"That's better, my baas," said the little Bushman cheerfully. "Now you will soon be your own man again. Here, drink some more of this."
Guy drank from a flask of brandy, which Poeskop put to his lips, and felt better. His mind and recollection came back to him.
"What's happened?" he asked.
"Take another soupje, and I'll tell you," replied Poeskop. The lad did as he was told, and then the Bushman went on. "Well, what happened was this," he said. "That rhinoster caught you, and just ran his horn through your horse, and threw you both over his head. I caught sight of you flying through the air, and I thought, Well, Baas Guy is done for, and his hunting has soon come to an end."
"Not quite yet, Poeskop," returned Guy, a smile flitting over his white face. "I feel better already. Here, help me to sit up."
Poeskop lifted him up, and propped him in a sitting posture.
"Why!" exclaimed the lad, rubbing his eyes, and looking at his pony, which lay near, "there's Bantam--dead!"
"Yes, baas," added the Bushman. "Bantam is dead. The rhinoster's horn ran right through his lungs and heart, and I saw he was dying, and put a bullet into him to hasten his end and save him suffering. He was a fool, and might easily have escaped. As it was, he nearly did for you as well as himself by his stupidity. It's a pity. He was a right good pony, and could gallop like a springbuck."
"Poor Bantam!" groaned Guy, "what an untimely end. He was a duffer to behave as he did, but I shall miss him badly. What's happened to the rhinoceros, Poeskop?"
"He is dead, too," said the Bushman. "That was his last charge. He lies in the bush yonder, two hundred yards away. Now you must rest here while I make a fire and get some food for you. Baas Blakeney will see the smoke presently, and will come this way in search of us. Let me see if you can get to your feet, and you shall rest against yonder tree."