The Rogue Elephant Part 5

THE FIRST HUNT

The place was astir with the dawn, and after sunrise, with breakfast over, the party prepared for the start. Gholab Singh took charge of loading the wagons, and the main question was the matter of personal equipment.

Each of the boys carried matches in a water-tight box, compa.s.s, and sheath-knife, of course. The elephant guns and ammunition were stored away for future reference, but the 30-30s were to be slung in holsters at their saddles for the present. Each wore a bandolier for cartridges, and their ordinary clothes--flannel s.h.i.+rt and khakis. And, instead of sun helmets, each boy wore his northern hat--a light, stiff brimmed Stetson.

"As our shoes go to pieces," said the General, "we'll replace 'em with moccasins. No use fussing with leggings while we're going to ride. We'll have open veldt country as far as Mount Kenia, anyway. Just get the idea that we're in Canada, going by wagon from Athabasca to Fort McMurray."

Dr. von Hofe was the only member of the party who from habit insisted on leggings and boots. Their horses were steady, flea-bitten little beasts, not unlike mustangs, and mounts had been provided for the gun-bearers, to the huge delight of all three. Gholab Singh also demanded a horse, which he obtained, as being worthy of his dignity.

It was a military-looking little cavalcade. The Indians had all served in the native cavalry regiments and Gholab maintained strict military discipline. Behind their saddles the boys strapped slickers and H. B. C.

blankets--the sight of the latter making Jack just a trifle homesick.

Water canteens also were slung at the saddle.

After receiving a letter from Andrus to Jan Botha, Louis Schoverling gave the order to march. Gholab Singh rode to the gate of the compound, reined up, and drew from his neck his silver whistle. One sharp blast, and the two wagons, containing the four who were to bring back the skins, started. A shouted farewell, and the two boys followed the General and von Hofe to the head of the march, the Sikh riding with them and the other gun-bearers on each side of the wagons.

"Isn't this glorious?" declared Charlie as he rode at Jack's side. "I thought it would be as hot as blazes!"

"Oh, we'll need our blankets at night, I guess,--h.e.l.lo! There's an antelope! What kind is he, General?"

Charlie unslung his gla.s.ses hastily to gaze at the quiet figure on a ridge four hundred yards away, but the explorer answered quickly.

"Grant's gazelle, Jack. The most beautiful of all antelopes. He must be an old buck, to judge from his long horns."

"When are we going to hunt a little?" asked Charlie. "I'm itching to get at the guns."

"Not till this afternoon. We can knock over a couple of small antelope then, which will be plenty for all of us. See here, Doctor. These wagons won't make Botha's ranch until sometime to-morrow. How would it suit you to ride on and put up there overnight, then get our Masai all ready to start as soon as the wagons come up?"

"I am very happy," declared von Hofe, who was settled down comfortably in his saddle, his pipe going full blast. "It matters not to me a bit.

Perhaps it would be better to spend to-night in solid comfort."

"Very well. Guru!"

"Yes, sahib?" The Sikh drew up and saluted.

"You will bring the other gun-bearers with us for a short hunt. We are going to have an early meal and then push on. Gholab Singh, I leave the safari in your care. You know the way to Jan Botha's?"

"I do, sahib. We will arrive to-morrow morning at ten of the clock."

Charlie winked at Jack, who smiled. The military precision of the stately Gurkha was of no little amus.e.m.e.nt to them at first, but Gholab promised to be a valuable man in a pinch. The gun-bearers were of little use at present, but would be highly necessary later on, and with their advice Schoverling knew that the two novices in Africa would get along well enough.

Von Hofe having absolutely no interest in hunting, save as regarded his own work, stayed with the wagons. The other six rode out to one side, parallel with the line of march. At a word from Guru, Amir Ali spurred up his horse and departed at a steady gallop to the right.

"He will beat up something," replied the Sikh to their looks of surprise. "Here game is not very thick."

Amir disappeared amid the tall gra.s.s and dotted trees, and five minutes later Charlie, with rifle ready, saw a tiny shape bounding through the gra.s.s two hundred yards to the right.

"You first, Chuck," exclaimed Jack quietly.

Setting his sights for two hundred yards, Charlie aimed behind the shoulder of the antelope, and fired. The shot went a little high, owing to the jump of the beast, but the boy gave a yell of satisfaction as the antelope went down, its back broken by the shot. As they rode up he mercifully killed it with a shot through the brain, and the two boys looked down on their first Thomson's gazelle, or "tommy."

