Chapter Thirty Eight.
Father shoots a Giraffe.
Meanwhile, believing that the boys were in full chase of a giraffe a-piece, Mr Rogers had galloped on after the great creature he had cut off from the herd, though for a time he could not gain upon it at all. The beast’s mode of progression was very ungainly, and its great stilted legs moved in an awkward manner, but it got over the ground very fast.
Still the plain was open and offered good galloping ground, and after a very long stern-chase Mr Rogers saw tokens of the great beast beginning to give way, and thereupon pushed forward, the bay responding to the calls he made upon it, so that he was soon alongside.
His rifle was ready, but he hesitated to use it, preferring to gallop on and watch the great creature which towered up to double the height he sat upon his horse. It kept panting on, whisking its tail, and once or twice it made an awkward side-wise kick at the horse, but it was ill-directed and of none effect; while at last feeling that he was torturing the great beast, he levelled his gun, but his sight was disarranged by another fierce kick, which made the horse bound aside.
Again they thundered on for some distance, when, steadying his horse so as to get a good aim, Mr Rogers levelled, fired, and the monster came down with a crash, shot through the head.
As the great giraffe lay motionless, Mr Rogers leaped down, after looking to see if his boys were coming; and then loosening his horse’s girths he let it graze amongst the rich grass that
grew in patches here and there, while, after refreshing himself a little, he drew his hunting-knife and proceeded dexterously to skin the great animal, which must have stood about nineteen feet from horn to hoof.
For the skin of the giraffe—if a fine one—is worth three or four pounds, and this was in magnificent condition.