Two Narrow Escapes from Crocodiles--Stalking Elands with Lions in
Company--Good Record for an Afternoon

CHAPTER XX.

An Alarm--The Ladies Missing--What Happened to Them--The Rescue

CHAPTER XXI.

Rescuing the Ladies from Lions--On the Way to Camp--Fight with a
Rogue Elephant

CHAPTER XXII.

Hunting Hippos and Crocodiles--The Ladies Missing Again--Conjectures
as to their Fate

CHAPTER XXIII.

The Rescuing-party--A Startling Discovery--Caught in a Cloudburst

CHAPTER XXIV.

Unpleasant Company--Rescuing the Castaways--Shooting Lions at
Night--Miss Boland's Menagerie

CHAPTER XXV.

Ladies Hunting Hippos--Miss Boland Overboard among the
Crocodiles--Discussing a Change of Base

CHAPTER XXVI.

Change Of Base--Crossing the River--Runaway Oxen--New Hunting-ground

CHAPTER XXVII.

The Ladies Chased by a Herd of Buffaloes--How their Lives were
Saved--In Camp Again--Stories of Buffalo Adventure

CHAPTER XXVIII.

Miscellaneous Hunting--Sudden Call for Help--The Ladies Besieged by
an African Chief--Foreigners' Magic

CHAPTER XXIX.

How We Deceived the King--Solving a Matrimonial Puzzle--Inspan and
Move South--Overtaken

CHAPTER XXX.

The Last Hunt--Three Proposals--"Still Waters Run Deep"--The End

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.

He Saw Me and Charged ... Frontispiece

Round and Round the Tree We Went

The Boar was Followed by a Spring

How the Serpent was Captured

Miss Boland Shoots Two Giraffes

My Escape from the Crocodiles

The Lions and the Elands

The Escape of the Ladies from the Lions

Hippopotamus-hunt

Turning the Charge of the Buffaloes

HUNTERS THREE.

CHAPTER I.

BREAKFAST INTERRUPTED--CHASING A BIG TUSKER.

We were just going inside the tent, Harry, Jack, and I, to eat our
frugal breakfast, when we saw one of our natives coming at a rapid
run.  He waved his hand as he approached, and shouted:

"Tembo, Bwana!"

Rendered into English, this means, "Elephants, master!" and the
announcement of elephants put the thought of breakfast out of our
heads.

The man came to a halt in front of us, and explained, in a mixture of
English, Cape Dutch, and two or three native languages, that he had
discovered a troop of elephants a little more than a mile from our
camp.  There were ten or twelve of them, he thought, and among them
were at least three or four large tuskers.

"All right," said I.  "Let's go to breakfast, boys, and then go after
the elephants.  They'll keep, and the breakfast won't, nor will we
keep, either, without it."

So we went to the tent and speedily made way with what the cook had
prepared.  It was a modest repast, consisting of coffee, with plenty
of sugar and no milk, and some steaks of hartbeest broiled over the
coals of a thorn-bush fire.  For bread we had what the English
colonist calls damper--dough made of flour and water, and baked in a
Dutch oven.  Very good bread can be made in this way, but not by the
ordinary Hottentot cook, such as one engages for an African
hunting-expedition.

We disposed of our breakfast with a rapidity that would have done
honor to a railway-station where the train halts ten minutes for
refreshments.  In considerably less than ten minutes we had finished
breakfast and were getting our rifles ready for business.

We took our heaviest rifles, as the game was of a kind to require a
liberal amount of lead to bring it down.  My elephant-gun carried six
bullets to the pound; it was a breech-loader of the Remington
pattern, and of a weight proportioned to its caliber.  A trusty negro
boy carried it for me, and his instructions were to keep close at my
heels wherever I went, whenever we were out on a hunting-expedition.

Jack and Harry had a similar equipment, except that their rifles
carried eight bullets to the pound, and consequently had a little
less penetrating power than my own.  Each of us had a supply of
explosive bullets, in addition to the solid ones, and in the course
of this narrative the reader will learn how these explosive bullets
were used.

When a party goes out on a hunting-expedition there is always a risk
that somebody will shoot somebody else; elephant and buffalo hunting
is nearly always conducted among trees or bushes, very rarely in open
ground, and where parties are within gunshot of one another it is
impossible always to avoid accidents, even with the greatest care.
For this reason it was our custom to scatter about a good deal, first
ascertaining the position of the game, and the direction in which it
would be likely to run when disturbed.

Mirogo, my native tracker, who had discovered the troop of elephants,
said they were in a little piece of forest adjoining a swamp on the
banks of the Luranga River.  As he described the forest we made out
that it was not more than forty or fifty acres in extent, while the
swamp was much larger.  After some discussion it was arranged that
Harry should make a circuitous course to the farther side of the
forest, Jack was to remain on the hither side, while Frank (that is
my name) would penetrate the wooded ground and literally stir up the
animals, getting the most effective shot that he could while so doing.

It was necessary to be very careful about giving the elephants our
wind; if they once got scent of us they would be off in a hurry.
Fortune favored us in this respect, as the wind blew directly across
the forest toward the point where we reached it.  Consequently the
animals were not likely to scent us, provided neither Harry nor Jack
proceeded too far along their respective sides of the lair of the
elephants.

I sat down and waited while Harry and Jack were reaching their
positions, and during my waiting spell I listened intently for a
sound of the animals.  Now and then the breeze brought to my ears the
crashing of the limbs and trees, and the low trumpetings of the
elephants as they called to one another while taking their morning
feed.  It was evident they had not been alarmed and were totally
unaware of the danger that threatened them.

When I had allowed a sufficient time, as I thought, for my friends to
reach their stations, I proceeded cautiously into the forest,
preceded by Mirogo, the tracker, and closely followed by Kalil, my
gun-bearer.

We advanced in the direction of the sound of the crashing of limbs,
keeping carefully up the wind; and when within two or three hundred
yards, as nearly as I could judge, of the elephants, I took
possession of my gun and cartridge-belt, and told Kalil to stand by
with more cartridges ready to give me in case I needed them.

The ground was difficult to march over, as it was covered with
creeping vines that every moment threatened to trip me up, and would
most certainly do so in case I were trying to run from an enraged
elephant.  The elephant can crash through these creepers and
undergrowth with the greatest ease; at all events, they do not seem
to impede him in the least when he is pursuing the man who has fired
at him and failed to bring him down.  Should the man fall under such
circumstances his life is not worth the value of a pin; he is
trampled out of all semblance to humanity, and sometimes the
infuriated beast will stand over him for an hour or more, long after
life is extinct, trumpeting and bellowing, and renewing his assaults
upon the shapeless remains of his adversary.

Lest the reader might suppose that this statement is a flight of
fancy let me tell what happened to my friend M----, only a few months
before the time of which I am writing.  M---- and I were hunting on
one of the tributaries of the Zambesi, and had bagged a goodly
quantity of large game.  I was one ahead of M---- on the score of
elephants, and the time was approaching for us to break camp and
return to the Boer country, whence we had started on our expedition.

One morning two elephants were reported not very far from our camp,
and I suggested to M---- that he had better go out and shoot one in
order to bring his account even with mine, and I added, jocularly,
"If you can shoot them both I'll divide with you and keep our scores
just equal.  I don't want you to beat me and be able to boast about
it after we get back to civilization."

"Oh, I'll take care of both of them," M---- answered, "and bring in a
buffalo or two in addition."

Off he started with his tracker and gun-bearer, while I went out on
the plain to the south of us, in the hope of bagging a koodoo or a
gemsbok.  I was gone until noon, or a little later.

When I came back to camp there was no one there but the cook, and two
of the men, who were guarding the oxen.  The cook told me that
something terrible had happened to Mr. M----, and the rest of the men
had gone out to where he had been hunting elephants.

I followed immediately, and found that poor M---- had shot at an
elephant, but did not succeed in hitting him vitally.  The animal
fell to the ground, but was up again in a moment, so the tracker
said.  He wheeled about with wonderful quickness, considering his
size and apparent awkwardness, and made straight for his assailant.
M---- started to run and reach the shelter of the nearest tree; his
foot caught in a creeping vine, and he fell prostrate.  In a moment
the elephant was upon him, pounding the unfortunate man with his
trunk, trampling him underfoot, and impaling him with his tusks.  The
tracker watched him from the nearest shelter, but could do nothing.
The elephant remained by the side of his victim for at least half an
hour, when, hearing a trumpet-call from his companion, he moved away
into the forest.

We brought M----'s body to the camp, and buried it with all the
ceremony which our situation permitted.  I at once gave orders for
inspanning the oxen and starting on our homeward journey, and a sad
journey it was, you may well believe.

But I am wandering from the thread of my story.  I took the gun from
the hands of Kalil, and crept cautiously along in the direction of
the elephants.  I must have been sixty yards away when I spied the
back of one rising among the bushes; an enormous back it was, fully
nine feet from the ground, but it was no use shooting at that part of
the animal, and I withheld my fire.  There are only a few places
where you can hit an elephant and kill him at the first shot: one is
directly in the center of the forehead, where the skull is a little
thinner than elsewhere; another is between the eye and ear; and the
third is in the vicinity of the heart, just back of the foreshoulder.
If you hit him anywhere else he may travel some time carrying your
lead, even though the body is penetrated from side to side; and if
you hit him on the skull or any other bony place where your bullet
glances off, the principal result of your shot is to enrage him.
Mindful of all this, I watched and waited for a suitable chance, and
in a little while I had it.

The elephant fed slowly along, and, fortunately for me, though not
for him, he fed in my direction.  He broke through the clump of
bushes where he was feeding, and gave me a full view of his head,
broadside on.  I took aim between his eye and ear, and I took careful
aim, you may be sure.  Then I fired, and heard plainly the thud of
the bullet as it reached its mark.

The smoke hung about me, and for half a minute or so I could not see
in any direction.  That is a nuisance in shooting in an African
forest, and especially in a swampy one.  The air is so damp that the
smoke does not quickly clear away, and the hunter is often left in
doubt at a very critical moment.

And it was a critical moment in this case: the elephant fell to the
ground as the result of my shot, and I felt that my prize was secure;
but as the smoke cleared away he rose to his feet again, and charged
directly toward where I stood.  I do not think I was over fifty yards
from him when I fired, and therefore he had but a short distance to
come.  He ran and I ran; but in the meantime I had got a fresh
cartridge from my belt and shoved it into the gun.  I kept my eye on
a large tree a little to the right of my position, and made for that
tree with the greatest speed of which I was capable, taking care to
avoid catching my feet in any of the creeping vines.  A man can
easily dodge an elephant around a large tree; the animal is so bulky
and unwieldy that he cannot turn and twist as rapidly as a man can,
and in this respect the biped has the advantage over the quadruped.

I was almost paralyzed with astonishment--of course I will not say
fear--when I saw the bulk of the creature I had shot at, and his
immense tusks.  I knew it was a case of life and death, and he was
not likely to give up his pursuit of me in a hurry.  At the same time
I felt that I had planted the bullet in an effective spot, and could
not altogether understand why he was up again after having fallen.
But there was no chance for theorizing; he was up, certainly, and
after me, and that is all there was about it.

[Illustration: ROUND AND ROUND THE TREE WE WENT.]

Round and round the tree we went, perhaps half a dozen times.  He had
his mouth open and trunk uplifted, and I watched for a chance to give
him another shot.  Shooting was difficult under the circumstances; a
man on a dead run around a tree is unable to aim a gun with any
accuracy, and, furthermore, there are not many vulnerable points
about an elephant, as I have already shown.  The only thing I could
do was to fire into his mouth, but that was not likely to do any good.

The French have a saying that it is the unexpected which always
happens; so it was with me and the elephant.

Suddenly there came the sound of the trumpet-call of another
elephant.  My pursuer stopped an instant to listen, turning his head
to one side.  As he did so I gave him another bullet, directly in the
spot where I sent the first one.  He quivered, staggered for a
moment, and fell, dead!

CHAPTER II.

SURPRISED--A WOMAN HUNTING ELEPHANTS--JACK'S HIPPOPOTAMUS.

Following my shot, with an interval of not more than two seconds,
came the sound of another rifle, three or four hundred yards away.
Then several elephants--I cannot say whether there were two or three,
or twice that number--crashed away through the forest in different
directions, and simultaneously with the crashing I heard the sound of
other shots in the same direction as the first one.

"Surely Harry and Jack can't have turned back and got here as quickly
as this?" I said to myself.  "That must be some other hunter; but I
don't know of any one in this neighborhood."

I shouted and blew my whistle, but received no audible response,
except the firing of a rifle, which seemed to be discharged directly
toward the sky.  Then I went in the direction of the shot,
occasionally blowing my whistle to indicate my whereabouts.  Of
course Mirogo and Kalil accompanied me.

