“Don’t stir from hyar,” he said, “till I give ye the word.”
Dismounting, he walked briskly up the slope until near the top. There he slackened his pace, stooped low, and reaching a favorable point, removed his hat and peeped cautiously over. Alden and Jethro, who were watching him, saw him remain stationary for a minute or two. Then he crouched still lower, donned his hat and hurried back to them.
“Thar’s three of ’em,” he said, “and we oughter bag ’em all.”
“I shall be glad to do my part,” replied Alden.
“Which de same am likewise de fac’ as regards myself,” added Jethro.
The guide explained his plan, which, it may be said, caused Alden mild surprise, inasmuch as it gave the African the post of honor. Shagbark had described so often the method employed in hunting the antelope that the youths understood it theoretically. It remained for them to prove that they had a practical knowledge also.
Shagbark remarked that everything was in their favor. The slight breeze came directly from the animals, so it could not carry the scent of the hunters to them. In the circumstances, with the protection of the grass, it ought to be easy to steal within gunshot of the game, provided their inquiring nature was turned to good account.
Jethro was to move along the slope parallel with it, until he had gone an eighth of a mile, when he was to creep over the crest with the utmost caution and sneak into the grass on the other side. Once there he must advance slowly and with the utmost care toward the antelope. If they took the alarm, which they were almost certain to do, he should cease moving, lie flat and raise his hat on the ramrod of his gun, one end of which was to be thrust into the soft earth.
Then the old performance would follow. One or more of the animals would begin a timid, hesitating approach, frequently bounding or circling away for some distance, halting and advancing again, hypnotized by the singular sight whose nature they could not fathom without a closer view.