“Be careful, boys,” warned Mr. Holton. “And remember. Don’t shoot any animal unless, of course, you have to. This is a game preserve, you know.”
Delighted at such a chance, the youths strode off through the high grass, keeping their eyes ready to single out anything of interest.
Almost at every step they saw some strange and interesting creature. Birds of brilliant plumage flew overhead, large herds of sleek, agile antelopes coursed across the plain, and at one time the boys caught a glimpse of a buffalo.
“Strange that there aren’t any lions,” mused Joe. “Where there’s so much of everything else, looks like there ought to be at least a few.”
“I suppose they keep their distance,” said Bob. “Been hunted so much, maybe.”
In little over two hours, Bob and Joe returned to the train, to find their fathers sitting on the cowcatcher of the engine.
“What did you see?” Mr. Lewis inquired drowsily.
“Plenty,” answered Bob. “There’s about every kind of animal imaginable in this region. But we weren’t able to stir up a lion.”
“I don’t wonder,” Mr. Holton said. “The king of beasts is keeping his distance at present.”