Oscar threw the sling of his double-barrel over his arm, allowing the weapon to drop down by the side of his horse, and hastily drawing his field-glass from its case, brought it to bear upon a distant object that had attracted his attention.
On the summit of a rocky hill, quite a mile and a half away, was something that might have been taken by an inexperienced hunter for a stump or a clump of bushes, but to Oscar's eyes it looked like an animal. It was an animal, too; and just as Oscar raised his glass to his eyes it moved, presenting its broadside, and giving him a fair view of it.
The young hunter had never seen anything like it before, but he knew in a moment what it was. The long, twisted horns, the thin, spare mane on the neck, the long hair on the chin, throat, and breast, the narrow bands of white descending from the back and passing obliquely down the sides and over the hips, all of which could be plainly seen by the aid of the powerful field-glass, told Oscar that the animal was a koodoo—one of the largest, bravest, and most pugnacious antelopes in Africa.
The position he occupied, and the attitude he assumed, standing, as he did, on the top of the highest hill he could find, with his head turned toward the hunters, whose presence he had already detected, proved that he was a sentinel. Beyond a doubt there were others of the same species feeding on the other side of the hill, and this old fellow was keeping watch over them. When Oscar lowered his glass the Kaffir grinned and nodded his head, at the same time pointing toward the sentinel with one hand, while with the other he raised his rifle as if he were about to shoot at him.
"That is just what I want to do," said Oscar, who readily caught the meaning of this pantomime. "Lead on and show me how to do it. I know I've got to creep up on him, and I want to get as close to him as I can before I begin."
In obedience to this command the native mounted his horse and rode away, still holding fast to the hounds, which trotted along by his side. He did not go toward the antelope, but moved off in another direction, holding his way over the treeless plain, upon which the sun was now beating down with the most intense fury. The sentinel koodoo was evidently very much interested in their movements, for Oscar could see that he kept close watch over them.
Oscar knew that he had undertaken something that would test his skill as a hunter to the utmost. There is not an animal that roams the African plains that is harder to bring to bag than the koodoo. It makes little difference to him whether he fights or runs. He does one about as well as he does the other, and it is not an easy task to beat him at either.
When pursued on horseback he will make for the rockiest and most uneven ground he knows of, and it is seldom that he allows the hunter to be brought within fair shooting distance of him. If hard pressed he will dive into a thicket of thorn bushes where a horseman cannot follow him, and if brought to bay by the dogs he will kill them as fast as they come to him, should they chance to be scattered in the chase so that they cannot all attack him at once.
His immense strength (he stands more than four feet in height at the shoulders, and is heavily built), his great courage and determination, his sharp horns, which he uses with as much skill as a fencing-master exhibits in handling his foils, make him the most formidable of the antelope tribe. The most successful as well as the most sportsmanlike way of hunting them is by stalking; and in this way Oscar hoped to be able to secure that sentinel koodoo.
Big Thompson led his employer straight ahead until they had placed a range of high hills between themselves and the koodoo, under cover of which he hoped to bring Oscar within short stalking distance of the game. Having marked well the hill on which the sentinel had been seen, he kept on until he thought he had reached a point opposite to it, and then he reined in his horse and looked at the boy. Oscar, who understood what he meant, handed him his reins and dismounted.