When we had gone about three hundred yards we met a native tracker
who was unknown to me, and also to both my servants.  He had a few
words with Mirogo, and it was evident that they understood each
other.  Mirogo turned to me and said there was another hunter who had
shot an elephant, and was back in the forest a short distance.

"Very well," I said to Mirogo; "show me where he is and I'll make his
acquaintance."

"He isn't a man," said Mirogo; "he's a woman!"

"What!" I exclaimed, "a woman hunting elephants?"

"That's what his tracker say," replied Mirogo; "his tracker say he's
woman."

Well, here was romance with a vengeance: a woman shooting elephants
in Africa, and we three men had not heard of her presence in the
neighborhood!  All the more reason why I should become acquainted
with our rival.  We certainly did not want to be in each other's way,
and, moreover, if she was from any civilized land it would be a
satisfaction to see and talk with her.  The female society that one
encounters in an African hunting-expedition is not usually of a kind
to be enamoured of, as it consists almost entirely of native negroes,
whose accomplishments in literature and the arts are not very marked.
Furthermore, their style of beauty and habits of life do not render
them at all attractive.

It did not occur to me that however much I might desire to make the
acquaintance of this amazon she might not care for mine; but that is
a good deal like a man, anyhow.  The majority of the male sex always
seem to think that their society is in demand, and you cannot make
them understand that their room is sometimes better than their
company.

So I followed Mirogo, who was following the strange tracker, and in a
very few minutes I stood with my hat off in presence of the fair one,
the sound of whose rifle had attracted my attention.

I bowed and smiled, and apologized for the intrusion, adding that I
was quite unaware that any party but my own was in that region.
"Don't understand me as objecting to your presence," I added, "as
there is abundance of game for ten times the number of hunters that
are likely to assemble in this neighborhood."

"Quite natural," said the stranger, "that you were not aware of our
being in this vicinity, as we only arrived here last evening.  We
heard of a party of hunters who had come in from the southeast; we
came in here from the southwest, from Walvisch Bay, and only encamped
at sunset yesterday.  This morning I heard of elephants in this
forest, and came out in the hope of shooting one."

"And evidently you have succeeded," I replied, pointing in the
direction of the fallen beast that lay a short distance away.  "Allow
me to extend my congratulations."

She accepted the compliment, and said it was not her first elephant
by any means.  "We have been out several weeks," she continued, "and
have been hunting whenever the opportunity offered."

"One does not carry a card-case in his pocket on an elephant-hunt," I
remarked, "so please allow me to introduce myself verbally.  I am
Frank Manson, at your service, and belong to a hunting-party that
came out from Durban and has been working up in this direction.  We
are encamped about two miles east of here."

The fair huntress bowed slightly in acknowledgment, and then said: "I
am Miss Boland, and am with my friend, Mrs. Roberts.  We are both
English, and are independent enough to travel by ourselves.  The only
men in our party are the native assistants, the fore-looper,
after-rider, and manager; the latter is a Dutchman who has general
charge of the wagons and outfit, subject to our orders."

I thanked her for the information, and asked if I or my friends could
be of any assistance to her.  It is so like a man to think that a
woman always wants assistance that the suggestion came from me as
naturally as does the phrase "Good-morning" whenever I meet a friend
at the beginning of the day.

She smiled, saying as she did so, with an air of independence:

"Thank you, sir, but I do not know that we need any assistance
whatever; you are very kind to tender it, but really we manage to get
along very comfortably.  Should I think of anything in which you can
aid us I will not hesitate to send word to your camp.  Do you remain
long in this neighborhood?"

"As to that I cannot say positively," I replied; "we have formed no
very definite plans.  Shall stay where we are as long as the hunting
is good, and when it falls off we'll go elsewhere.  I presume that is
very much the case with yourselves?"

"Yes," she replied; "we stay in a place as long as we like it, and
then move on."

With that she bowed, as if to intimate that I had better be moving on
in my own direction.  I took the hint and bade her good-day, with the
suggestion that I had been greatly pleased at meeting her; and she
amiably returned the suggestion almost word for word.  I went back in
the direction of my fallen elephant, and she turned the other way in
the forest.

The reader will naturally want to know how this amazon of the African
woods was dressed.

Her costume was decidedly mannish, and less unlike mine than might at
first be supposed.  She wore loose, baggy trousers that were thrust
into hunting-boots, thus enabling her to get around the forest far
easier than if she had been encumbered with any kind of skirts, even
short ones.  The upper part of her figure was clad in a tunic that
was buttoned from the neck down the whole length of the front, and
terminated just at the knee, not below it.  The tunic was evidently
made for hunting-purposes, as it abounded in pockets and had a
cartridge-case firmly sewed to it.  On her head she wore a sola
topee, or sun-helmet, and in general her dress was not at all unlike
that of a man.  While we were conversing she stood behind a fallen
log, so that I could not take in the entire outline of her figure.
Her manner was pleasing enough, and altogether I felt myself a little
touched in the region of the heart.  Her independence had piqued me
somewhat, and I felt that I wanted to see her again, but exactly how
to go about it I did not know.  She had not invited me to visit their
camp or indicated the slightest desire that any one of our party
should come near her or her friend.  While she had not said they
wished to be left alone, she certainly did not say that she wanted
any of our company.

I got back to where my fallen elephant lay, and then sent Mirogo to
camp to bring men and an ax for cutting out the animal's tusks.  I
told him to be particular and not make any mistake, as the men might
stumble on the carcass of the elephant which Miss Boland had killed.
I remarked that it would be very discourteous to take the tusks of
her elephant instead of ours, and, furthermore, that ours were much
larger than hers.

Then, accompanied by Kalil, I made my way back to camp, reaching
there an hour or more before Harry and Jack returned from their
unprofitable wait at the edge of the forest.  We took lunch, and then
went down the river to shoot hippopotami.  We met with fairly good
luck, as we killed three or four of the big brutes, though we secured
only one, the others sinking out of our reach in the river.  It is
proper to say that I had no actual part in the affair, as I turned
away before reaching the river to stalk a gemsbok.

"We made a good-sized raft of reeds," said Harry--"one that would
hold both of us and a couple of men to paddle the craft.  In this
raft we floated out into the river and down a half-mile or so, where
it expands into a narrow lake.  When we started we couldn't see a
hippo, not one, as they'd all taken the alarm at the noise we made
building and launching the raft.  By the time we got down to the
broad portion of the river we were beyond the point of disturbance,
and then we saw their snouts sticking out of the water in various
directions.  The proper thing to do is to shoot the hippo in shallow
water, and then throw a harpoon into him just as quickly as you can.
If you can manage to kill him instantly with your first shot, and the
water is not too deep, you can get him and drag him ashore; but
unless your first shot is instantly fatal he gets away.

"And that was the case with us," Harry continued; "there was only one
that we got fine work into, and that we did with an explosive bullet.
Jack was the lucky fellow.  He put the bullet straight into the
hippo's ear, and that, you know, is the best shot to make.  It didn't
explode until it got well into his head, and I don't believe there
was ever a more astonished creature in the river than that beast was
when the explosion came.  He went to the bottom like a shot; that is,
he went down about four feet.  We had a harpoon along, one of the
regular style that the natives hunt with, and we prodded that into
the fellow just as soon as we could.  Then we paddled the raft off to
the shore, and dragged him along by means of the harpoon-line."

"And you've got him all right, have you?" I said.

"Oh yes," replied Harry, "he's secure; but the others are at the
bottom of the river.  The men will be along in a little while with
the skin of the beast, and we'll have all the jambok we want in the
camp."

I should explain that the jambok is a whip made of hippopotamus-hide,
just like the koorbash in Egypt.  It is the most cruel whip ever
made; the nearest approach to it known in the civilized world is the
green hide, or rawhide, such as was formerly used in the Southern
States in the days of slavery, and occasionally by New England
schoolmasters of the olden time on very unruly pupils.

Our native attendants had a royal feast off the flesh of the
hippopotamus, and we came in for a share of it, or as much as we
wanted.  Hippo is very good eating when you cannot get anything
better; it has a strong, rather musky flavor which I do not like, and
I find that most other white men have tastes similar to mine in this
respect.  But a Kafir, or any other black-skinned native of Africa,
is not at all particular, and you might empty a bottleful of musk
over his dinner without interfering with his appetite.

I did not say a word to Harry and Jack until dinner about the hunter
I met in the forest.  I told them briefly about my elephant-hunt, but
we all were too busy for anything else until we got seated at the
table; fact is, we were pretty busy then, as all were hungry, but
there are intervals at table when even a very hungry man can put in a
few words now and then between the mouthfuls.

"By the way, fellows, I didn't tell you about the new hunting-party
here, did I?" I remarked, soon after we had taken our seats.

"No!" said both the others, in a breath; "who are they?"

"I don't know their whole pedigree," I replied.  "I have only seen
one of them."

"Well, what can you tell us about him?" said Harry.  "Who is he?
Where is he from?  What kind of an outfit has he?"

"There are several questions all in one," I answered, "and some of
them I haven't yet learned about.  In the first place, it isn't a
'him' at all; it's a 'her'!"

CHAPTER III.

  A QUESTION OF ETIQUETTE--THE FAIR HUNTER
  DISCUSSED--LIONS VISIT US AT NIGHT.

"What!" exclaimed Harry and Jack simultaneously.

"Yes, it's a woman, and she shot an elephant this afternoon."

Another exclamation of astonishment followed my assertion, and then
Harry asked:

"Who is she?"

"Her name is Miss Boland," I answered; "at least that's what she told
me, and she said her companion was Mrs. Roberts.  They came from
Walvisch Bay, and that's pretty much all I know about them."

Then I explained the circumstances under which we met, and detailed
the conversation, word for word, as nearly as I could remember it.

The information almost broke up the dinner of my companions.  That a
woman, or two women, should take to hunting big game in South Africa
was enough to take away any man's breath, and with his breath gone
there was not much chance for him to need an appetite.  Both of them
stopped eating long enough to allow me to take the choicest cuts of
the hippopotamus, and if I had managed the affair shrewdly, and
maintained a good deal of mystery about the matter, I think I might
have stolen the entire dinner.  But when I said that was all I knew
about it, their appetites returned, and they fell to eating again
with their accustomed vigor.

"We must go and call on them to-morrow morning," said Harry.  "Pity
we haven't a barber and a tailor and a fashionable bootmaker here on
the borders of the Luranga River."

"Oh, nonsense," said Jack.  "What business have we to go calling on
them?  We've never been introduced."  Then, turning to me, Jack
inquired if the fair one I met had requested a visit from me or my
friends.

I told him what the reader already knows, and then Jack remarked:

"That settles it; if those women want us they'll send for us, or if
they want us and don't send for us they'll manage to hunt around in
this direction and stumble upon our camp by the merest accident,
first finding out exactly where it is, so that there won't be any
mistake about their accident.  My idea is, that we had better stick
to our business; mind our own affairs, in fact, and let them politely
alone.  We may run across them hunting some day, and they'll be far
more likely to respect us if we hold aloof than if we go running
after them."

"Oh, that's all rubbish," said Harry; "we'll ride over to their camp;
that is, we'll get within half a mile or so of it, and send along the
most intelligent of our servants.  He can go to their camp, and
through their principal servant let the women know that it would give
us pleasure to call on them if entirely agreeable."

"Yes," said Jack, "and thereby compel them to receive us, or appear
rude in declining our call.  We push ourselves forward and put them
in an awkward position.  We are just like the man whom you know, but
don't care a straw about, who comes to you with a plausible yarn,
with the object of borrowing five dollars.  He forces you to do one
of two things, either of which is disagreeable: part with your
money--with a prospect of never seeing it again--or affront him by a
refusal.  I tell you flatly I will not go.  Understand me, I would
like to meet the ladies, for such I presume they are, but I don't
want to force myself on their acquaintance."

Harry did not admit the force of Jack's argument, at least not
audibly.  Before committing himself he turned to me and asked my
opinion.  I coincided with Jack, but made a suggestion that it would
do no harm for us to hunt in that direction, and possibly we might
meet one or both the amazons in field or forest.

Harry and Jack assented to this view, and the discussion as to the
propriety of calling upon the women was dropped.

"The one you saw must have been an accomplished huntress," Harry
remarked, after a pause.

"Oh, call her a hunter," said Jack; "don't bother about that
straining word 'huntress.'  In sport, as in science, there's no
distinction of sex.  When women first began to study medicine one who
obtained her degree was called 'doctress.'  Now that nonsense is
dropped, and she's called doctor, like any other medical
practitioner.  Hunting big game in South Africa is entitled to be
called a science; anyhow, it requires a lot of science to succeed in
it.  She's a hunter just as much as you or I."

