“You know,” began Mr. Holton uneasily, “I feel a little ashamed to hunt that animal this way. This sort of thing is generally considered unsportsmanlike.”
“True,” Joe’s father said at once. “But still, chances like this don’t come often. And when at very infrequent intervals they do come, I’m in favor of taking advantage of them.”
As the darkness closed in on them, Bob held his rifle tighter, Joe focused the movie camera. Mr. Lewis and Mr. Holton, too, waited breathlessly.
Soon a majestic moon rose over the vast wilderness, making it almost as light as day. The rustling of the wind gave way to a chorus of wild animal screams.
Suddenly Bob and Joe heard something that struck terror to their hearts. It was the most hideous sound they had ever listened to.
“Wh-what was that?” demanded Joe breathlessly.
“Only a hyena,” returned his father. “That’s what they call the laughing of the hyena. It isn’t often that one can hear it.”
Mr. Lewis pointed to something not five feet away.
There, making its way slowly toward the carcass, was a large jackal, which was soon joined by three others. They were moving stealthily, as though undecided whether to sample the dead wildebeest.