“Oh, that is all right!” returned Dick confidently; “my patient will not need me for hours yet, so let us see about it at once. Where is Jantje?”
Jantje was close at their elbows, and already “putting on side” among the villagers upon the strength of being in the service of an ’mkulu ’mtagati. He stepped forward at the question and answered, with an air of proud humility:
“I’se here, sar. What you please to want?”
“Mr Grosvenor and I are going to have a try for those lions, Jantje, if they are still lurking in the neighbourhood,” observed Dick. “I believe you said that these people report the beasts to be somewhere in yonder clump of bush? Very well. Now, I want a party to enter the bush on the windward side and carefully beat down-wind in order to drive the brutes into the open. Mr Grosvenor and I will place ourselves on the down-wind side of the bush, and if the lions can be induced to break cover we will do our best to bowl them over. We shall also require two steady, reliable men to come with us to carry our spare rifles; but, understand this, they must be men of courage, who will not be scared out of their seven senses and bolt, carrying our rifles off with them, if the lions should show in the open.”
“Yes, sar,” answered Jantje, “I understan’ you puffekly. You leave everyt’ing to me, sar; I arrange it all, jus’ as you wish. An’ I will come wid you myself, sar, to carry gun. I am a brabe man, sar; no pusson in dhis worl’ more brabe as me; you shall see, sar.”
“Very well,” answered Dick, suppressing a smile at the Hottentot’s vainglorious boast; “you, being so exceedingly brave and reliable shall go with Mr Grosvenor; but you must pick me out a good man to come with me. Just see about it, will you, and bring the whole party to the wagon, where we are now going to get our rifles.”
Puffed up with the honour of having so important a matter confided to him, the Hottentot saluted, and turned to address the crowd that still hung about the white men awaiting possible further developments, explaining to them what was required. A few words sufficed, and the moment that the white man’s intentions and wishes were understood the crowd dissolved, as if by magic, the men hurrying away to their huts to procure their weapons, while Dick and Grosvenor sauntered away toward the wagon, noting, as they went, that their team of oxen had been driven to a spot where the grass was especially good, close to the banks of the river, and that it was being zealously watched and guarded by a dozen well-grown lads armed with hunting assagais and knobkerries.
Arrived at the wagon, the two friends proceeded to bring forth and don their bandoliers, having first satisfied themselves that the belts were filled with the kind of cartridge required for the particular pattern of weapon which they were about to employ; and then, having taken down and loaded the four rifles which they intended to use, they awaited the arrival of the beating party, conscious now, for the first time, of a peculiar and not altogether pleasant feeling compounded of excitement and—was it “funk”? No, certainly not, for neither of them would have backed out of the adventure on any account; yet, if the sensation was not “funk”, it bore some sort of family resemblance to it, something perhaps, in the nature of stage fright. The fact is that each realised, at nearly the same moment, that they were about to embark upon a perfectly new experience, an adventure in which they were as yet untried, in which courage and the most perfect sangfroid were of the utmost importance, and they were by no means certain how they would emerge from the ordeal. To put it plainly, they were just a little afraid that at the critical moment they might fail to exhibit that superlative coolness and aplomb, the slightest lack of which would cause each to feel for ever humiliated and disgraced in the eyes of the other. Besides, there were the natives, keen of eye, and quick to observe the smallest sign of anything approaching to perturbation; it would be awful beyond words to fail before them! By a curious coincidence the mind of each had been following precisely the same line of thought, and as they saw Jantje approaching, followed by some forty beaters and every mongrel cur belonging to the village, the same resolution came to each—they simply would not disgrace themselves and their colour by displaying the slightest sign of nervousness or trepidation in the eyes of those savages; so, drawing a deep breath, they pulled themselves together and, resolutely dismissing their apprehensions, prepared to do or die.
Proudly leading his party of beaters, the Hottentot approached and, giving a sort of semi-military salute, announced that the villagers but awaited the orders of the white chiefs to proceed. Then, leading forward a tall savage of some thirty-five years of age, of magnificent physique, he introduced the man as Mafuta, the half-brother of the injured man, and informed Dick that he, Mafuta, had specially requested the honour of being allowed to act as gunbearer to his brother’s benefactor on this occasion. Dick ran his eye over the man, noted the splendid development of his thews and sinews, marked several ugly scars on his body and limbs bearing mute testimony to the fact that he had already proved himself a warrior, met his unflinching glance, proud and resolute, yet respectful, and instantly decided that here was a man who might be absolutely trusted. Without hesitation he placed his spare rifle in Mafuta’s hands, explaining to him, through Jantje, exactly what he wished him to do with it; and then issued his final instructions to the beaters, who at once moved off to work round to the windward side of the clump of bush in which the lions were said to be hiding, while Grosvenor and he, followed respectively by Jantje and Mafuta, took their leisurely way toward the points where they intended to station themselves. For a considerable part of the distance they walked together; and when at length they separated, Dick, who somehow seemed to have assumed the direction of affairs as a matter of course, with Grosvenor’s tacit consent and approval, said:
“Now, Phil, anything that may break cover to the right of that baobab, as we stand facing it, belongs to you, while anything that emerges to the left belongs to me, neither of us to interfere with the other’s chances unless the brutes seem likely to get away and make good their escape. And, just one caution, old chap: don’t fire until your quarry has passed out clear of the line of bush, or you may quite unintentionally shoot one of the beaters. Ah! there are the dogs giving tongue; the beaters are putting them into the bush. To your station, old man, and good luck to you!”