Now the creature that lay stretched out before the eyes of Hendrik was just one of these zoological puzzles, that has occupied the attention of the systematists for a long while. Some have classed it among dogs, others with hyenas, some make a civet of it, and others a fox. With all these animals it has affinities, both in habits and anatomical structure, but it is not near enough to any to be regarded either as dog, fox, civet, or hyena; and hence a genus has been created for itself—the genus Proteles. It was a proteles that lay upon the ground—Proteles Delalandii,—so called from its first describer, the traveller De Lalande.
Hendrik and Groot Willem knew the animal by the name of “aard-wolf,” or earth-wolf, so called because it lives underground in a burrow of its own making. They knew it well enough, for it is common through all South Africa—even in the settled districts, though on account of its nocturnal and burrowing habits it is not often seen. It makes itself known to the boor by its evil propensities; and although he may rarely get his eyes upon it, as it is never abroad by day, he is often called upon to witness the dire effects of its midnight marauding.
The sheep of South Africa are of a singular breed—singular on account of their large fleshy tails, consisting of a mass of almost pure fat which often weighs several pounds, and is used by the colonial housewives in many operations of cookery. Now these tails, hanging to the ground are the favourite bonne-bouche of the aard-wolf, whose jaws, not strong like those of the hyena, compel him to feed upon soft substances. It is, therefore, no uncommon thing for the vee-boor to get up in the morning, and find several of his best sheep divested of their valuable tails, and all through the voracity of the aard-vark.
It was not likely that either Groot Willem or Hendrik was ignorant of the aard-vark. Neither were they. Hendrik did not ride up to examine the animal out of curiosity. He had seen such before, and killed them too. His object in bending over it was to see where Groot Willem’s bullet had hit.
“Where had the creature come from?” he inquired.
Groot Willem replied that it had issued from its burrow—the hole that had caused the “Camel” to stumble. That it had come out, just as he, Groot Willem, recovered his feet; and that, provoked at it for having been the cause of his misfortune, he had sent a bullet through it, otherwise he would not have reckoned it worth his powder and lead.
This explained the report of the roer.
Hendrik and Groot Willem were now about to return for the buck, with the intention of carrying as much of the meat to camp as they could manage upon their horses; when Hans and Arend came up, and the four rode off together.
They quartered the antelope, and each having packed a quarter upon his croup, they set out for the camp.
All of them were in good spirits, except perhaps Groot Willem, who had two reasons for feeling out of sorts,—the loss of his dog, and the loss of a little of his hunter-fame. And he was not permitted to forget his accident so easily, for although Hendrik had forborne to give him further chagrin, yet Hans and Arend did not deal so delicately with him, but both laughed heartily at his unfortunate tumble.