CHAPTER VII.
A LONELY RIDE.
My route led me from here through a very fine country, consisting of undulating plateaux, covered with splendid mosquito grass, and picturesquely broken up by post oaks; here and there a single conical mound, whose top was covered with a thicket, rose some hundred feet from the plain. It was still early in the evening when I neared one of these mounds, and let my horse refresh itself in a rippling stream at its base. The stream came straight down from the thicket on the mound, and the spot pleased me so well, that I resolved to pass the night there. I rode up the hill to the wood, whose tall trees chiefly consisted of holm oaks, with a thick undergrowth of rhododendra and azaleas. A creeping bignonia was remarkably beautiful as it clambered to the tops of the trees and spread over them its scented blossoms like a shower of fire. The shady green of this wood was relieved by flowers of the most varied hues, one of which I can still remember that is rightly called "the traveller's delight." The flowers of this plant hang in clusters two feet long, rivalling the purest blue of the sky above them, and greet the approaching traveller with a perfume which the fabled East could not surpass. The sources of the stream welled up in the centre of the copse, and were girdled by beds of flowers which, as regards colour and form, could not have been better arranged by an artist.
Here I encamped and hobbled Czar, who mercilessly plucked many a beautiful flower and champed it between his teeth with the tender grass. I then took my rifle in order to see whether there was any dangerous animal in the wood, which was about a thousand yards in diameter. I had crept through it and met nothing except a few old does that had their fawns hidden here, and when I stepped out on to the prairie I saw a herd of large male antelopes grazing about a thousand yards from me. This graceful animal, though frequent in our parts, is rarely killed by the sportsman, for it is the most shy of animals. Great curiosity alone brings it at times in the vicinity of the watching gun, and hence I tried to attract the bucks grazing ahead of me. I chose a spot covered with rather tall grass, lay down on it with my cocked rifle by my side, but drew my ramrod out and fastened my handkerchief to it. I then whistled so loudly that the sound reached the antelopes. All looked round towards me at once, and I raised one foot in the air and lowered it again a minute after. I saw that they had noticed it and were leaping about; I then raised the pocket-handkerchief and lowered it again, upon which the herd got in motion, led by one of the largest bucks. They came near me in a large circle, but I continued my telegraphic motions till the antelopes, urged by their fatal curiosity, came within shot, and their leader fell bleeding among the flowers, giving the flying herd a sad parting glance with its large beauteous eyes. I jumped up and fired my second barrel after the fugitives. Clap! I heard the bullet enter the mark, and another buck fell on the grass after a few more bounds.
Hunting is the most cruel sport to which a man can devote himself; I repented of my second shot, for I could make no use of the animal, as a few pounds of the meat amply satisfied my wants. The charm lay solely in the query, "Can you hit or not?" If this doubt be removed, it is all over with the passion, and no one would go out sporting for the pleasure. I must naturally see where the animals were hit, for that is the real enjoyment to know how near you have gone to the right spot, and hence I walked up to the bucks to choose the best of the meat for my consumption at the same time. The one first shot was the plumpest, and carried a pair of large beautiful horns which I regretted I could not take with me. The antelopes do not shed their horns like stags; they are formed more like goat's horns, and annually grow further out of the head: they are brown and bent back at the point like chamois horns. The form of the antelope much resembles that of the deer, but it is rather lighter on the legs and of a brighter hue; its weight does not exceed 120 lbs. The eye of this graceful creature is certainly one of the loveliest that nature has given to any of her creatures, and I have often turned away from the look of a dying antelope because I could not endure the reproach that it expressed.