“We may see deer at any time now,” he said. “They abound in these sandy deserts which form their shelter, and yet are within easy distance of fields where when such vegetation as is here fails them they can go for food.”
A few minutes later a deer started from a clump of bushes. The dogs were instantly let slip and started in pursuit.
“Hurry on a hundred yards and take your position on that mound!” Rabah exclaimed to Chebron, while at the same time he signaled to the slaves behind to stop. “The dogs know their duty, and you will see they will presently drive the stag within shot.”
Chebron called Amuba to follow him and ran forward. By the time they reached the mound the stag was far away, with the dogs laboring in pursuit. At present they seemed to have gained but little, if at all, upon him, and all were soon hidden from sight among the sandhills. In spite of the assurance of Rabah the lads had doubts whether the dogs would ever drive their quarry back to the spot where they were standing, and it was full a quarter of an hour before pursuers and pursued came in sight again. The pace had greatly fallen off, for one of the dogs was some twenty yards behind the stag; the other was out on its flank at about the same distance away, and was evidently aiding in turning it toward the spot where the boys were standing.
“We will shoot together,” Chebron said. “It will come within fifty yards of us.”
They waited until the stag was abreast of them. The dog on its flank had now fallen back to the side of his companion as if to leave the stag clear for the arrows of the hunters. The lads fired together just as the stag was abreast; but it was running faster than they had allowed for, and both arrows flew behind it. They uttered exclamations of disappointment, but before the deer had run twenty yards it gave a sudden leap into the air and fell over. Jethro had crept up and taken his post behind some bushes to the left of the clump in readiness to shoot should the others miss, and his arrow had brought the stag to the ground.
“Well done, Jethro!” Amuba shouted. “It is so long since I was out hunting that I seem to have lost my skill; but it matters not since we have brought him down.”
The dogs stood quiet beside the deer that was struggling on the ground, being too well trained to interfere with it. Jethro ran out and cut its throat. The others were soon standing beside it. It was of a species smaller than those to which the deer of Europe belong, with two long straight horns.
“It will make a useful addition to our fare to-night,” Rabah said, “although, perhaps, some of the other sorts are better eating.”
“Do the dogs never pull them down by themselves?” Amuba asked.