“No great harm done, after all,” said Alexander; “God be praised: but here come the whole herd, Swinton.”
“Let them go, my good fellow,” replied Swinton, “we have had enough of buffalo-hunting for the present.”
The whole herd had now broken from the reeds about fifty paces from where they were stationed, and with their tails raised, tossing with their horns, and bellowing with rage and fear, darted out of the reeds, dripping with slime and mud, and rushed off towards the forest. In a few seconds they were out of sight.
“A good riddance,” said Swinton; “I hope the Major is now satisfied with buffalo-hunting.”
“I am, at all events,” replied Alexander. “I feel very sore and stiff. What a narrow escape that Bushman had.”
“Yes, he had indeed; but, Alexander, your horse is not well: he can hardly breathe. You had better dismount.”
Alexander did so, and unloosed his girths. Bremen got off his horse, and, offering it to Alexander, took the bridle of the other and examined him.
“He has his ribs broken, sir,” said the Hottentot,—“two of them, if not more.”
“No wonder, poor fellow; lead him gently, Bremen. Oh, here comes the Major. Now we shall know what has occurred; and there is Swanevelt and the two men.”
“Well, Major, pray tell us your adventures, for you have frightened us dreadfully.”