“But what took him away from the camp?” asked Von Bloom, surprised and troubled at the news.
That, and only that could they answer. A number of odd-looking animals—very odd-looking, the children said,—had come to the vley to drink. Hans had taken his gun and followed them in a great hurry, telling Trüey and Jan to keep in the tree, and not come down until he returned. He would be gone only a very little while, and they needn't fear.
This was all they knew. They could not even tell what direction he had taken. He went by the lower end of the vley; but soon the bushes hid him from their view, and they saw no more of him.
“At what time was it?”
It was many hours ago,—in the morning in fact,—not long after the hunters themselves had started. When he did not return the children grew uneasy; but they thought he had fallen in with papa and Hendrik, and was helping them to hunt; and that was the reason why he stayed so long.
“Had they heard any report of a gun?”
No—they had listened for that, but heard none. The animals had gone away before Hans could get his gun ready; and they supposed he had to follow some distance, before he could overtake them—that might be the reason they had heard no shot.
“What sort of animals were they?”
They had all seen them plain enough, as they drank. They had never seen any of the kind before. They were large animals of a yellow-brown colour, with shaggy manes, and long tufts of hair growing out of their breasts, and hanging down between their fore-legs. They were as big as ponies, said Jan, and very like ponies. They curvetted and capered about just as ponies do sometimes. Trüey thought that they looked more like lions!
“Lions!” ejaculated her father and Hendrik, with an accent that betokened alarm.