Oscar rode fast, and to his great delight succeeded in reaching the opposite side of the grove just as the buffalo broke through the bushes into the open ground.
The hunter's blood was up now, and without waiting to inquire whether or not he ran any risks by such a proceeding he pulled up his horse, and discharged both barrels of his rifle as rapidly as he could draw the trigger.
When he took the weapon down from his shoulder he found that he was still firmly seated in his saddle, and that his horse was standing motionless in his tracks.
"Come now, old fellow, that was pretty well done," said Oscar approvingly. "Little Gray himself couldn't be steadier. If this is the way you are going to behave that buffalo is mine."
A piercing shriek from the Kaffir, who had followed close at his heels, interrupted Oscar's soliloquy.
The native was leaning forward in his saddle, his eyes were fixed with a frightened stare, and his finger was pointing steadily at some object on the other side of Oscar.
The boy looked, and saw a sight that made the cold chills creep all over him. Two new hunters, whose aid was neither required nor desired, had suddenly appeared upon the scene.
They were a full-grown lion and lioness. They had doubtless been sleeping away the day in a little clump of thorn bushes that grew in the open plain, about a hundred yards from the grove, and having been aroused from their nap by the yelping of the dogs, they had come out of their retreat to take part in the hunt.
"Tao! tao!" shouted the Kaffir, who wheeled his horse and was off at breakneck speed.
Scarcely realizing what he was doing, Oscar sat motionless in his saddle and watched the chase. The dogs lost no time in withdrawing from the race, and the buffalo and the lions were left to settle the matter among themselves.