Hockins released him, picked up his spear, and resumed his creeping way. By this time several of the hunters had dealt silent death around them, but still the herd failed to take alarm!
Being left alone Ebony’s courage returned, and with it his enthusiasm.
“Come,” he muttered, mentally, as he drew the spear from the ground, “’Ockins not killed yet. Das one good job. No use to cry for not’ing. You try again, Ginjah. Better luck nixt time.”
Greatly encouraged by these thoughts he advanced on tip-toe—spear at the charge—eyes glancing sharply all round. Suddenly a tall form seemed to rise up right in front of him. The negro’s heart leaped violently. He was on the point of charging when a doubt assailed him. The creature before him, though scarce distinguishable from the surrounding gloom, was not long-bodied like an ox. He could perceive that clearly. It was tall like a man—very tall. Perhaps it was Mark Breezy? The recent mistake made him think anything possible!
“Is dat you, massa?” he whispered, in anxious alarm.
A furious bellow was the reply, followed by a still more furious charge. Ebony had forgotten that an ox “end on” and head up is tall and not long!
Happily, in stepping back he tripped, and the animal went right over him. But the alarm had been given, and a sudden thundering of feet told that the entire herd had taken to flight, while the shouting and cries of the hunters, added to the confused roaring, showed that there was now no need for concealment.
When the muster-roll was called it was found that nobody was missing or hurt, though several had to tell of narrow escapes, especially John Hockins, whose account of Ebony’s exploit formed, at the feast that followed, subject of interesting converse and much comment during the brief intervals of relaxation between beef-steaks and marrow-bones.
Daylight revealed the fact that somewhere between thirty and forty animals had been killed outright, besides a dozen or so which, having been fatally wounded, were afterwards followed up and some of them secured.
But daylight also brought a large party of men from a distant village with a pressing invitation to Voalavo and his men to pay them a visit, and a possibly disinterested offer to assist him in the consumption of the cattle which he had slain; for it chanced that several young men of this village were encamped in the woods that night near the spot where the hunters attacked the cattle. Knowing full well what was being done, these youths hurried home to tell what was going on. The head-man of the village was on good terms with Voalavo at the time, besides being a distant relative. Hence the message and the invitation.