"Good shot, Charlie," declared the explorer. "Now one for you, Jack, and we'll have enough for this time."

A mile or so farther on Jack got his chance at one of the larger Grant's, and fetched him down with a single shot at three hundred yards, which caused the two Indians to give a cry of delight at his skill. By the time Amir rejoined them the wagons, were "hull down" on the horizon. Guru and Akram Das slung the two gazelles over their saddles, and all six started across the veldt at a brisk canter.

Suddenly Jack's horse, in the lead, stopped dead still, trembling. In vain the boy urged him on, wondering what was the matter. The horse only backed, his ears flat, and then Jack saw that those of the others were doing likewise.

"What's the trouble, General?" exclaimed Charlie. Schoverling unslung his rifle.

"Lion, boys. These are well-trained horses, evidently. See that patch of mimosa just ahead? We are down-wind from that, and they probably smelled a lion. Head around it, and they will be all right."

They arrived opposite the little ridge, topped with a dense growth of long gra.s.s, thorn and trees, when an exclamation burst from the Sikh.

Out from the thicket broke a long, tawny shape, barely a hundred yards away. It was a magnificent black-maned lion, who stood las.h.i.+ng his sides and watching them as they drew rein.

"There's your chance for a lion," said Schoverling, as the Indians cast a glance at him. Charlie shrugged his shoulders, watching the animal with eager interest.

"What's the use in killing him, General?" he replied. "We don't want his skin particularly, and he's no good for food. How about it, Jack?"

The other's hand fell from his rifle-b.u.t.t.

"Of course, Chuck. He won't attack us, I suppose?"

"You'd like the excuse, eh?" laughed the explorer. "No, he won't attack us. He's probably got his dinner in that thicket, and heard us coming.

It might be of advantage to the sheep ranchers hereabouts to kill him, but certainly not to us."

They rode on, leaving the tawny beast still gazing after them. The Indians were keenly disappointed over not shooting the lion, but neither boy had cared to do so. They had been too well trained to slaughter needlessly; Jack, in particular, had no small share of the Cree feeling that animals are but "little brothers," and more than once thereafter Charlie heard him mutter the Indian's apology for taking life, as he shot.

Upon rejoining the wagons a halt was made, Gholab Singh taking charge of the gazelles. After a good dinner the four white men rode on ahead, following the rude track across the veldt, and the wagons were speedily out of sight.

"This looks a whole lot like the Alberta and Montana country," declared Charlie as they rode along. "With those hills off in the distance, and the dry gullies fringed with trees, a fellow might think he was just pus.h.i.+ng across our own range land. Wouldn't this be a swell cow country, Jack?"

"Looks like it," rejoined the Cree. "Look at those ostriches! Isn't that a ranch, up there among those b.u.t.tes?"

By the aid of their gla.s.ses they could see a small ranch-house, a good four miles away, but clear-cut and distinct in the rarefied atmosphere of the plateau. White dots were scattered near by, which Schoverling declared were sheep.

"They must suffer to some extent from wild animals," he said, "but on the whole the sheep ranges up here are in fine shape. It's a great little old country, boys. If I could make up my mind to settle down I'd like to take up a few thousand acres back near the hills and try irrigation."

"It is too dry," nodded the doctor wisely. "Some day they will irrigate all this. Then the animals will be gone, all gone."

"What of it?" said Jack slyly. "Folks will come just the same to see the masterpieces made by the great von Hofe! The sooner the game goes, the more valuable you will be."

"Ach, no!" Von Hofe shook his head sadly. "It is not nice to see the fine animals be killed off. Look at South Africa--all the game is gone, all the Zulu kingdoms are gone, and instead there is railroads and mines and factories. It is not nice."

"Well, that's the advance of civilization," declared Schoverling. "It was the same in Ohio and Missouri and Montana--everywhere. And yet there are always new fields to conquer."

"As long as the H. B. C. ran things," flashed up Jack, with the true Indian prejudice, "it was all right in Canada. The Company took care of the game first rate. But now everybody takes a whack at trapping--and where's the beaver gone?"

"True enough," sighed the explorer. "But the hunter must give place to the settler, Jack."