Denis at once set to work to skin the animal. Neither Percy nor Lionel could render him much assistance, and he was very glad when Gozo made his appearance. The Kaffir had shot a wildebeest, he said, but he had come to assist them in disposing of theirs. It was agreed that the parts of the flesh which were worth preserving should be left in the bush, covered up with branches, so as to prevent the hyenas and jackals from getting at it until their return.
It took them some time, and their task accomplished, they sat down to enjoy some of the food they had brought in their holsters. Although they might without shame have returned to camp, satisfied with their morning’s sport, they had a wish to secure some larger and more valuable game. Their patient horses stood all the time cropping the leaves and herbage near them; for grass, properly speaking, there was none.
Their lunch over and their thirst quenched with some water which they had brought, although there was none for the horses, they again mounted, and continued in the direction they were before going.
They had applied so frequently to the water bottles, that their stock was soon exhausted; but supposing that they should speedily arrive at the river, they did not trouble themselves much about the matter, until they began to feel the unpleasant sensations of extreme thirst. Percy, less accustomed to the climate than his companions, suffered greatly.
“When shall we reach the river?” he exclaimed at last. “My throat feels like a dust bin. I shall choke if I can’t pour some liquid down before long.”
“Never fear,” answered Denis; “just try not to think about it. I’ll ask Gozo how far the river is off. It cannot be more than half a mile now, I should think.”
The Kaffir, however, did not give a satisfactory answer. It was some time since he had been in that direction, and it might be farther than he supposed.
“Then the faster we push on the better,” cried Denis. “Whollop-ahoo-ahoo! on we go;” but although he whipped his unfortunate steed, the animal refused to move at a quicker pace. All the horses showed signs of suffering. They opened their mouths, turned up their nostrils, and the foam was seen gathering on their lips. They were riding on when, as they were approaching a thicket, a sound, as if a battle was going on between some of the brute creation, reached their ears—roarings, snortings, and bellowings.
“What can produce that tremendous uproar?” cried Percy.
“Gozo says it is a lion belching,” answered Lionel; “but there’s some other animal, and we must be ready to fire or get out of its way.”