After the lions had finished their battle and quenched their thirst there was quiet for an hour, and then the other animals began coming in.
First came the small antelopes, then the larger ones, such as the wilde-beests, elands, and harte-beests; then the zebras, quaggas, and buffaloes; and if there had been an elephant or a rhinoceros in the neighborhood he would have come last.
The hour selected by the lion depends entirely upon circumstances. If the moon rises late he comes to the fountain soon after dark; and if it rises early he postpones his visit until near morning, unless he has had a hearty supper, and then he drinks whenever he happens to feel thirsty.
While Oscar was listening, and wishing it was daylight, so that he could see the immense herds that were constantly passing by within less than two hundred yards of his wagon, he was treated to another contest.
It did not frighten him as the first one did, for he knew that the animals which engaged in it were not much to be feared; still it made him nervous and timid, it was so wild and unearthly. It sounded, for all the world, as though a dozen or so demented persons were joining in a hearty laugh over something.
It was enough to try anyone's nerves, and it was no wonder that the terror-stricken after-rider drew himself into a smaller compass behind the fore-chest, and cried out that another such night would be the death of him.
"There's nothing to whine over," said Oscar. "A pack of laughing hyenas have found poor Major's body—that's all."
Major was the name of the mastiff that had been killed by the buffalo.