When they reached the wagon-track they sailed over it as easily as if they had been furnished with wings, and then trotted along with their noses close to the ground, as if they felt in a very sportive mood.
Being unarmed, Oscar could do nothing but sit in his saddle and look at them, reproaching himself the while for not bringing a rifle with him.
If he had had one of his double-barrels in his hands he could have secured a couple of specimens and some fresh steaks for dinner without the least difficulty.
When the afternoon march began he rode out with an Express rifle on his shoulder, but he waited in vain for another herd of spring-bucks to cross the track. There were plenty of them in sight, but they took care to keep out of range.
The dogs, as usual, went off hunting on their own hook, but instead of driving the game in his direction they drove it farther away, and finally disappeared among the hills.
"Such a chance as I had this morning doesn't happen more than once in a fellow's lifetime," thought Oscar regretfully. "However, I have learned something by it. I know now how to set up a spring-buck if I ever get one, and have been convinced that in this country a hunter had better keep a rifle by him all the time."
Oscar went off into a revery, which lasted nearly an hour, and from which he was finally aroused by the baying of a hound. He did not pay much attention to it at first, but when he found that there was more than one hound giving tongue, and that their music was growing louder every moment, he straightened up and began to look about him.
All at once a large, dark-brown animal appeared over the brow of a hill about a quarter of a mile to his right, and came toward him with the speed of the wind.
In an instant Oscar dropped to the ground, and looking over his horse's back, watched the movements of the game. He had scarcely taken up his position before a number of dogs came into view. They did not run in a compact body, as hounds usually do, but were spread out in a sort of skirmish order so as to cover each flank of their quarry. Oscar was quick to notice this, and he could not help congratulating himself on the intelligence displayed by his pack of mongrels.
"I had no idea they had so much sense," said he to himself. "The game, whatever it is, can't turn either way without running the risk of being caught. Its only chance is to keep straight ahead and outrun the dogs; but whether or not it can do that is a question. I never saw them move so swiftly before."