"All right," said Harry; "I won't dispute with you, especially
because I think you are right; and I don't think Frank will, either."

I assented to the adoption of the term as Jack proposed, at which the
latter remarked that we seemed to be settling a good many important
questions over our hippopotamus-steak.

Then they asked me as to the appearance, dress, and manner of Miss
Boland, and I answered them to the best of my ability.  After our
dinner was over we had our smoke, and soon after went to bed.  Before
we retired our wagonmaster reported that lions were about the kraal
the previous night, as he had heard them growling several times, and
found their spoor close up to the fence.  He thought we might have
another visit that night, and wished to know if he should call us.

"By all means," I answered; "when you're entirely sure they're
outside, let us know."

When we camped on that spot we made a kraal of thorn-bushes, which
surrounded everything, including our tent and wagons.  The cattle
were driven into the kraal at night, and were carefully watched
during the day by the men who had them in charge.  We had about fifty
oxen altogether, and five horses, and the horses were secured in the
same way as the cattle.  The kraal was built high and strong; it is
necessary to make it high, otherwise the lions might attempt to jump
it.  On the outside of the kraal thorn-bushes were scattered all over
the ground, at least ten or fifteen feet from the fence, the object
being to prevent the lions approaching close to the kraal, where they
could get a favorable opportunity for a jump.

We got our guns ready for work in case the lions showed themselves,
and then turned in.

About one o'clock in the morning my Kafir came to wake me, and said
the lions were outside the kraal.  I was up on the instant, and so
were Harry and Jack; fact is, we had not undressed at all, as we felt
it reasonably certain that we would be called, and wanted to have as
little delay as possible in getting at work.

At least one half of our people were out and about when we made our
appearance.  That there were lions around was evident by the actions
of the horses and oxen.  The horses were in a little kraal by
themselves, each one tethered to a stake, and on a quiet night all
would be lying down and at rest; now every horse was up, dancing
around uneasily, and straining at his halter.  My favorite,
Brickdust--as I called him on account of his color--was snorting and
stamping in a condition of excitement.  When I spoke to him he
quieted down instantly, but not altogether.  He felt a good deal
reassured by my presence, but at the same time believed himself in
danger.  It was the same with the other horses; and as for the oxen,
they were likewise on the alert, and aware of the presence of their
natural enemy.

The Kafirs were jabbering away at a great rate when we appeared.  We
enjoined silence, but it was not easy to quiet them; in fact, it was
necessary to threaten them with the jambok before we succeeded in
hushing their voices.  When they were hushed we could distinctly hear
the lions, now in one quarter, and now in another.  They were
evidently prowling around the outside of the kraal looking for a spot
where they could penetrate to the interior.

Harry suggested that we go outside and find them; to this proposition
I demurred most emphatically, and so did Jack.  I presume Harry
really did not intend to do anything so foolish, but made the
suggestion out of bravado.  It would have been folly for us to do
what he suggested, as the lions would have seen us far easier than we
could have seen them.  They had come in search of food, and were,
therefore, hungry.  We should run a very good chance of becoming
their victims instead of their becoming ours.

The Kafirs had erected their huts of grass and bushes inside the
kraal, close up to the fence.  I suggested that we climb to the top
of these huts, which would give us a view over the fence; and my
friends acted upon the suggestion.  We scattered so that the three of
us commanded three sides of the kraal with our weapons, and from this
point of vantage we peered out as well as we could into the darkness.

There was a small moon, which was nearly set, so that we had not much
light to help us.  I was favored in my position by having the moon
almost directly in front of me, while the ground outside the kraal
sloped off gradually at that point.  It was understood that we were
to act independently of one another, and also not to waste our
bullets.  No one was to fire except when he felt certain that he saw
a good mark to fire at.

The uneasiness of the oxen and horses continued; our dogs were also
running around, and manifesting a desire to take part in whatever
fighting was about to occur.  Now and then they indicated their
feelings by growling; they would have barked outright had they not
been ordered most emphatically to emulate the example of the oyster
and "shut up."

We had been ten or fifteen minutes on the top of the huts when I made
out the forms of three lions that were half walking and half crawling
along the ridge betwixt me and the sky.  They seemed to be a lion and
two lionesses, or possibly an old lion with two younger ones.  At any
rate, I could make out a heavy mane on the foremost of the brutes,
and little or none at all on the others.

I brought my rifle to the shoulder, and let fly at the leader and
largest of the trio.  I aimed to take him in the shoulder-blade, and
either kill or disable him at the first shot.

My rifle rang out on the still night air, and immediately following
it there was a terrific roar, which told that my bullet had hit its
mark.  Following the roar was a rush toward my position; the victim
of my shot desired revenge, and in order to obtain it made for the
direction of the flash.

His companions followed him; and the whole three came dashing on
through the outlying mass of thorn-bushes and up to the very front of
the kraal.  But an African lion is not proof; against the wait-a-bit
thorn.  The only animals that can successfully defy this product of
the African soil are the elephant, rhinoceros, hippopotamus, and
alligator.  Well, yes, I do not think the buffalo minds the
wait-a-bit, at least when he is old, and his skin has acquired the
proper toughness; but the young buffalo treats it with respect after
he has become experienced in its qualities.

The lion came no farther than the fence, just outside the hut on
which I stood; another leap and he would have reached me.

This reminds me of one night when I was in camp in the Impanyi
country and had not made a strong kraal.  The lions came around the
kraal at night, and I was waked up suddenly by hearing one of the
oxen bellowing and the dogs barking.  The night was pretty dark, and
it was not easy for me to perceive objects more than fifteen or
twenty feet away.  My tent was pitched close to the rear of the
wagon; when I got outside I saw the driver standing on the top of a
grass-hut about six feet high, which was near the front wheels of the
wagon.  The ox was bellowing and the lion was growling; they were not
more than twenty yards from me, but it was so dark that I could not
see them.  I climbed to the top of the hut by the side of the driver,
and after fixing my eyes steadily on the spot for some minutes I
thought I could make out the lion's form.  At any rate, I fired in
that belief, and the growl and roar which immediately followed told
me I had made a hit.  The ox was evidently dead by this time, as all
sound from him had ceased.

I put in another cartridge and fired again, this time a few inches
lower than before.  My shot was followed by a loud roar, far more
terrific than the one which had preceded it, and the roar was
followed by a spring.  How many bounds the lion made I do not know,
but he struck me full in the chest with his head, and sent me
tumbling off the hut to the ground on which it stood.  In my fall I
brought with me the wagon-driver, and at first I thought it was the
lion that was mixed up with me on the ground, instead of the harmless
Kafir.  The driver scrambled to the top of the wagon, and I followed
and got on the box.  I do not understand how the driver managed to
get there so quickly, as the whole thing passed in a very short time.

[Illustration: THE ROAR WAS FOLLOWED BY A SPRING.]

Not only was the driver there, but all the Kafirs from the kraal;
some were inside the wagon, some on top, and others standing on the
wheels, or in any place where they could find clinging-room.

My driver got his gun out from the inside of the wagon, and then took
a shot from the top of it; the recoil knocked him over and landed him
on the top of my tent.  It would have been a pretty serious fall for
him had it not been for the tent, which broke the force of his
tumble, and was badly broken up as the result.

As near as we could make out by the growling there was a family of
lions, and they did not at all relish being disturbed at their meal.
We all stayed in and around the wagon until daylight; the lions made
off just before it came, and we ventured to descend.

I stayed in camp that day repairing damages and making ready for the
lions in case they returned the next night, which I felt they were
pretty sure to do.  I had the men drag the remains of the ox to the
best spot for getting a shot, right on the crest of a ridge a little
higher up than the wagon, and about twenty-five yards from it.  I had
the carcass fastened down with stakes, so that they could not drag it
away; then I dug a hole in the ground just under the rear of the
wagon, so as to screen me and at the same time give me the horizon to
shoot against.

Well, I had my revenge.  The lions were there not later than an hour
after dark; I heard them before seeing them, but I saw them very
soon.  The head of the family made his appearance first, and he stood
up against the sky so that his whole figure was outlined, and I could
determine just where to shoot.  My greatest difficulty was to make
out the front sight of my rifle; any sportsman will tell you that you
cannot do any accurate shooting when the front sight is obscured.
The best thing at night is to cover it with white paper, and this I
did.

I gave Master Leo a shot just back of the shoulder that brought him
to the ground instanter.  Mrs. Leo next put in an appearance; she did
not give me as fair a shot, but, under the circumstances, I do not
think I ought to complain.  The ball entered her body just a little
forward of the tail, and to one side, and plowed along until near the
foreshoulder, where it stopped.  My driver fired just after me, and
his shot was followed by a loud roar on the part of the lioness.
After a few moments the sound subsided, or rather it came from
farther and farther away.  We waited awhile longer, and then, as
everything was quiet, we went to bed.

Daylight the next morning repealed the lion, dead, close to the
remains of the ox, my shot having killed him.  The lioness was half a
mile away with a broken foreleg, and the bullet in her skin as I have
described.  With her were two cub-lions, which I wanted ever so much
to keep and take to the coast; but I saw that it would be impossible
to do so, and so allowed my men to finish them off.

We removed the skins of all four lions, and I took them back with me
as trophies.  That will do for that story.  Now I will come back to
where we were.

Harry got a shot at another of our disturbers, and then the growling
died away in the distance and finally ceased altogether.  We went
back to our beds and were not called again.  When we rose in the
morning we found that our shots had told, as a lion and lioness, both
severely wounded, were on the ground half a mile or so from camp.
Jack went out with his rifle and finished them in short order, and
the Kaffirs removed their skins.

CHAPTER IV.

NARROW ESCAPE FROM A BUFFALO--A DIVERGENT EXCURSION.

At breakfast we had a difference of opinion as to what we should do
during the day.  I wanted to hunt elephants, in case any could be
found; Harry thought we ought to take the horses and try for elands,
gemsbok, hartbeest, or some others of the antelope family that
abounds in the open country; Jack suggested that a turn at buffalo
would suit him best, and he had learned from his tracker that there
was a herd of buffalo off to the westward.

"Whereabout to the westward?" queried Harry.

"As near as I can make out," replied Jack, "it is somewhere in the
direction where those women are encamped."

Harry gave a low whistle, and said he thought it might be just as
well to make an effort for those buffaloes; in fact, he preferred
buffalo-hunting to anything else, provided the game was in that
direction.  I was of the same opinion, and so it was decided that
after breakfast we should start on a buffalo-hunt.

Hunting the buffalo is pretty nearly as dangerous sport as hunting
the elephant.  The African buffalo is a large and vicious beast, and
has great strength and endurance.  He is an ugly-looking brute at his
best, and his disposition is quite in keeping with his personal
beauty.  One of my first adventures with a bull-buffalo nearly cost
me my life.

It was one afternoon near sunset, when I was camped with a party in
the Amaswazi country.  I was taking a stroll a mile or so away from
camp, and had a dog with me, and also my tracker and gun-bearer.  I
saw plenty of birds and small game, but nothing that I cared to
shoot, and was about to turn back when Mirogo, the tracker, suddenly
made a motion of silence, and pointed with his spear to a little
thicket of wait-a-bit thorns.  I could not see anything at first, but
in a minute or so discovered the outline of a large buffalo about
sixty yards distant.  I suppose he had gone into the thorn-thicket
for the pleasure of titillating his hide, and the African wait-a-bits
ought to be just the thing for that purpose.  The hide of the African
buffalo is fully as thick as that of an American one; it is a saying
of old plainsmen in America that there is nothing in the world which
gives so much pleasure to a healthy old Bos Americanus of the bull
sort as a scratch with a brad-awl, and a good-sized brad-awl is about
the equivalent of a wait-a-bit thorn.

Well, I stalked along quietly, until I got within about thirty yards
of that buffalo, and took a shot at his shoulder.  He ran away, with
the dog after him, and I followed up as fast as I could.  The dog
brought him to bay in a place which was not at all agreeable; I was
inexperienced in buffalo-hunting, and went into the clump of bushes
where he was, much nearer than was prudent.  He saw me and charged; I
did not have time to bring the rifle to my shoulder, and just fired a
snap-shot, which glanced off his forehead like a hailstone off the
roof of a house.

The shot did not seem to disturb him in the least, as he continued to
charge.  I jumped to one side, and must have made a tremendous jump.
He was going at such a speed that the momentum of his body carried
him past me; but he was so near that I certainly felt the wind which
he created in his rush.  The dog stuck to him like a leech, and very
soon brought him to bay in a place that was about as bad as the
previous one.  I went after him once more, and he came out after me,
and I did not see him until he appeared through a bush not ten feet
from me.  He came at full speed, too, and I had no chance to fire.

