“Yes; it wasn’t nice. I wonder how that poor little chap is this morning. I hope he will get well; and I say—I wish Bob Bacon was coming with us instead of going after the buck. He would just have enjoyed this.”
“Yes, and made black Mak jealous. He doesn’t like it when he’s left behind. I say, shan’t we be too late?”
“N–no, I think not,” replied Mark. “Mak knows best about this sort of thing; only we had better step out, for we ought to take back a few brace for the larder. I say, what a lot we do eat!”
Half an hour after the grove-like edge of the forest was reached, and waiting for a chance the boys let drive with both barrels right into a spot where they could see the birds of which they were in search clustering together quite low down upon some nearly leafless boughs, and for a few minutes the Illaka was busy enough picking up the dead and chasing the wounded runners, and tying their legs together so as to make a bundle of the toothsome birds.
Then tramping on along the edge of the forest in search of another resting-place, they tramped in vain, for the pintados for some reason or another were exceedingly wary that morning, flock after flock going whirring off before their persecutors could get within shot.
“Well,” said Mark, at last, “it is no use going any farther, so we may as well get back with what we have shot. My word, it is a poor lot! I wonder whether the doctor has had better luck. If he hasn’t, with so many mouths to feed we shall be running short. Well, let’s get back;” and in spite of invitations from Mak to “Come, shoot,” the boys shook their heads and trudged back in a rather disappointed frame of mind.
“It never rains but it pours,” grumbled Mark, as they reached the waggon, for he was greeted by the doctor, who had been back some time, with, “Is that all you have got?”
“Yes,” said Mark sourly, for he wanted his breakfast. “How many springbok have you shot?”
“Ah, you may well ask that. I made three misses, your father two, and then Bob Bacon had a turn, and he says he hit, but the last I saw of the one he shot at was when it was going like the wind.”
“I say,” said Mark, “what’s to be done, doctor? Father said we were to lay up game enough to last two days, and—bother! Here’s Dan coming up grinning, to ask what he’s to cook this morning.”