Chapter Twenty Seven.
Marked down by Vultures.
They were still many miles from King Moseti’s town, and the larder being again low, consequent upon the impossibility of keeping meat, a hunting-party was instituted, and Mr Rogers was about to go off with the boys; but on second thoughts, as they had been seen by the people on the river, no doubt the news of their coming was known all through the country, and it was possible that some of the natives might come down.
This he felt would be unsatisfactory if he was away, so he decided to stop; and then feeling that it would be better to have some trustworthy man to help guard the waggon, and not feeling that either Dinny, Peter, or Dirk, was that man, he decided to tell the General to stay.
So the hunting-party consisted of the four boys, who were warned not to go too far, but to be sure and get something in the shape of meat as soon as they could.
They went off in high glee, Coffee being delighted to be able to take his place in the party; and nothing would do but he must perform all sorts of feats, to show how strong he had grown once more.
Acting upon Mr Rogers’ advice, they made straight for the high, open, park-like land, about a couple of miles south of the river; and here Coffee soon showed his talent as a tracker, by pointing out some footprints in a patch of soft earth and mud close to a clear pool of water.
“Lion!” he said, pointing to the great round impression: and he spat and stamped, and then struck the ground fiercely with his kiri.
“Elfant!” cried Chicory just then; and his discovery so far transcended his brother’s, that there was a rush to see the huge round footprint, that looked as if some one had been standing portmanteaus on end all over the bog, and leaving their impressions there.
Then there were buffalo tracks, and the footprints of innumerable other beasts that had been to drink, or else gone on, making a complete roadway in the direction of the big river.