There was a little path at one side, and I jumped into it.  He did
not go by me this time, but swung around to follow me, and the tips
of his horns were very near me when I reached a small tree.

There was not time for me to climb the tree and get out of his way.
Luckily there were some branches growing out from the root of it,
just about parallel to the ground, and about two feet above it.  I
dived under the tree and lay down as flat as I could, sticking close
to the roots.

The buffalo could not get at me because the branches were too stout
and too close together to enable him to get his horns under them, and
for the same reason he could not get near enough to trample me with
his hoofs.  He walked round and round that tree, evidently trying to
figure out some way of extracting me from that hole.  Horns and hoofs
were of no use, but he managed to insert his nose among the branches,
and pounded me pretty hard with it.  I tried to seize him by the
tongue, and if I had had a hunting-knife with me I think I could have
sent him away.

The fellow pounded me so hard with his nose that it really seemed as
though he were knocking the life out of me.  I found myself growing
weak and misty; by and by everything faded away, and the next I knew
my tracker and gun-bearer were pouring water over my face to revive
me.  I owed my life to those two men, and acknowledged my obligation
by making them, the next day, some handsome presents, of which they
were very proud.  The way they saved me was this:

When they came up to where the buffalo was, after I had gone into the
thicket, they looked cautiously through the bushes and saw him
standing watch near me.  I was lying perfectly still, and he walked
off a little way, probably thinking I might try to get out of my
predicament and give him a chance to impale me on his horns.  The men
took in the situation, and Mirogo crept up near enough to hurl his
spear at the buffalo.  The beast then dropped me out of his
consideration, and went for Mirogo.

Mirogo ran, and at a very lively pace too.  He ran for a small tree
with a projecting bough, and as he came under the tree he seized the
bough and swung himself up among the limbs with the agility of a
monkey.  The buffalo made a vicious dig at the tree, and then went
off into the bush at full speed.  As soon as he considered it safe to
do so Mirogo came down, called my gun-bearer, and found me as I have
already stated.

It did not take us long to get ready for our buffalo-hunt on the
morning in question, and we started off at a very moderate pace on
our horses, partly in order not to tire the beasts unnecessarily, and
partly to enable our Kafirs to keep up with us.  Each of us was
accompanied by two Kafirs, a tracker and a gun-bearer, and there were
generally from two to half a dozen others who went along in order to
see the sport and be of general usefulness.

One thing they were always useful for was to eat up any spare food
that might come in their way.  The quantity that a Kafir will consume
is something astonishing.  I dare not pretend to say how many pounds
of meat one of them can get away with in a sitting, lest I might be
supposed to be romancing.  We generally engaged our Kafirs at so much
for the trip, making no mention of time.  Time is of no consequence
to them as long as they are fed; and as they eat pretty nearly
everything that lives and moves, a hunter with any experience and any
sort of decent luck can manage to subsist them.

Our horses had not been exercised for some days, and were at first
inclined to be frisky.  They soon toned down, however, evidently
realizing that they might have hard work before the day was over, and
would stand in need of all their strength.  Occasionally we took a
little spurt over the open country, just to shake out their limbs a
little, and then settled down for a walk, during which the Kafirs
came up with us.  We passed the borders of the forest where we had
our adventure with the elephants, and entered the valley of the river
where it was fairly well wooded, with open spaces here and there.

We kept a careful lookout for the camp of the amazons, but did not
see it up to the time we reached the river, nor did we see any trace
of either of the fair hunters.

We halted under the shade of a large tree, and candor compels me to
say that we discussed the whereabouts of Miss Boland and her
companion much more than we did the locality of the other game which
we came to seek.  Harry said he thought they had taken alarm and
moved, while Jack felt sure that nothing of the kind had happened.

"We haven't come in the right direction," said he, "and that's where
the trouble is.  I'll wager three to one they haven't moved at all,
unless they found it judicious to move their camp and bring it nearer
to ours."

I did not express any opinion either way on the subject, as I did not
want to appear particularly interested in it.

In a little while, perhaps fifteen or twenty minutes, one of our
trackers came in and said there were buffaloes farther along the
valley toward the west.  There was quite a bunch of them, he said,
some twenty or more, making an assorted lot of bulls, cows, and young
buffaloes.  They were in a patch of thin bushes, which were
sufficiently low to enable the tracker to see the backs of the beasts
without difficulty.

CHAPTER V.

  AFTER BUFFALOES AND ELANDS--A FORTUNATE
  SNAP-SHOT--ANOTHER HUNTER'S GAME.

The question now was whether we should continue our hunting on
horseback or go on on foot.  It is a very two-sided question, this
one of hunting buffaloes on horseback or leaving the horses behind
you.  The horse gives you the advantage of making a rapid pursuit of
your game when it is trying to run away, and with a good horse you
can easily overtake a buffalo, if you have wounded him at all
severely.

On the other hand, it is difficult, yes, practically impossible, to
shoot from a horse's back with any sort of accuracy.  You must
dismount to shoot, and when you do so you necessarily lose a little
time; and quite likely your horse is restive, and will jerk your arm
just as you raise the rifle to your shoulder.  Then, when you try to
mount again, he will make it difficult for you to do so by pulling
back on the bridle and acting ugly.  Horses that are perfect hunters
are very hard to find in Africa, and I do not believe the rest of the
world is oversupplied with them.  I have heard of a great many horses
that would enter into the spirit of the chase, stand like rocks when
their riders wished to fire, follow closely, always be ready to be
mounted, and do everything else that the hunter might desire.  I say
I have heard of those horses, but they were always a long way off
from where I was.

We decided that we would leave the horses under the tree, which was a
conspicuous landmark, with two of the Kafirs to take care of them
while we went on foot after the buffaloes.

Just as we were about starting, however, one of the natives reported
a herd of elands about a mile to the south; whereupon Harry and Jack
concluded to go after the elands, leaving the buffaloes to me.  "It
will diminish the chance of our hitting one another," said Harry,
"which we might very likely do in the bushes where the buffaloes are;
but there's less danger of that sort of trouble in the open country."

I assented to this suggestion, in which there was good sense, and
remarked that it might make a variety in our stock of provisions for
the next few days.

"Don't give all your attention to shooting bull-buffaloes," said
Jack; "fetch down a yearling cow if you have the chance, as it will
be better eating than the patriarchs of the herd."

"All right," I replied; "I'll endeavor to bring you in an
assortment."  And with that I started off, while they were getting
their horses ready.  I saw to it that I had plenty of ammunition, and
Kalil was carrying my six-to-the-pound Remington, which I had cleaned
up that morning.

When we reached the neighborhood of the buffaloes I filled my
cartridge-belt and took my rifle from Kalil.  Mirogo led the way,
creeping along as cautiously as a cat--an animal which he resembled
in more ways than one.  I could hear the buffaloes tramping about in
the bushes; they seemed to be considerably scattered, but evidently
had not been disturbed recently.

The first of the buffaloes to come into my range of vision was a
magnificent bull, who towered considerably above the bushes.  Mirogo,
who was a little distance ahead, called my attention to the animal
and then dropped back behind me.  I crept along until I had a good
chance at the creature's shoulder, about twenty yards away.  I fired,
and my bullet told, as the buffalo gave a loud roar and then looked
around in my direction.  Immediately on firing I slipped behind a
tree, and he did not, at first, perceive me.  Mirogo and Kalil had
also sought the protection of trees, and the animal was evidently
puzzled to know where the shot came from.  He threw his head in the
air, snorted, and then started forward, coming straight to the tree
where I was concealed.

When a buffalo's head is elevated in the way he usually carries it
when on a trot, it affords slight chance for a shot.  A bullet on the
forehead is pretty sure to glance off, and if aimed at any other part
of the head the result will be the same.  About the only thing to do,
provided no broadside is presented, is to crouch low to the ground
and then aim at the animal's chest.  If well planted, a chest-shot is
a fatal, or, at any rate, a demoralizing one.

I had shoved a fresh cartridge into the rifle, and was ready for the
beast when he came on.  I crouched almost to the ground behind the
tree, and when he was within about fifteen paces I let him have it in
the chest.  He fell forward with a plunge that brought him directly
against the tree.  I wiped the perspiration from my forehead, and did
not venture to step out from my place of concealment for at least a
minute.  The buffalo has his tricks, as the reader already knows, and
I wanted to be sure he was dead before I came within his reach.

I blew my whistle to summon my tracker and gun-bearer, and when they
came--which was very quickly, as they were concealed close by--I had
them pull the tail of the buffalo and otherwise test him.  Then we
marked the spot and went in pursuit of the rest of the herd.

Of course the shot had alarmed the other buffaloes, and they
scattered about considerably.  They were difficult to find, and for
nearly half an hour we were uncertain in what direction to go.
Mirogo and I held two or three consultations, and decided to push on
toward the west, where the spoor showed that the animals had gone.

We worked our way along, and in a little while I had the pleasure of
bringing down one of the yearling buffaloes of the kind that Jack
suggested would be desirable.  A single bullet sufficed for his case,
as he gave me a good shot at short distance, and, besides, a yearling
does not possess the strength and endurance of one of those old
veterans such as I had first obtained.

During the excitement that immediately followed the shooting of this
second buffalo I thought I heard the report of a gun a mile or so
away to the westward.  It was only a surmise, as we were just then
tramping around in the bushes, and paying no attention to anything
except what immediately surrounded us.  I gave the subject not a
moment's thought, and speedily forgot all about it, until a sudden
and very unexpected circumstance brought it to my mind again.

One of the dangers of shooting in company, in addition to hitting one
another, is that of coming unexpectedly upon an infuriated beast that
has been wounded by somebody else than yourself.  If you are
following an animal wounded by yourself you will exercise proper
caution, but no skill in the art of hunting, and no amount of
caution, can protect you from the charge of an ugly animal that has
been wounded by some other hunter.  This has happened to me on
several occasions, and it happened on the buffalo-hunt which I have
just been describing.

We were going along through the forest peaceably enough, Mirogo
leading the way and I following, with Kalil, carrying my gun, close
at my heels.  No buffaloes were in sight, and there was no occasion
for me to be burdened with my rifle just at that moment.

Suddenly we heard a great crashing in the bushes twenty or thirty
yards away, and out of them sprang an infuriated bull, who made
directly at us.

Mirogo had just time to shout "Look out, sir!" when he sprang into a
small tree; but there was no tree for me to spring into.  I jumped to
one side of the path, and at the same time brought my rifle around,
which Kalil, with great presence of mind, had shoved into my hands
the moment he heard the crash.  I gave the buffalo a snap-shot just
behind the left shoulder as he passed me, not having time to bring
the weapon to an aim.  It was one of the luckiest shots I ever
planted, as it brought him, dead, to the ground.

The manner of this buffalo indicated that he had been wounded, and I
was sure that he had not been wounded by me.  It naturally occurred
to me that our amazon neighbors had been trying their skill, and had
been unsuccessful in bringing down their game, at least in this
instance.

I told Mirogo to examine the buffalo for bullet-marks other than my
own.  He examined the body of the brute, and it turned out as I
expected: the animal had been wounded, having received a bullet in
the right shoulder.

It is a rule of the chase in Africa that, when several people are
hunting together, the first shot is the counting one.  If I fire at
an animal and wound it, and it runs off in your direction, and you
shoot and bring it down, the prize is mine, not yours.  In some cases
such a decision seems to be very unjust, but on a moment's reflection
the reader will see that it is founded on justice.  The first one who
hits a creature disables it more or less, and through the disability
that he creates the subsequent hunter or hunters are enabled to kill
it.

I told Mirogo to mark the spot by attaching a rag to the tallest bush
in the vicinity, and then continue in the same general direction we
had been traveling.  He acted accordingly, and we proceeded with our
hunting, the impression being very strong on my mind that before we
saw any more buffaloes we would pretty certainly meet the hunter who
had planted the initial shot in the animal I had recently finished.

We went on for a mile or more without seeing or hearing anything.
Then we came to a little mound, perhaps twenty feet in height, whose
top gave us a view over the bushes for quite a distance.  We ascended
the mound and took a careful survey, knowing that if any buffaloes
were in range of the spot we could not easily miss them.

Not a buffalo was in sight, but there was visible, two or three
hundred yards away, a hunter with tracker and gun-bearer.  I looked
very carefully at the hunter, and speedily saw that it was none of
our party.  As the stranger came nearer I perceived that it was not
the fair one whom I met the day before, but was dressed in precisely
the same manner, and the movements and general appearance told me it
was a woman.

