So Mildmay settled himself down as comfortably as he could once more, and never knew when sleep overtook him. As for the professor, he was quite determined to remain where he was until daylight, if need were. He told himself that the unicorns must drink somewhere, and why not here? It was as likely a place as any, and quite worth watching, and—and—yes—um! The professor’s eyes closed, his thoughts wandered, and presently he, too, was asleep.
The grey light of dawn was in the sky when the slumbering pair were startled into instant and broad wakefulness by the sound of a curious barking kind of neigh. They had heard it but once in their lives before this, but they both recognised it in a moment.
“By Jove!” gasped the professor, laying his hand upon Mildmay’s arm and compressing it in a vice-like grasp, “the unicorns!”
Mildmay nodded, and seizing their rifles, the pair, with infinite caution, parted the veiling reeds just sufficiently to afford them a glimpse in the direction from which the sound had proceeded. And there, within half a dozen yards of them, their eager gaze fell upon a troop of some thirty—horses? Well, they were, in appearance, like the horses one sees represented in Greek sculpture; rather short in the body, round in the barrel, with slim, elegantly shaped, but apparently very strong legs, and they carried their heads high upon thick, muscular, arching necks. They stood about fourteen hands high, and were of a beautiful deep cream colour, with short black manes, black switched tails similar to that of the gemsbok, and their legs were black from the knee downward. But their most remarkable characteristic was that the stallions were provided with a single, straight, black, sharply pointed horn, some three feet in length, projecting from the very centre of the forehead, two or three inches above the level of the eyes. They were descending the slope that led down to the water, and were advancing at a walk, their paces being singularly graceful and easy. Their leader, an exceedingly fine and handsome animal, was a yard or two in advance of the rest, and, with arching neck and head carried somewhat low, he came on, peering alertly right and left, evidently on the watch for possible enemies.
“We must get a pair—two pairs if we can,” murmured von Schalckenberg in a low tone, rendered hoarse by excitement and anxiety. “You take the leader and another stallion, I will look out for the mares. Aim for just behind the shoulder. Are you ready?”
“Yes,” breathed Mildmay.
“Then fire!” whispered the professor. And, as the rifle-hammers softly clicked, the thud of the bullets was heard, and the leader and a handsome mare dropped, shot through the heart. The troop halted instantly, snorting nervously and glancing quickly to right and left, clearly puzzled at this sudden and unaccountable fall of two of their number. Quick as thought the hidden sportsmen each selected a fresh victim, and ere one could count ten another pair of the beautiful creatures were down. This was enough; the unicorns now realised that some mysterious deadly influence was at work among them, and, throwing up their heads, they swerved short round and dashed off up the slope again, over the ridge of which they vanished the next moment, uttering shrill neighs of alarm.
The two hunters rose to their feet and shook hands in mutual congratulation at their splendid luck ere they stepped out from their ambush to inspect and admire this magnificent and unique addition to their “bag.” The animals were all superb specimens, in perfect condition, without a blemish; their coats smooth and glossy as satin, the horns of the males long, straight, tough, and with points as sharp as that of a bayonet. The professor was in a perfect ecstasy of delight; he declared that this was the supreme moment of his life; and then corrected himself by saying that that moment would arrive when, in the fulness of time, he would confront his brother Fellows of the Zoological Society with the skins of a pair of unicorns, properly prepared and set up by Ward, in confutation of the thinly veiled doubts and scepticism with which certain of them had dared to receive a former statement of his that unicorns actually existed, and that he had beheld them with his own good eyes. They had not scrupled to suggest that possibly he might have been mistaken! Donner und Blitzen! would they still think so when they saw those skins? Ha, ha! When he, von Schalckenberg, next made a definite statement, they would, perhaps, be less ready to discredit it!
The next question was, would Mildmay be so very obliging as to go back to the ship and bring her to the spot where the fallen unicorns lay? The remainder of the party, and especially the ladies, would doubtless like to see them, just as they were, ere the process of flaying had been begun; moreover, they would need the assistance of the other men in securing the skins, to say nothing of that of the lion and, possibly, the python. As for him, von Schalckenberg, he would remain there on guard to protect those priceless trophies from depredation and injury by vultures or wild beasts; they should never leave his sight until they were safely removed and stowed away. Danger? Ach! what was danger compared with the saving of those skins in perfect condition? Besides, he had his rifle and an abundant supply of cartridges; he was not afraid.
“Very well,” said Mildmay, “I shall go.” And away he started up the slope forthwith, leaving the professor full in the open, seated upon the body of one of the unicorns, with his pipe in his mouth and his rifle in his hand, glaring round him warily through his gold-framed spectacles, keenly on the watch for any predatory creature that should dare to dispute the right of himself and his friend to their lawful spoils.