Both shot forward at the fresh touch of the steel; but at the second or third spring the ground under the “Great Camel” gave way, and the huge horse with his heavy rider rolled headlong to the earth!
He had broken through the burrow of the aard-wolf!
Hendrik, who had shot a little ahead, heard the confused noise behind, and, looking over his shoulder, saw Groot Willem and the “Camel” struggling together over the turf. A more attractive object, however, was in front of him—the panting buck—and without making halt, or staying to inquire whether his fellow-hunter was hurt—a pardonable neglect among sportsmen—he pressed his wearied horse still forward and onward.
In five minutes after, the buck stood to bay by the edge of the timber, and the dogs rushed up and sprang at him. It was a fatal spring for one of them—the favourite of Groot Willem. The luck was against him, as it had gone against his master. A single “gowl” came from his throat, as he was flung back off the sharp horns of the antelope. It was the last note he ever uttered, for in a moment more he had kicked his last kick, and lay lifeless upon the plain!
And very likely Hendrik’s favourite would have shared the same fate; but his master at this moment riding near, caused the blue-buck a fresh alarm, and he broke bay, and dashed into the bushes followed by the dog.
Hendrik now lost sight of the chase, though he could hear the breaking branches, as the strong antelope made his way through the thicket, and the baying of the dog still told him the direction in which the game was going.
Putting his horse to a more moderate pace, he followed through the bosch, as well as he could. He expected every moment to hear the hound bark, the signal that the buck had again stood to bay, but he was doomed to disappointment. No such sound reached his ears.
He began to think that the buck was lost, and that, after all the chances in his favour, he would return to camp with no better story to tell than his rival. He was becoming exceedingly chagrined with the turn things had taken, when, to his further chagrin, he heard a loud plunge, as of some heavy object falling into deep water. He knew it was the buck. Another plunge!—that was the dog.
There was a river ahead—the antelope had taken to it, and would now escape to a certainty. The water seemed near—there was an open tract that led in that direction. Perhaps he might be in time. Perhaps he might get to the bank before the buck could reach the opposite shore. A bullet from his rifle might yet secure the game.
Without hesitating a moment he again spurred his horse, and galloped down the hill in the direction of the water.