"Aha!" I said to myself, "I think I am about to meet Mrs. Roberts.
Miss Boland is at the camp with a headache--no, let me think!  Africa
is no place for headaches such as women complain of in civilized
lands.  Perhaps the two are hunting together, and are working the
buffalo-herd from opposite sides.  She continues to come this way, so
I presume she has no objection to meeting me.  Miss Boland evidently
gave me a good character when she got back to camp.  Perhaps she
didn't mention me at all; may have considered the incident, and the
man, too trivial to refer to.  However, I'll descend from the mound
and meet the lady, who quite likely will ask if I've seen any
buffaloes belonging to her."

I descended from the mound and moved in the direction of the
stranger.  I saluted respectfully, raising my hat as I did so, and
remarking that it was a fine day for hunting.  What a blessing the
weather is for breaking the ice in a conversation!

"Yes," was the response of the stranger, "it is a fine day for
hunting, or for a promenade, and what more agreeable promenade can
there be than in the forest at this time?"

"I certainly know of nothing to surpass it," I replied, "and it is my
fondness for the sport that brought me to this part of the world.
But let me come from generalities to particulars: have you wounded a
buffalo this morning?"

"Yes," was the reply, "I have killed one and wounded another.  I'm
afraid I'm not a first-class shot, as I ought to have brought down
the last buffalo I fired at; he was not more than twenty yards away,
and I had an excellent chance at him."

"What did you aim for?"

"I tried to aim just back of the right foreshoulder, but from the way
he went off I don't think I hit him there; perhaps did not hit him at
all."

"It is my pleasure to inform you," said I, "that your game is secure.
I heard your shot, and a little while afterward a buffalo came in my
direction.  He came crashing through the bushes, and charged directly
at me.  I was fortunate enough to be able to bring him
down--fortunate in more ways than one, as he would have brought me
down with a vengeance if I had not done so."

CHAPTER VI.

A DISPUTED PRIZE--RULE OF AFRICAN HUNTING--MRS. ROBERTS.

"I congratulate you," said the fair stranger; "but how are you
certain that it was the buffalo I fired at?"

I explained that my tracker had examined the animal and found the
wound in the shoulder, as already described.  I then mentioned the
rule of the chase, of which the reader knows, and told the lady that
I surrendered all claim to the prize.  As I did so I said, again
raising my hat, "I presume I have the honor of addressing Mrs.
Roberts?"

"I am Mrs. Roberts," she replied, with a smile; "but how did you know
me?"

I explained briefly about my meeting with Miss Boland, and that she
informed me of the name of her hunting-companion and the location of
their camp, or, at least, its general direction.  The lady appeared
somewhat surprised, though not altogether so, and I was unable to
make out from her manner whether Miss Boland had told her about
encountering me in the forest, or had failed to mention the matter in
any way.

I then told her my name and where our party was encamped.  I offered
to conduct her to the spot where her buffalo had met his death, and
she assented to the proposition.  Her gun-bearer was close at her
heels, just as Kalil was close to mine.  I told Mirogo to lead the
way, and he and the other tracker showed the direction, keeping a
short distance in our front.  I was in no hurry to reach the spot,
but thought my companion was quite willing to have the interview come
to an end as soon as convenient.  We conversed on hunting-topics, and
altogether the conversation was an agreeable one, at least to me.

In all her talk the lady bore herself very modestly, and seemed
inclined to give the credit of superior hunting-ability to Miss
Boland.  She magnified the exploits of her companion and depreciated
those of herself.

"Miss Boland," said she, "is a fine hunter in the saddle, which I am
not.  It is about as much as I can do to attend to the horse and keep
on his back, to say nothing of loading a rifle while going at full
speed, or dismounting to take a shot.  A few days ago," said she, "we
chased a herd of elands.  Miss Boland brought down the leader of the
herd; she had a hard ride for it, and I thought she would have to
give it up; but she stuck to it until she got right alongside the
eland, and shot him from the saddle.  I brought up the rear a good
distance away, and did not get near enough for a shot with the
longest-range rifle that ever was made.  It is proper to say, though,
that Miss Boland had a much better horse than I had; it isn't
possible to get the speed out of my animal that she can out of hers.
We started out on our expedition with three horses apiece, but we've
lost one of them, and two others are not in serviceable condition."

"You haven't been in the tsetse-fly country, have you?" I asked.

"No, we haven't as yet," she answered, "and we're deliberating
whether to go there or not.  We have been told that there's some fine
buffalo-hunting up in the fly country, and want to go there; but of
course if we do we must leave our horses behind, or be put to the
pain of seeing them die."

I may as well explain to the reader that the tsetse-fly is one of the
scourges of certain parts of Africa.  It is about the size of the
common house-fly, or a little larger, and is harmless to horned
cattle and donkeys, and also harmless to the human race; but, to use
a slang expression, it is "death on horses."  The bite of a
tsetse-fly causes the death of a horse in a very short time; the skin
swells enormously, great festering sores follow, and no remedy has
yet been found for the bite.  The valleys of certain rivers and lakes
are infested with these flies, while other parts of the country are
entirely free from them.  Sometimes they are found on one side of a
river but not on the other, and the alternations of heat and cold do
not seem to have any effect in driving them away.

We had quite a talk about the flies, and speculated as to the reason
why some animals were attacked and others exempt.  Other travelers
have speculated on the same subject before and since, but I presume
their investigations had no more practical result than ours did.

"Our foreman told us," said Mrs. Roberts, "that up in the fly country
there were great herds of buffaloes--thousands of animals in a
herd--and that this was about the time for attacking them.  I don't
think we are quite equal to one of the large herds, but after the
other hunters have gone in and broken them up we might attack some of
the stragglers."

I was able to tell the lady something about that style of hunting, as
I had been engaged in it the previous year.  "A party of us formed a
camp on a little stream called the Gumban; then we sent out native
hunters in all directions to visit the drinking-places of the
buffaloes, find the large troops of the animals, and break them up.
The buffaloes form into these troops in the summer and get broken up
in the winter by the hunters.  We were lucky enough to find one of
the largest troops, which was known to the natives as the
'dust-raiser.'  It was several days before we struck the herd, but
when we did we had lively work.  My first experience with one of that
herd was something to remember."

"I would like very much to hear about it," said Mrs. Roberts, "if you
have no objection to telling me."

"Oh, not at all," I replied; "on the contrary, it will give me great
pleasure.  It was a very brief affair, as I came suddenly upon the
animal when he was standing under a tree.  I was not aware that any
buffalo was about, and was carrying a rifle loaded for koodoo.  My
gun-bearer was behind me with my large rifle, and I quickly exchanged
one for the other.  I took a shot at the buffalo, but it was not
sufficient to bring him down.  He turned and charged upon me; I
dodged behind a tree, and as he went past and was turning to come
back at me I gave him a second shot which laid him low.

"Half an hour after that," said I, "I met my friend Harry, who was of
our hunting-party, and when he caught sight of me he came forward on
a run.  He said he had wounded a buffalo and it had retreated into a
very disagreeable place--into a thorn-thicket, where it was not easy
to follow.  He proposed that we should get on opposite sides of the
thicket--which was not very large--and then send our trackers in to
drive the animal out.

"I had a quiet laugh to myself," I continued, "because I saw a very
large defect in his scheme.  The thicket was not far off, and we went
to it; but when Harry suggested that the trackers should go inside
they demurred emphatically.  There was a tall tree at the side of the
thicket, and I proposed that Harry should climb that tree with the
aid of his tracker, and from that point he would be able to see his
game; I would stand at the foot of a tree at the opposite side of the
thicket, and be prepared to meet the animal in case it came out at
that point.

"Harry acted according to my suggestion, and after reaching an
elevation of about thirty feet he called out that he could see the
buffalo distinctly.  Then he gave it a shot, and it looked around
very much surprised, not knowing whence it was assaulted.  Another
shot followed, and then the beast made a break outside the thicket
close to my position.  I managed to lay it low, and then I shouted to
Harry that he could descend from his perch."

"I've been telling Miss Boland," said Mrs. Roberts, "that a good way
to shoot buffaloes--certainly a safe way--would be to climb a tree
and shoot from a secure place in the limbs.  She answers me that it
is not a fair way of fighting, and nowhere near as exciting as the
way in which the buffalo is usually hunted.  I presume she is right;
in fact, I know she is.  She is braver than I am, and takes risks in
hunting that I am unwilling to take."

"I don't think there can be any question of your bravery, Mrs.
Roberts," I replied, "after what I have seen this morning.  You
certainly took your chances with that buffalo, and I'll warrant
you've done the same before.  You have dodged behind trees and
perhaps have climbed them, just as many a man has done in this
African shooting."

"Oh yes," she said, with a laugh, "I'm not by any means without
experience in hunting-risks, only I think it would be just as well
for all of us if we consulted our safety a little more, and had some
regard for the possibilities of getting back to our homes in due
course of time."

"Very few people think of safety when they set out on a
hunting-excursion," I replied.  "Of course they consider the question
a little when face to face with big game, and I don't think there
would be any difference between men and women on that score.  A cool
head is requisite at all times, and any one who cannot command that
should not venture into the hunting-field where the quarry is a
dangerous one."

"I agree with you there," the lady responded, "and that's where our
sex is decidedly at a disadvantage."

"How so?" I asked, with an air of wonder and surprise.

"Oh, you know perfectly well," said she, "that it's a habit of women
to faint in presence of danger, and what would become of a fainting
woman before an infuriated buffalo or elephant?  I'm afraid it would
be her last hunt."

"Yes, I am afraid of that too," I replied; "but I think you do
injustice to your sex.  Women generally faint after the danger is
over, if they faint at all; as long as the peril is present they are
as nervy as the sterner sex.  Of course that's not the invariable
rule, but I think it's so in the majority of cases."

"Thank you for the compliment," she answered; "perhaps we'll have a
chance to discuss this subject further.  Here we are at your buffalo."

"I beg pardon, madam; not my buffalo--your buffalo."

"Oh now," she answered, "I think it belongs to you; never mind about
the rule of South African hunting, as the animal had escaped me
entirely, and I should never have seen it again or heard from it but
for you.  You had a narrow risk of your life when you brought it
down."

I insisted that the animal was her prize, and that it was not proper
to violate the laws of the country.  "There isn't much law here," I
added, "except that of custom, and nothing can be more binding than
an established rule."

"Well, if you insist upon it," she replied, "rather than violate the
practice of the country I will accept the prize as mine, and in doing
so I thank you most heartily for the share you took in obtaining it
for me.  Perhaps I may have the pleasure of returning the service
some time--no, stop! it isn't fair to suppose that you ever miss a
shot, and consequently I should never have the opportunity."

"There never yet was a hunter," I answered--"at least I've never
heard of one--who was invariably successful in his pursuit of game,
especially of large game.  Even such mighty nimrods as Gordon
Cumming, Sir Samuel Baker, and others whose names you know, have many
stories to tell of game that escaped, not only after one, but after
many bullets."

"That's true," she replied; "and I remember how Cumming returned on
several occasions after an entire day in pursuit of elephants without
securing a single one.  Instead of being disheartened at the result
it only nerved him to further exertion, and he persisted in the chase
until he had made a good record."

Then, suddenly looking at the sky, the fair hunter asked me if I
could give a guess as to what time it was.  I may remark that it is
not customary to carry a watch in one's pocket when out after
buffaloes or elephants; the African hunter generally takes his time
by the position of the sun or by rough-and-tumble guesswork.

"I think it is along in the neighborhood of noon," I
answered--"certainly within an hour of it."

"Thank you, thank you very much," she responded; then she paused and
surveyed the horns of her prize, and seemed to forget my presence
entirely.

I took this as a hint that I had better be going; so, raising my hat,
I said, "I bid you good-day, madam, and hope I may have the pleasure
of meeting you again, and possibly of helping secure for you another
prize like this."

CHAPTER VII.

  STALKING A KOODOO--HARRY AND JACK AMONG ELANDS--CAUGHT
  IN A PITFALL.

I was bowing myself away when Mrs. Roberts, with a gracious smile,
said:

"I am greatly pleased to have met you, and if it should be in your
way to pass near our encampment it would give us pleasure to see you."

I thanked her for the invitation, and said it would give me pleasure
to accept it.  Then I made my adieus and turned back to the tree
where I had separated from Harry and Jack, they going in pursuit of
the elands and I starting out on foot for buffaloes.

Mirogo sent the Kafirs to skin both the buffaloes and bring in the
horns and tongue of the big one and the meat of the yearling.  The
Kafirs reported that Harry and Jack had disappeared in pursuit of the
elands; the last seen of them they had crossed a ridge to the south
three or four miles away.  I knew they would have a long ride for it,
and if I set out in pursuit it would be a good while before I could
overtake them.  Away to the east, half a mile or so, the Kafirs
reported some koodoos, and I thought it would be a good plan to stalk
them.  So, leaving Mirogo and Kalil behind, I took my small rifle,
with a beltful of ammunition suited to it, and away I started.

