“Try and not be absent longer than you can help,” said Mrs Broderick, as she wished her son good-night—for the party were to start the next morning. “Although I apprehend no danger, we cannot tell what may occur.”
“There is nothing to fear,” answered Rupert, “and meat we must have, that’s very certain. My father would not object to my going under the circumstances; for if I sent the Kaffirs alone, they are such bad shots that they may bring back nothing, though they are very useful in finding the game and helping me to kill it.”
Before daybreak Rupert and Crawford were in their saddles, and Percy was up to see them off, as were his sisters, who had insisted on rising to give them breakfast before starting, a delicate attention which Crawford duly appreciated.
Followed by two Zulus, also well mounted, they directed their course to the lower ground in the south-west, where game most abounded. The air was pure and fresh when they started, coming from the hills, and both young men felt in the highest possible spirits, and ready for the sport. As the sun rose, however, and they got on the lower ground, the heat increased, and they appeared to have passed into a different region. Occasionally from the woods came the cheerful chirp of the feathered tribe, but otherwise, all around was hot, silent, and lonely.
“We shall be in sight of some game soon, or I am much mistaken,” observed Rupert. “I’ll send the Kaffirs out on either side to turn them towards us, and it will be hard if we don’t manage to knock over some before long. I ordered the two Hottentot boys to bring on the light waggon to take home the game, for we can carry back but a small portion on our horses.”
Just as he spoke, a troop of graceful pallahs appeared bounding along in the distance. They stopped gazing in wonder and terror at the strangers, while the two Kaffirs, making a wide circuit, galloped on in the hope of cutting them off. Still the animals stood gazing until Rupert and Crawford got considerably nearer, when two or three of them were seen to change their places; then suddenly the whole herd, each leaping high in the air, started off as fast as they could go, apparently endeavouring to avoid one of the Zulus who was coming up. The effect was singularly pretty, as they made bound after bound, the red on their backs and sides, and the white on the under parts of their bodies, alternately appearing and disappearing. In vain the hunters rode after them.
“We may have some of those fellows yet, though,” observed Rupert; “but we must be more careful how we approach them.”
Almost immediately afterwards some loud sneezes were heard, and looking to the right they caught sight of a troop of mingled gnus and quaggas, passing and repassing without a pause. Every now and then a gnu would rush out from among the crowd, whisk his tail, give a sneeze, and then rush back again amongst his comrades. Now and then a young gnu was seen to fall behind with its mother, or the bull would drop out of the ranks, and switching it severely with its long tail, compel it to keep up. The older quaggas also seemed to keep their youngsters in excellent order.
Frequently, for some misdemeanour, one of the elder animals, with its ears back, would make a rush at one of the smaller ones, and give it a severe bite as a hint to it to keep in its place. As the hunters got near the herd, the animals, turning their heads towards them for an instant, suddenly whisked round, giving a glance back as they did so, with a cunning expression, as much as to say, “You’ll not catch me this time,” and off they set.
The quaggas and gnus, however, soon after separated, going off in different directions. As the ground appeared more favourable in the direction the quaggas had taken, Rupert proposed that they should give chase to them.