He fired, and immediately a wild stampede took place from all sides with thunderous roarings, while a bulky body leapt into the firelight and rolled over, clawing the ground in its death-throes.
He had made no false aim this time, but had brought down a well-developed leopard.
“A pity we cannot take those skins with us. The people outside won’t believe in our stories when we have nothing to show on our return. But we cannot cart any more luggage. Never mind, we have something to boast about all the same, whether we are credited or not, when we get back.”
“If we get back,” murmured Clarence, gloomily.
Since his knock on the head by the Boers, Clarence had suffered now and again from depressed spirits. The organ of hope must have been damaged somehow on that occasion. At the present moment, however, he had a touch of malarial fever, which always makes one feel very morbid and despairing.
“Hallo, Clarence!” cried Ned. “I see you require some more quinine. Never mind, old fellow, we shall soon be out of this swamp; then you will be all right.”
No one paid any attention to the dead leopard as yet. They had grown used to incidents of this sort, therefore felt little excitement. However, seeing that it was a magnificent specimen, and appeared jet black as it lay stretched out, Cocoeni rose and went over to skin it. While he was so engaged, the others kept a close watch over him with their guns, ready to shoot any covetous molester. As they watched the thickets round, they could see dark forms gliding about. These were wolves and hyenas waiting to devour the carcase when Cocoeni was done with it.
From all sides resounded the howlings, sharp cries, and vibrating roarings of hungry animals on the prowl. These never ceased all through the night.
Neither did the everlasting and varied croaking of the frogs, that kept up an increasing chorus, running up and down the scale of notes, from the deep bass of the bull to the reed-like treble of the tender froglet. Through this orchestra sounded the irritating and brisk humming of the indefatigable mosquitoes. As Ned remarked merrily, “No one could feel lonely while this concert went on.”
They had no stint of fresh meat, for as they camped mostly where they found a running stream, the beasts generally had their choice of the menagerie as they came down to drink. Sometimes they would pot a fine young elephant or a hippopotamus, while they could always rely upon some variety of the antelope family for their larder.