There is an old saying that you do not hunt ducks with a brass band,
and you do not hunt koodoo with a tracker and a gun-bearer.  Like all
animals of the antelope kind, the koodoo is very shy and also very
sharp-sighted.  To stalk him you must do a great deal of creeping on
the ground, and take advantage of every bush, tree, rock, ant-hill,
or anything else that rises more than six inches from the ground.  It
is far easier to approach an elephant than a koodoo; in fact, it is a
complete science to be an accomplished hunter of this animal or any
of his African kindred.  One of each herd is generally on the watch,
and they seem to select him for his superior eyesight, hearing, and
powers of smelling.  You must study the wind down to a single point
of the compass, take your bearings with the utmost care, and then
creep along very much as a cat creeps after a mouse before she makes
her spring.  If the animals see you there is no use following them;
turn right about, go in the contrary direction, and circle around
until you come in on the opposite side, provided the wind will permit
you to do so.

I have heard old hunters say that they were perfectly satisfied if
they got one good chance in a day to shoot a koodoo.  Knowing this,
the reader will understand how anxious I was to succeed in my hunt,
and that I was willing to put myself to a great deal of inconvenience
and trouble in the hope of bagging my game.

The ground was quite open where the koodoos were, but within half a
mile of them there was a stretch of scattered bushes.  I made for
these bushes till I got around a point that was nearest to the herd
and also was off-wind, and then I began the snake and cat business to
my best abilities.  I utilized every little obstruction on the
ground, and when there was none I dragged myself along by means of my
elbows, pushing my gun in front of me and taking care not to get dirt
in the muzzle of it.  There were perhaps a dozen koodoos in the herd,
and one fine old buck was posted as sentinel.  He kept turning slowly
around, surveying all points of the compass; and whenever his head
was in my direction I lay as still as the ground on which I rested.
When he turned away I slipped forward a length or two, and sometimes,
by great good fortune, half a dozen lengths.

The sun was hot--not only hot, but blazingly so.  Whenever my hand
touched the ironwork of my gun it seemed as if it would raise a
blister; and with my back exposed to the rays of the orb of day, I
felt as though I were standing before the furnace of an iron-foundry.
The perspiration poured out of me, and had it not been for my
determination to bag a koodoo I should have abandoned the chase and
gone back to camp.

It was not only the heat that came near breaking me up on that hunt,
but a snake, and a poisonous one at that.  As I was dragging myself
along over the ground, imagine my horror at seeing a serpent about
six feet long lying directly in front of me and not more than three
yards away!  I came very near springing up and jumping backward,
which of course would have ended the koodoo-hunt then and there; but
I restrained myself.  My next thought was to shoot the reptile, but
to do so would have been equally fatal to my sport.

After a moment of thought--and it was only a moment--I adopted the
tactics of the crab, and moved backward.  I did not turn around, as I
wanted to keep my face in the direction of his snakeship, who seemed
to be asleep and sunning himself.  I backed away three or four yards
and then made a detour around my unpleasant neighbor, sufficiently
far away from him not to disturb his slumbers.

I was afraid of coming on more snakes, but luckily that was the only
one I encountered.  He was what is known as a mamba, and is found in
various parts of South Africa.  The one I saw was a small one; we
killed a snake of this kind one day under our wagon, and when he was
stretched out on the grass he measured about eleven feet in length.
Mambas of ten or twelve feet are by no means uncommon.  Their bite is
poisonous; dogs bitten by them die within an hour or two, and the
same is the case with small animals.  Human beings live longer, but
the bite of one of these serpents is almost sure to be fatal.  Some
of the native tribes have a superstitious reverence for them, and do
not kill them; but the majority of Africans generally try to despatch
them if they can.

The herd of koodoos gradually fed around in my direction, so that
they were between me and the sentinel.  I wanted to bag him, but of
course their position rendered it impossible.  I had had my eye on
him for some time, and when the rest of them got around toward where
I was I thought of the Irishman who gave as his excuse for not firing
at a flock of ducks, "Whenever I get a bead on one, another swims
right in between him and me!"

I singled out the best buck of the herd and stalked up to within
forty yards of him.  Then, when he presented a good broadside, I let
him have it, and brought him to the ground.  He was up almost in an
instant, and so was I; and I gave him another shot, which again
floored him, this time for good.  I ran forward and plunged my
hunting-knife into his throat to make sure that he did not escape me.
Of course the others were off like the wind, but I paid no attention
to them; my thirst for glory was satisfied for that day.

The men had been watching me from the tree where I left my horse.
The report of the gun, the smoke, and my handkerchief, which I waved
in the air, brought them, and with them my horse Brickdust, which was
led along at a slow trot by the Kafir who had charge of him.  I
mounted and rode to camp, while the Kafirs attended to skinning the
koodoo and bringing in the meat.

Harry and Jack had not reached camp when I got there, and they did
not return until nearly sunset.  They had good luck in their chase of
the elands, Harry shooting one and Jack bringing down two.  Harry's
was the largest of the three, and consequently he claimed that the
honors were about even.  They had a lively chase after them, and by
the time they got through their horses were pretty well used up.

"In two or three places," said Harry, "we came near breaking our
necks in pitfalls that the Kafirs had made for game; and in one
instance if it had not been for the intelligence of my horse I should
have gone headlong into a hole about eight feet deep.  The horse saw
the hole before I did, and swerved quickly to one side; if we had
gone full speed into that pitfall I am afraid it would have been all
over with both horse and rider."

These native pitfalls are oftentimes a great nuisance and also a
great danger to the hunter.  The natives dig them in localities where
the animals are apt to run, and consequently they are right in the
way which a hunter takes when he is pursuing a herd.  Sometimes the
pitfalls are open, and strung along in connection with one another
for a considerable distance.  The natives surround a herd on three
sides and then drive it in the direction of the traps.  If an animal
tumbles in he cannot get out, and is easily speared or otherwise
slaughtered by his captors.

One day, while I was stalking a herd of gemsbok, I walked plump into
a pitfall that was seven feet deep.  The hole had been covered over
with bushes, grass, and a sprinkling of earth, so that it looked for
all the world like the ground in its immediate vicinity.  I was
sneaking along, bent nearly to the ground, with my eye on the game
ahead of me, when suddenly I felt the earth give way, and it seemed
as though I was dropping half-way to the other side of the world.  I
fetched up at the bottom all in a heap and half stunned.  When I
gathered myself up and rubbed my eyes I found that my gun was lying
on the bottom of the pit with the muzzle directly toward me and both
locks at full cock!

My hair had been standing on end when I brought myself up to a
sitting posture; when I saw my gun and its position every individual
hair on my head was frozen stiff!

There was a native kraal not very far from where my friends killed
their elands, and of course the people came out to share in the
spoils.  Whenever a hunt of any kind is in progress, if there are any
Kafirs or Zulus about they are sure to come, partly out of curiosity
to see the sport, but more particularly to eat up any trifle of game
that may be left over.  It was so in this case.  My friends selected
the cuts that they wanted from the animals, and hired some of the
people to bring them to camp.  The rest was turned over to the crowd
and disposed of in short order.  As a general thing these natives do
not take the trouble to carry the game to their kraals, especially if
they are a long way off, but they build a fire on the spot, sit down,
and begin their feast.

The jackals and hyenas come around and hang about at a respectful
distance, waiting for what is left over.  By the time the natives are
through the jackals and hyenas have pretty poor picking, unless the
quantity of game is very large and the number of people small.  A
dozen or twenty natives will get away with the best part of a
fair-sized buffalo; after they have eaten their fill they lie down
and rest until there is space for a little more, when they rise and
resume eating.

With the natives of South Africa it is generally a feast or a famine,
and I may also remark that it is very much the same with a hunter:
there are days in camp when his supply of food is more than he knows
what to do with, and these are preceded or followed by days when his
stomach is well-nigh empty, if not entirely so.

After my friends had told their experience of the day I narrated
mine.  Something put it into my head to say nothing about my
encounter with amazon No. 2, and so I avoided all allusion to the
subject.  I thought I would keep the whole matter to myself until I
had visited the camp of the ladies and made their acquaintance; but
Harry spoiled my game by driving me into a corner where it was
necessary to lie outright or "acknowledge the corn."

"By the way, Frank," said he, as we had finished our stories, "did
you see anything of our neighbors, the women, about whom you told us?"

"Oh yes," I replied, "I was coming to that."  (Fact is, I was not
coming to it at all.)

"Well, what about it?" queried Harry.  "Did you see either or both of
them, or did you happen on their camp?"

Then I told what the reader knows, though really I told the story
much more briefly than I have elsewhere given it.  I merely remarked
that I met the one who called herself Mrs. Roberts, and killed a
buffalo which she had wounded.

"Oho!" said Harry, and Jack said "Oho!" at the same time.

"Well, what's the meaning of 'Oho!' I'd like to know?"

"It means," said Jack, "that you seem to have struck a streak of
luck; in two days you run across both of them and make yourself
agreeable.  Did she invite you to call on them?"

"Yes," I answered, "in a civil sort of way; didn't appear as if she
cared whether I called or not."

"Well, probably she didn't," said Harry; "but she couldn't very well
avoid doing so after you'd killed a buffalo for her.  One must show a
little appreciation of courtesy even in South Africa.  I suppose
you'll call?"

CHAPTER VIII.

  AFRICAN HORSE-SICKNESS--TWO NARROW ESCAPES IN
  ELEPHANT-HUNTING--JACK AND HIS HORSE.

"That's a very natural supposition," I replied; "of course I shall.
After being here in this country for weeks without hearing a feminine
voice or seeing a white woman's face, any one who calls himself a man
would gladly accept an invitation like that.  I shall certainly drop
in at their camp the first time I'm that way."

"Yes, and you'll make it your way very soon," said Jack; "I would if
it were my case."

"Are we in it at all?" said Harry.  "Did your invitation include your
friends?"

"Not as yet," said I, "but I presume it will in due course of time.
At any rate, when I do visit their camp I'll mention you, as I have
already, and will give you good characters--that is, as good as I
can."

"Thank you," said Jack; "and we'll promise when our turn comes that
we'll sound your praises."

We had a little more good-natured raillery on this subject, and just
as it ended we were called out to look at one of the horses, which
had gone sick.  He showed every symptom of the horse-disease peculiar
to South Africa, which has carried away so many animals of greater or
less value.  When a horse sickens it is necessary to bleed him
freely, and if this is done in time he may be saved.  One of the most
trying things to a hunter in Africa is the loss of his horses,
whether by the African disease or the tsetse-fly.  The latter can be
avoided by keeping away from the country where the fly abounds, but
no amount of caution can avoid the former.  Horses that have had the
disease and have recovered are said to be "salted," and are much more
valuable than those that have not passed through it.  Having had it
once, they are not altogether exempt from it, like a child with the
measles and other infantile maladies, but they are far less liable to
a second attack than they were to the first.

After the incident of the horse we sat down to supper, which
consisted principally of a stew made of the koodoo that I killed, and
the tongues of the elands broiled over coals of thorn-bushes, the
whole washed down with coffee, and a thimbleful of brandy at the end.
Then came our pipes and a chat about what we had best do the next day.

Our Kafirs reported a small herd of elephants three or four miles to
the eastward.  They were sighted along in the afternoon, and as they
had not been disturbed at all it was thought they would remain where
they were until the next day.  We decided that we would go in pursuit
of them, making an early start, so as to get the most of the hunt
over before the great heat of the day.

In the morning we sent off the trackers an hour or so before we
started ourselves, with directions to make out the position of the
herd, so that we should lose no time in getting to work.  We followed
on horseback, and when we had accomplished about two thirds of the
distance to the forest we met a Kafir who had been sent back by
Mirogo to tell us that the elephants were there.  At the edge of the
forest we dismounted, leaving our horses in charge of the men, under
the shade of a large tree which was about a quarter of a mile from
the woodland where the elephants were.  Harry and Jack were posted on
opposite sides of the forest, while I went into the wood, accompanied
by Mirogo and Kalil.  I had my two heaviest rifles, and was prepared
to do good work if the opportunity offered.

The scheme was for me to do the best I could while among the trees;
of course my first shot would alarm the entire herd, and as the
forest was not large they would be pretty sure to run out of it.
Harry and Jack were to take shots at them, if possible, from their
points of concealment, and then signal for their horses to be
brought, and pursue the big game on horseback over the open country.
I was to come out of the wood as soon as whatever work I could do
there was accomplished, and follow the example of my friends; that
is, mount my horse and chase the herd.

