The words of To-la-go-to-de when he joined his friends were few. There was no further account to be made of Captain Skinner and his miners, he told them. They were cunning, and they had taken care of themselves. It had been well to plunder their camp. He himself owed his safety to their old friend No Tongue, and the Lipans must never forget him. The Yellow Head had probably been killed, and they would not see him again. They must now gather all their horses and other plunder, and push their retreat as far as possible before morning. Some other time they would come and strike the Apaches, but it was "bad medicine" for them just now.
Whatever else that may have meant, according to Indian superstition, every warrior could understand that their losses had weakened them too much to think of fighting another hard battle. It was no disgrace to make a great deal of haste under such circumstances, and so, if Red Wolf and the rest had been near enough at that hour, they would have seen Two Knives and what was left of his band riding steadily on, deeper and deeper in among the mountains.
[to be continued.]
[A BUFFALO HUNT IN SOUTH AFRICA.]
I had been hunting from break of day, and although I had seen a number of antelopes and other animals interesting to a sportsman, they were so wild that it was impossible to come within fair shooting range. Moreover, I had the misfortune to be mounted on a very slow horse, which had only sufficient speed to be useful in the chase of elephants. It was, nevertheless, very steady, and stanch as a rock, making it invaluable in pursuit of the latter game.
After I had been quiet for a few hours during the heat of the day, a Bushman came to me with the information that there was a large herd of buffalo close at hand.
As meat was much wanted, I hastened the saddling, and hurriedly departed for the scene of action, with the Bushman as guide, leaving word for the rest of my followers to come after me as soon as possible.
The country was beautiful in this locality. There was a large flat expanse covered with grass, in parts extremely rank, and dotted over here and there with scattered trees, while at intervals of half a mile or more kopjies—an immense jumble of rocks—would crop up to the height of several hundred feet. These masses of rock deserve a word of notice, for they are a peculiar feature of tropical South Africa. Invariably they are composed of a brilliant red sandstone, or of a rusty brown metallic-looking formation, and from their detached and broken positions induce the beholder to think that some powerful volcanic force had shoved them up to their present elevated position.
Strange as it may appear, they are ever covered with a considerable amount of vegetation, particularly wild fig, some varieties of palms, and numerous descriptions of creepers, although it is utterly impossible that there can be any soil or moisture about their roots.