But birds are not the only tenants of this fair scene. Quadrupeds, as bright and beautiful as they, haunt its verdant glades, or repose under the grateful shadow of its acacia-groves.
In a few hours’ ride one might see graceful antelopes of many species. The nimble springbok—the gazelle of South Africa—might be observed trooping over the sward, or bounding high in air either in sport or alarm—the orange “hartebeest,” and the purple “sassybe,” might be seen—the shaggy-maned eccentric gnoo, scouring the plain in circles—droves of quaggas, or of the still more beautiful “zebra of the plains,” (Equus Burchellii), might be seen too, crouching around the copses, the leopard, fair but fearful to look upon; and still more fearful to behold the tawny tyrant of the scene—the lion.
All these creatures, and many more of equal interest, might come under the eye of the traveller or hunter during a single day’s ride through that wild domain.
Thus full of life, what a contrast did this beautiful meadow present to the monotonous waste of wilderness, that stretched away from the opposite side of the grove to the far horizon!
Baulked in their projected “surround” of the ostriches—disappointed by the “poor sport” which the fox had afforded, the hunter-boys were determined not to be “choused” out of a chase. Some sort of one they would have, if it were only a brush after springboks, for these, they knew, they could find at any time. They were aware of the existence of the fine plain—the edge of which came up within a few hundred yards of their camp. They had pastured their cattle there on the evening before; and conjectured that it must be the haunt of many kinds of game. For this reason they now resolved upon making an excursion to that quarter, to hunt whatever might turn up.
They came to this determination, only after their return from the ostriches’ nest; but as they had made up their minds to it before eating breakfast, they did not off-saddle, but kept their horses ready for being mounted.
As soon as the meal was over, they took once more to their saddles and rode off, the buck-dogs following at the heels of their horses. Congo and Swartboy stayed by the camp.
They had not far to go, before coming in view of their game; and rare game that was.
They were scarce yet a hundred paces from the camp, and just about to ride out from the timber, when Hendrik, in the advance, suddenly reined up his horse, making a sign for the others to do the same. All pulled up in a breath, and sat in their saddles, gazing out through the leaves. Though still within the shadow of the grove, all had a good view of the open plain; and before them was a sight that would have warmed the hearts of older hunters than they.