“No,” said Dick, “father’s making signals for us to go to him.”
“But it’s such a pity to miss a chance,” cried Jack, unslinging his rifle.
“Yes,” said Dick, “so it is, but I shouldn’t like father to think we did not attend to his signals. Mark the clump. There, we shall know it by these stones on this high ground; and—yes, Jack, you’re right. That must be a giraffe.”
They stood watching the tall neck passing amongst the bushes, but it was getting very dark now, and they hurried on, so as to overtake the honey-bearers, reaching camp afterwards
quite safely, where, over their late dinner, the coming of the giraffes was discussed.
“I’d have breakfast at daybreak, boys, if I were you,” said Mr Rogers, “and be off directly after.”
“But you’ll come too, father?” said Jack.
“No, my boys, I thought you would like to have a hunt by yourselves,” said Mr Rogers; when, seeing how disappointed the lads looked, he consented to come.
The General stopped to keep the camp, and Coffee and Chicory seemed terribly disappointed at not being of the party; but upon receiving permission to take the dogs for a run, and a hunt all to themselves, they brightened up, and saw their masters go off without a murmur.