CHAPTER VI.
A DISPUTED PRIZE—RULE OF AFRICAN HUNTING—MRS. ROBERTS.
"I congratulate you," said the fair stranger; "but how are you certain that it was the buffalo I fired at?"
I explained that my tracker had examined the animal and found the wound in the shoulder, as already described. I then mentioned the rule of the chase, of which the reader knows, and told the lady that I surrendered all claim to the prize. As I did so I said, again raising my hat, "I presume I have the honor of addressing Mrs. Roberts?"
"I am Mrs. Roberts," she replied, with a smile; "but how did you know me?"
I explained briefly about my meeting with Miss Boland, and that she informed me of the name of her hunting-companion and the location of their camp, or, at least, its general direction. The lady appeared somewhat surprised, though not altogether so, and I was unable to make out from her manner whether Miss Boland had told her about encountering me in the forest, or had failed to mention the matter in any way.
I then told her my name and where our party was encamped. I offered to conduct her to the spot where her buffalo had met his death, and she assented to the proposition. Her gun-bearer was close at her heels, just as Kalil was close to mine. I told Mirogo to lead the way, and he and the other tracker showed the direction, keeping a short distance in our front. I was in no hurry to reach the spot, but thought my companion was quite willing to have the interview come to an end as soon as convenient. We conversed on hunting-topics, and altogether the conversation was an agreeable one, at least to me.
In all her talk the lady bore herself very modestly, and seemed inclined to give the credit of superior hunting-ability to Miss Boland. She magnified the exploits of her companion and depreciated those of herself.
"Miss Boland," said she, "is a fine hunter in the saddle, which I am not. It is about as much as I can do to attend to the horse and keep on his back, to say nothing of loading a rifle while going at full speed, or dismounting to take a shot. A few days ago," said she, "we chased a herd of elands. Miss Boland brought down the leader of the herd; she had a hard ride for it, and I thought she would have to give it up; but she stuck to it until she got right alongside the eland, and shot him from the saddle. I brought up the rear a good distance away, and did not get near enough for a shot with the longest-range rifle that ever was made. It is proper to say, though, that Miss Boland had a much better horse than I had; it isn't possible to get the speed out of my animal that she can out of hers. We started out on our expedition with three horses apiece, but we've lost one of them, and two others are not in serviceable condition."
"You haven't been in the tsetse-fly country, have you?" I asked.