It was not long after entering the forest before Mirogo, who was
leading, came upon the spoor of the elephants.  It was evident there
was a number of them--all the way from five or six to twice as
many--and the spoor showed that they were animals of the first class
so far as size was concerned.

There was no difficulty in following the spoor, as the herd made
quite a track through the underbrush, and so facilitated my movements
a good deal.  In a little while we heard the crashing of bushes and
the usual noise that an elephant makes when he is feeding or
leisurely proceeding through a wooded country.  We hurried along
cautiously, and presently I caught sight of a bull with a magnificent
pair of tusks.

Before I could get a shot at the fellow or any of his companions
something disturbed them.  What it was I did not know; perhaps they
caught our wind from some direction, or, the herd being a little
scattered, they may have caught the wind from the parties outside the
forest and passed the signal along from one to another.  They made
trumpet-calls to indicate some sort of elephant-talk, and then they
seemed to huddle together, as nearly as I could make out, for a
consultation.  At all events, they got out of my sight, and very soon
I heard them crashing out of the woods at a great rate.

I knew it was useless to follow on foot, and so made my way back
again out of the forest to where the Kafirs were holding the horses.

I had just reached the tree where my horse was when I saw the
elephants coming out and making across the open country for another
patch of forest three or four miles away.  There were four
bull-elephants and five or six cows; the bulls were magnificent
fellows and the cows by no means an ordinary lot.  I was nearer to
the herd than either Jack or Harry, and that gave me choice of the
beasts.  I singled out the largest of the bulls and gave chase.

Ranging my horse up alongside I gave him a couple of bullets just
back of the shoulder, aiming wild, of course, as the horse was at a
gallop and there was no time to dismount.  After the second bullet he
turned and stood facing me, as if undecided what to do.  Then he came
on with a terrific charge, and I wheeled the horse very quickly to
avoid him.

After that he continued on his journey after the rest of the herd,
and I followed him and gave him another dose.  This brought the
elephant around again, and as he came about I determined to give him
a ball in the chest; and this time I put in the gun a cartridge with
an explosive ball, which would certainly astonish him, at any rate.

When I raised my gun for the purpose of firing, the horse tossed his
head and prevented me from taking aim.  While I was trying to pacify
him the bull came on, and I fired at random.  I evidently did not hit
the elephant at all; I aimed directly over the horse's head, and
think the bullet must have come disagreeably near to his ear, as he
gave a sudden jerk to one side, which threw the near rein over on the
off side and unfastened the curb-chain, the bit turning right around
in his mouth.

Here was a pretty predicament, and if there had been time for
reflection I should have regretted that I ever came to Africa to hunt
elephants or other big game.  The great brute was not fifty feet away
from me, with his trunk elevated in the air, his immense ears
flapping, and his trumpet sounding in the most vicious manner.  I had
no control over the horse on account of the position of the reins and
bit, and so I dug the spurs into his side to get a move on him
someway.

The horse went straight for the elephant, and I thought it would be
the end of the animal and his rider.  I leaned over as far as
possible on the side farthest from the elephant, and as I went by him
his trunk was within six feet of me.  I drove the spurs into the
horse, and on he went for fifty yards or so, where we brought up
against three small trees that stood in a sort of triangle.  We got
through these trees, but I was nearly dragged from the horse in so
doing, and it is a wonder that I was able to hold on to my gun.  I
clung, however, to the gun and the reins, and on we went, jumping
over thorn-bushes, and through a tangled sort of thicket, and over
ground full of holes.

The horse was nearly down several times, and I narrowly escaped being
pitched overhead, as the ground was very heavy and not at all adapted
to a promenade on horseback.

All this time the elephant was close after us and generally not more
than ten or twenty yards behind us.  I got clear of him by moving in
circles, guiding the horse as well as possible by pressing on his
neck and encouraging him in every way I could.  When one is chased by
an elephant the best way of escape is by doubling on him; he cannot
turn quickly, and there is where you have him at a disadvantage.

As soon as there was a chance to pull up I jumped off the horse,
arranged the bridle, and mounted again to pursue my elephant, who was
moving in the direction the herd had taken.  I came up to him and
renewed the hostilities, giving him in all ten shots, and being
charged three times, the last time for fully half a mile.  Then I
gave him an explosive bullet right between the eye and ear, and he
came to the ground.  My horse was completely blown by that time, and
as for myself, I was ready to drop with exhaustion.  It was one of
the hardest chases I ever had after an elephant, and I do not know of
one on which I had a closer call.

Harry and Jack went in pursuit of the herd soon after I singled out
my prize.  Harry said that he got up so close to one that the horse's
nose almost touched him, Harry's intention being to watch a favorable
moment, come around to the elephant's side, and give him a shot
there.  It is very little use shooting at an elephant's rear, as
there is nothing but a great mass of flesh there; several ounces of
lead deposited in it make no particular difference in the animal's
movements.  Suddenly his elephant turned to see who it was that was
accompanying him; this gave a chance for a broadside, which Harry
embraced, planting a bullet in the beast's shoulder.  Harry dropped
back again to reload, and then followed up through a mass of tall
bushes that concealed the animal from sight.  He dashed on to
overtake the elephant, and came near being caught by his antagonist.

The elephant had stopped in a place where the path turned suddenly,
and Harry was almost under his trunk before he saw him.  The bull
trumpeted furiously and made a terrific charge.  The horse whirled
instantly, but Harry drove the spurs into him, when the two went
through a mass of thorn and other bushes that they would not have
dreamed of venturing into at any other time.  Harry's encounter with
the bushes was very evident when he turned up, as his clothes were
torn in shreds and his flesh was gashed and scratched in many places;
half the skin was torn from his hands, and he was not at all a
presentable object for a drawing-room; and, besides, he lost his
elephant!

Jack was more fortunate, for he bagged his elephant--one of the
bulls--and had about as lively a time in getting him as I had with
mine.  In some respects it was livelier, as he was pitched from his
horse while the elephant was chasing him, and the great beast
actually passed within two feet of where Jack was lying at the side
of the path.  The horse caught his foot in a hole and stumbled,
throwing his rider to the ground; he was up on his feet in an instant
and off to one side, while Jack crawled or rolled out of the path
along which the elephant was coming.  The animal had such a momentum
that he could not stop, and after getting by he seemed to regard the
horse as his principal assailant and followed him for a hundred yards
or so.  Then he gave up the chase and proceeded in the direction of
his companions.

Jack's horse was a wonderfully docile creature; when the elephant
ceased following him he stopped and waited for his master's call.
Jack whistled, and the intelligent animal ran to him at once.  My
friend gathered up his gun, remounted, and was immediately off like
the wind in pursuit of his tusker, which he soon laid low.

We spent the evening in telling the stories of our adventures during
the day and laying our plans for the morrow.  What they were the
reader will learn in the next chapter.

CHAPTER IX.

  A MORNING CALL IN SOUTH AFRICA--LADIES AT HOME--HOW MISS
  BOLAND KILLED A LION.

It was decided that we would go in pursuit of a herd of buffaloes
which was reported to be in the locality where I met our amazonian
rivals in the hunting-field.  It is hardly necessary to say that the
buffaloes were not the only attraction that drew us in that direction.

We were off in good season after breakfast, and accompanied by the
usual party of followers.  We went on horse-back, and--for the
benefit of the buffaloes, of course--we had our clothing carefully
dusted and our hair arranged as much after the style of London or New
York as is possible for a hunter in South African wilds.  It may not
make any difference to a buffalo how the person who kills him is
habited and groomed, and up to this time we had given very little
thought to the subject; now our views were materially changed, and
one of my friends suggested that it was a pity we had not brought our
dress suits along.

Our attendants were off a good half-hour ahead of us.  We mounted our
horses and followed the same general course that we had taken on our
last buffalo and eland hunt.  When we reached the ground where the
buffaloes were said to be, Harry and Jack went in pursuit of them,
while I held my course farther to the westward, where the Kafirs said
the hunting-women were encamped.

The forenoon is not fashionable calling-time in London or New York,
but people are not so particular in South Africa.  If one does not
make it too early a forenoon call is just as proper here as an
afternoon one.  Of course if it is not convenient to see the caller
when he arrives he can be put off with the polite fiction, "Not at
home," just as easily in one part of the world as in another.

I did not have any card to send in, and when I came in sight of the
camp I sent forward my after-rider to announce that Mr. Manson was
coming.  The after-rider went in at a gallop, thus drawing general
attention upon himself and evoking a great deal of noise from several
dogs that belonged to the outfit.  It was certainly enough to rouse
the camp and make everybody in it aware that a visitor was
approaching.

When I rode up to the kraal the after-rider informed me that the
ladies were at home and would see me presently.  I dismounted and
looked about the kraal while waiting.  The camp seemed very well
arranged, and I was obliged to admit to myself that the appearance of
things about it was much more orderly than that of our own.  The
kraal was constructed of palisades and large thorn-bushes, the whole
forming a fence about ten feet high, and with an outwork of
thorn-bushes sufficient to deter the approach of the most
enterprising lion or other African beast.

One end of the kraal was fenced off and contained the wagons and
tents; the rest of the space was assigned to the cattle when they
were driven in at night, and also to the huts of the natives who
formed a part of the expedition.  The entrance-way was sufficiently
large to admit of free ingress and egress during the daytime; at
night it was securely closed, so that coming in or going out was a
matter of no small moment.  Before passage could be obtained the mass
of material blocking the entrance had to be removed, and consequently
it was necessary for every one to be inside the kraal when the gate
was closed for the night.

An intelligent Dutch Boer joined me soon after I dismounted, and
entered into conversation.  He was the foreman or manager of the
expedition, and confidentially told me that he had been up-country a
good many times, but never before with women.  He said their trip had
been very pleasant thus far and the ladies seemed to be enjoying
themselves.  "They haven't killed a great deal of game," said he,
"but much more than I expected they would.  Women don't go hunting in
this part of the world," he remarked, "except for antelope and some
other small things; but I've heard they do so sometimes in other
countries."

I made an evasive reply to this remark, which seemed to be put in the
form of an inquiry.  While not saying so, I left him to infer that it
was the most ordinary thing in the world for women to go on
hunting-expeditions in the country I came from, and the size of the
game made no difference to the hunters.

Then he told me of some of the difficulties of their march thus far,
and he dwelt on the fact that they had repeatedly been short of fresh
provisions.  He did not say for what reason, but I readily guessed
that he meant because his fair employers were not as diligent or
skilful in obtaining game as male hunters usually are.  In an African
expedition the hunters are expected to keep a supply of food on hand
by the active use of their weapons, and with the various attendants
attached to the caravan a good deal of shooting is required.

Fifteen or twenty minutes after my arrival a servant came to ask me
to step into the tent, or rather into one of the tents.  I followed
him and was ushered into a very comfortable dwelling of canvas, which
evidently served as dining-room, parlor, reception-room, library, and
the like.

Mrs. Roberts was the only occupant of the place, and she greeted me
cordially.  A circular table was in the middle of the tent, cut in
halves, so that it could be placed against the center-pole.  Four
iron camp-chairs afforded seating-facilities, and some boxes and
trunks around the outer edge of the tent would accommodate others in
case of a rush of visitors.  The floor was spread with skins and
rugs, and it was elevated somewhat above the ground outside, in order
to keep off dampness as much as possible.  Before entering the tent I
observed that a ditch had been dug around it and a drain led off to
one side--a very wise precaution in South Africa, especially in the
season when rains are not infrequent.

The hostess said that Miss Boland would join us in a few minutes.
"We were intending," said she, "to go on a hunt to-day, but were out
yesterday, and when breakfast was served we concluded to put off our
excursion until afternoon.  I am very glad we did so, as it has given
us the pleasure of a call from you."

I bowed my acknowledgments and assured her that my pleasure at their
abandonment of their morning excursion was quite as great as their
own.  I added that I hoped they had excellent luck the day before.

"We were not very fortunate yesterday," she replied.  "We went out
into the open country in pursuit of elands, koodoo, or anything else
we could find there.  I am frank to say that I bagged nothing, while
Miss Boland was fortunate enough to bring down an eland and a
hartbeest.  She had a sharp ride for the eland, and stalked the
hartbeest.  The ground was very favorable for stalking, and she
approached him with comparative ease.  I tried a little stalking at
the same time, but the animals took fright and ran away before I
could get within range.  I told you I was not much of a hunter and
that the honors of our expedition belonged to Miss Boland.  Here she
comes."

