They were soon out of sight of the naked eye; but Hans followed them with his glass, until that also failed to keep them in view.
It was a great disappointment to everybody, just as it would be to a field of fox-hunters, who, after getting into the saddle, had found themselves driven back to their stables by frost and snow. Hendrik was particularly out of temper, on account of the ill luck that had befallen his saddle; and if a hyena had shown itself at that moment, it would have stood a fair chance of getting a bullet into its body. All the others, though in a less degree, shared Hendrik’s uncomfortable reflections.
All six sat chafing in their saddles, not knowing what to do.
“Let us ride out to the nest,” proposed Arend. “At all events, the eggs have not ‘stole away.’ We’ll get them, and, by the way, I shouldn’t object to an omelette for breakfast,” (they had not yet breakfasted:) “I’m tired enough of venison and dry biltong. What say you?”
“By all means,” rejoined Groot Willem; “let us bring in the eggs, and breakfast on them—that is, if they’re not too far gone. I should like an egg for breakfast myself. Come on then!”
“Stop!” cried Hans; “stop a moment, yägers! Perhaps we’ll not be disappointed—we may have a chase yet.”
Hans had the glass to his eye as he spoke.
“What!” inquired several; “are they coming back?”
Hans made no reply for a moment. He could not be looking after the ostriches. His telescope was pointed in the direction of the nest. The birds were not there!
“It is it!—it is! the very creature itself!” exclaimed Hans, in a half-soliloquy.