As Miss Boland entered the tent I rose and was cordially greeted.
The manners of the two ladies suggested that they certainly had not
taken offense at my treatment of them at our first meeting in the
forest.  They looked far less like hunters than at the time I first
saw them, as their hunting-costumes had been replaced by the morning
wrapper of civilized femininity.  I took a sly glance in search of
the powder and other facial adornments which also belong to civilized
life, but could not discover traces of anything of the kind.  Their
faces were a ruddy brown, and evidently the women had no fears that
the climate of South Africa would spoil their complexions; in fact,
they were allowing the complexions to take care of themselves, while
enjoying the pleasures of a hunter's life.

We had a general conversation on hunting and other topics, which it
is unnecessary to repeat.  In fact, I would find it impossible to
write a verbatim report of what was said during my visit.  I was
impressed with the enthusiasm which these women showed for their
semi-wild life, and also with the care they had taken to provide
themselves with as many of the comforts of civilization as it was
possible to bring along.  They had a chestful of books, most of them
relating to the country they were in or the sports which attracted
them, and they had not forgotten to bring along a quantity of novels
and miscellaneous matter, such as one does not often find in the
outfit of an African hunter.  They offered me several works of
fiction which they were through with, both having read them.  I
accepted their offer, as we were short of literature in our camp, and
the books were quickly made into a parcel and handed over to my
after-rider.

I remained there perhaps half an hour.  As I rose to go they urged me
to remain longer, just as is always the case in fashionable society,
no matter how much the host may wish for the visitor's departure.  I
explained that my companions were hunting buffaloes in the locality
where I had the pleasure of meeting the two ladies, and that they
expected me to join them.  This led to my explaining who my
companions were and also to a further explanation as to myself.

"You already know," I said, "that my name is Frank Manson.  I am from
New York, and take pride in saying that my father is one of the
prominent citizens of that metropolis of the western world.  After my
graduation from college I was taken, into my father's law-office and
expected in due course of time to become his partner and successor.
My health became impaired and it was decided that I should take a
year or two of active outdoor life.  I had read the books of Gordon
Cumming, Baldwin, and other South African hunters, and it did not
take me long to make up my mind to visit this part of the world and
take my active outdoor life in pursuit of South African game.

"When I reached the Cape I made the acquaintance of two young men who
had come, the one from London and the other from Glasgow, with the
same objects in view as myself.  Jack Delafield is the son of a
wealthy manufacturer in Scotland, and Harry Lawrence is the son of a
London merchant, also reputed wealthy.  They are bright, interesting
fellows, and it did not take us long to form a partnership in a
hunting-enterprise.  They are my two companions, and we have had a
royal good time together."

Mrs. Roberts said that she would certainly be pleased to meet the
gentlemen, and Miss Boland acquiesced in the suggestion.  I observed
that Mrs. Roberts seemed to be in the position of chaperon to the
younger woman; the initiative in everything was taken by the former,
but whether this was accidental or otherwise I was unable to say at
that time.

"Would it please you," I asked, "to visit our camp, on any day and
hour that you choose, where you can see our hunting-outfit and meet
my two companions?"

The ladies looked from one to the other, and I decorously turned my
attention to the opposite side of the tent, so that they could
express approval or disapproval to each other without coming under my
eye.  I fastened my gaze on a gun-case, and not only my gaze, but my
hands, whereupon Miss Boland remarked:

"That's my favorite gun--a Winchester.  I have two or three other
kinds, but that's the one I prefer above all others and carry more
frequently than any other."  Then she stepped forward, deftly opened
the case, and took out the weapon.

It was, as she said, a Winchester, and one of the best of its kind.
I remarked that I was familiar with the gun, as we had four of that
pattern in our outfit.  Of course this led to a brief dissertation on
the merits of the Winchester, in which Miss Boland grew quite
enthusiastic over the rapid firing qualities of the weapon.

"I never appreciated the Winchester so much," said she, "as when I
killed my first lion with it.  He was a grand old brute, one of the
largest of his race.  He had been prowling around the camp at night,
and once, when the moon was bright, I went out determined to shoot
him.  We had put a bait out for him just on the edge of a ridge, so
that when the lion came he was between me and the sky.  I was about
fifty yards away from him, with this rifle.  The first shot did not
bring him, but he gave a terrific roar.  Instantly I fired a second
shot, then a third, and then a fourth.  The lion fell, and there was
no more disturbance that night.  I could not get the men to go out
and see the result of my shot, as they were afraid the mate of the
animal might be about and would seek revenge.  The next morning they
were bold enough and went; there was my lion as dead as a door-nail,
and every bullet had told."

CHAPTER X.

  AN INVITATION ACCEPTED--ANOTHER BUFFALO--PREPARING
  LUNCHEON IN STYLE.

Then from Winchesters the talk ran to other rifles.  I suspected that
this diversion was in order to avoid an answer to my invitation, and
at the first convenient pause in the rifle-talk I again started to
leave the tent.  Thereupon Mrs. Roberts stopped me and said:

"It will give us pleasure to accept your invitation, and if the
weather justifies we will call at your camp the day after to-morrow."

"Thank you very much," I answered; "it will give us great pleasure,
and if the facilities of the country permitted you might expect a
band of music to welcome your arrival.  But as an orchestra is not to
be had we must content ourselves with the resources of the country.
May I ask at about what time we may look for you?"

"Oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of noon, I suppose," she replied.

"Will you do us the honor to take luncheon with us during your call!"
I asked.

"With pleasure," the lady answered; "and we shall look for ice-cream,
oysters, and all the delicacies of London and New York combined."

"Certainly," I replied; "all we have to do is to send to Delmonico's
and Gatty's, and that we can do with the utmost ease."

This retort evoked a laugh from the twain, and under its cover I said
good-day and retired.

I rode as quickly as I could to the place where my friends were
engaged in hunting the buffaloes, drawing up at the tree under which
we had left our horses the day before.  Their horses were at the tree
in the care of the Kafirs who accompanied them.  I found that Harry
and Jack had gone into the forest on foot and several shots had
already been fired.  Not wishing to run the risk of meeting an
infuriated bull which one of them had wounded, and also unwilling to
risk being shot while approaching the hunters, I concluded to remain
outside and wait for developments.

I did not have long to wait--not more than fifteen or twenty minutes;
a huge bull came rushing out of the woods and made across the open
country, passing quite near the tree under which we were resting.  He
was followed by three or four other members of his herd, and this
gave me an excellent opportunity for a buffalo-hunt on horseback.

Filling my belt with cartridges and taking my trusty Remington, I
swung into the saddle and went after the bull that was leading the
group.  I tried to make out whether he was wounded or not, as I
preferred to bring down game of my own and not an animal that, by the
rules of South Africa, would belong to somebody else.  There was no
trace of blood on the spoor of the buffalo, and so I concluded that
he had only been alarmed at the sound of the firing and possibly by a
shot aimed at him which went wide of its mark.

I had no difficulty in getting alongside the brute.  Evidently he had
never been chased on horseback and looked upon man and horse as some
sort of wild animal, possibly a modification of the giraffe, or
perhaps a new kind of quagga or eland.  In fact, he might easily
mistake the horse for a quagga, as there is a strong resemblance
between the two animals, and the man might be taken for an unusually
large hump on the creature's back.  At all events, he manifested no
alarm whatever at my riding up alongside, but he did manifest a great
deal of surprise when I sent a bullet into his side at short range.
His surprise was momentary; he paused, gave a look at me, and then
charged savagely in my direction.

I was ready for him and got out of his way.  My horse evinced a good
deal of terror as the brute rushed upon him, and made active use of
his legs.  The charge did not last long, and the buffalo resumed his
course over the open country.

I ranged up alongside and gave it to him again, and then I saw the
advantage that a Winchester would have been under the circumstances.
I could have given him two or three shots before he had a chance to
turn and charge, and two or three shots might have settled him where
one did not.

He charged again, but this time his assault was feeble, his steps
grew slower and slower; he paused, came to a dead stand, and then
dropped to the ground!  Another shot at the vulnerable point in his
head finished him completely, and then I rode on in pursuit of the
others.

I singled out a cow and hunted her down in the same way.  By the time
I finished her the others had disappeared in a great clump of
hack-thorn bushes, where I did not care to follow.  Hunting in
hack-thorn bushes is terrible work on one's clothing, not to mention
his skin.  For making the visit already mentioned I had donned the
best of my South African equipments, and as my call was to be
returned two days later I thought it just as well to keep away from
the hack-thorns.

I retraced my steps in the direction of the tree where I had left the
horses of my friends.  There I found that Harry and Jack had driven
out another bunch of buffaloes, which made off in an easterly
direction; they mounted their horses and went in pursuit of the game,
and had been out of sight for some time, trending away to the
eastward.  It was no use for me to follow, as a stern chase would be
a long chase and completely use up my horse, not to speak of his
rider.  So I gave the Kafirs the direction for finding the two
buffaloes I had slaughtered, and then, after giving my horse a
breathing-spell of a quarter of an hour or so, jumped into the saddle
and jogged slowly in the direction of camp.

"Glory enough for one day," I remarked to myself--"a call upon those
two charming women, and two buffaloes added to my credit.  I don't
know that I care for any more game just at present."

While I was meditating upon the events of the morning and also
considering our menu for lunch, suddenly, on passing a ridge, I
sighted a herd of elands.

I brought my horse to a stop instantly, and with my head just above
the ridge surveyed the herd, which luckily had not seen me.  By going
back a little and then moving along parallel to the ridge I could
come upon the herd almost within shooting-distance, and that is
exactly what I did.  The herd was feeding in a valley between two
ridges, and before they were fairly aware of it I was upon them.  I
singled out the finest of the animals, which was also one of the
nearest, and in less than fifteen minutes from the time I first
sighted the herd the creature was lying dead at my feet.  Had I
followed them up it is quite likely I might have bagged another, but
I repeated to myself my previous assertion--"Glory enough for one
day."  After marking the spot where the eland lay by tying a piece of
rag (torn from my shirt) to the nearest thorn-bush, I again resumed
my journey toward camp, and this time I reached it.

It was two or three hours after I got to camp before my friends
returned.  They had had good luck, both on foot and on horseback,
Harry having killed three buffaloes and Jack two.  They had a run
after elands.  I could not tell from their description whether it was
the herd from which I had made a selection or not, but they were not
as fortunate as I, not getting near enough for a shot.  Altogether we
made a very good day's sport, and when our closing meal of the day
was ready we partook of it with a hearty relish.  The old adage says
that hunger is the best sauce, and we were hungry enough to have
eaten a slice out of a lion.

And this reminds me that a lion is not such bad eating after all.
One naturally has a prejudice against it, as the lion belongs to the
feline race, and outside of China cats are not popular as
food-material.  I tried lion one day, principally for the reason that
there was nothing else to eat and I had just shot one of the
so-called "kings of beasts."  It tasted somewhat like veal, but was
tougher, and also had a cattish flavor to it.  I had some steaks cut
from the lion and broiled over the coals, and the next morning had a
stew made from the lion's flesh.  The conclusion I reached was that
stewed lion is better than broiled lion, as the stewing rids the
flesh of the feline bouquet.  If any reader of this story should have
occasion to dine upon the flesh of this animal I recommend that he
have it stewed or boiled, and well boiled too.

Harry and Jack were delighted when I told them of the visit that was
promised to us.  They immediately began making plans for the
luncheon, and to put the camp in order for our fair callers.  Harry
ran over the inventory of his clothes and finally decided that he
would don his best hunting-suit, inasmuch as he had no other except
his every-day one, which was very much dilapidated.  The best one was
not a great deal better than the worst.  As for white shirts and
collars, there was nothing of the kind in our outfit; neither was
there a tall hat among the three of us.

Jack's outfit and mine were very much the same as Harry's, so that
there was nothing to boast of.  We had our best suits carefully and
severely dusted, and fished out some checked hunting-shirts which had
not yet been worn.

"We're ahead of any other African hunters, I believe," said Jack, as
the garments were unfolded.  "I don't believe there's one in fifty
that can show a clean shirt after he's been out a month from
civilization."

"And a good many of them," said Harry, "can't show any shirt at all,
when you come to that.  We're mighty lucky to have such a splendid
wardrobe.  Wouldn't be a bad idea to start a clothing-store, even
with our limited stock."

The question of dress being settled, there arose the momentous one of
the menu for luncheon.  Jack said that we would paralyze them on
that, and he would apply the stroke of paralysis.

This he said with a shake of the head which intimated that he knew
what he was talking about.  I could not make out what he was driving
at, and waited patiently for the result.

We were up early the next morning, and all three set about
preparations for the lunch of the next day.  We cleaned out the tent
and made it as presentable as possible; and by the time we were
through with our work we all admitted that it had never yet been as