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Hendrik was now the proud man of the hour. He would show them how the slow creatures could be galloped into. He would run half-a-dozen of them down before they could clear out of the plain.
"Come on!"
All once again mounted their horses, and rode briskly towards the herd.
When near, they moved more slowly and quietly, so as not to startle them.
As soon as they had got within the usual distance of four hundred yards, the bucks moved forward; and then came the "view hilloa!" The dogs were let slip, the horses sprang forward, and the chase swept wildly over the plain.
They had not galloped a mile, before Hendrik discovered his mistake.
Both dogs and horses were distanced by the swift antelopes, and both lagged far behind.
One by one the hunters fell into the rear, and drew up their foaming steeds; and in less than twenty minutes time, Hendrik alone, and one or two of the best dogs, held on.
Hans and Arend, believing that it was a hopeless chase for their horses, gave it up; and Groot Willem _did not wish to succeed_! Of course, Klaas and Jan were with the hindmost; and they all sat in their saddles, watching first the purple backs of the bucks, and then the head and shoulders of Hendrik disappearing among the distant ant-hills!
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
HENDRIK'S HARD GALLOP.
On swept the blesboks over the level sward and on galloped Hendrik after them--his horse and dogs running at their utmost speed. For all that, not a yard could either hunter or hounds gain upon the swift antelopes.
There was no chance for either to "run cunning." There was no taking "a cut" upon the game. The blesboks made not the slightest double--swerved not a point from their course, but ran in a straight line, dead in the wind's eye. No advantage, therefore, was given by the pursued, or could be taken by the pursuers. It was a simple question of speed between horse, dogs, and game.
The dogs gave up first. They broke down one after another, until only Hendrik's favourite hound kept near. Another mile's running, and he too was used up, and fell to the rear; and now Hendrik galloped alone.
For nearly ten miles he galloped, until the sweat streamed from his horse's flanks, and the froth from his lips, and still the blesboks scoured on before him at too great a distance to be reached by his rifle. On a fresh horse he could easily have overtaken them now, for they ran but slowly. Perhaps he could have closed upon them as it was, but, with all his desire to do so, he was compelled to ride with caution. The burrows of the ant-eater lay in his path, and once or twice, as he was closing upon the game with good prospect of getting near, his horse had stumbled, and lost ground again. This gave the antelopes a decided advantage, as with light hoof they skimmed over these impediments without fear.
And still Hendrik was reluctant to pull up. He thought of the empty boasting he had made. He thought of the scornful laugh that would greet him on his return. He thought of Groot Willem!
If he could only take back one hide--one pair of horns--all would be well. The laugh would be his. With such thoughts he had been urged forward, in this long and desperate ride.
He began to despair of success. The blesboks seemed to run lightly as ever, while his horse sprang heavily under him. The n.o.ble brute must soon give up.
Hendrik at length felt for him, and would have drawn bridle; but while half-resolved to do so, he noticed a range of mountains directly in front of him. They appeared to extend across the plain transversely to his course, or rather two chains met in a sort of angle, quite closing up the plain in that direction. Towards this angle the blesboks were directing their course!
Did they propose taking to the mountain? was the question put by Hendrik to himself. If so, he might find an advantage there. They might come to a stop, and under cover of the rocks and bushes that grew upon the mountain-side, he might be able yet to stalk them.
As Hendrik reflected thus, his eyes wandered along the base of both ranges from the angle where they met to a good distance on each side.
To his surprise he perceived that the bases of both ended in a precipitous cliff, with no apparent pa.s.s leading up! He was now close enough to see the cliff. Not a break appeared along its whole line!
Hendrik was gratified with this discovery. He was driving the game into an angle, a very _trap_. They would be compelled to turn upon him, and out of such a thick ma.s.s, he could not fail to knock over one. One was all he wanted.
His hopes returned, inspiring him with new vigour; and, uttering a word of encouragement to his horse, he pushed forward.
His ride did not last much longer. Another mile, and it was over.
He had got within five hundred yards of the mountain foot, and less than half that distance from the bucks that still continued to run straight toward the angle of the cliffs. He was now quite sure of a shot. In less than a minute, the herd would be compelled either to stop, or turn back, and meet him in the teeth.
It was time to get his rifle in readiness; and as he intended to fire into the thick ma.s.s, he took several small bullets from his pouch, and hastily dropped them into the barrel. He then looked to his percussion-cap, to make sure that all was right. It was so. The copper was properly adjusted on the nipple.
He c.o.c.ked his gun, and once more looked forward to the game. _Not an antelope was in sight_!
Where were they? Had they sprung up the mountain? Impossible! The precipice could not be scaled? Impossible! Even had they done so, they would still have been seen upon the mountain face. They were not in sight, not one of them! The hunter reined up, his gun dropped back to the withers of his horse, his jaws fell, and for some moments he sat with parted lips, and eyes glaring in wonderment.
Had he been of a superst.i.tious nature, he might have been troubled with some painful feelings at that moment. But he was not superst.i.tious.
Although for a moment or two he could not feel otherwise than astonished at it, he knew there was some natural cause for the "sudden and mysterious disappearance" of the bucks.
He did not pause long in doubt, but proceeded at once to the proper quarter for an explanation. The tracks of the herd guided him to that, and after riding three hundred yards further, the mystery was explained to his full and complete satisfaction.
The angle, after all, was not an angle, for the apex was wanting. There _was_ a "thoroughfare" without the slightest obstruction. Although at a short distance the converging cliffs appeared to impinge upon each other, there was an opening between them--a narrow pa.s.s that like an isthmus connected the plain over which the chase had gone, with another and very similar one that stretched away on the other side of the mountains. The blesboks must have known it well enough, else they would not have run so direct for the false angle in the cliffs. Hendrik trotted up the pa.s.s to convince himself that it was no _cul-de-sac_.
After going a few hundred yards, the isthmus widened again, and he saw to his chagrin the violet backs of the bucks far off upon the plain that stretched beyond.
Overcome with disappointment and chagrin, he flung himself from his saddle, and staggering a few paces, sat down upon a boulder of rock. He did not even stop to fasten his horse, but, dropping the bridle over his neck, left the froth-covered and panting steed to himself.
CHAPTER TWENTY NINE.
HENDRIK CHASED BY THE KEITLOA.
Hendrik's feelings at that moment were not to be envied. His reflections were sharply bitter. He felt mortified and humiliated. He wished he had never set eyes upon a blesbok. A sorry figure would he cut on his return to camp. He had laughed heartily at Hans and Arend.
They would reciprocate that laugh, and add interest. He had ridiculed the idea of Groot Willem. Groot would not fail to pay back his scorn.
Besides, he had done his horse no good; perhaps had injured the animal.
There stood he, with steaming nostrils and heaving flanks, quite used up. They were nearly twelve miles from camp. He would scarce be able to carry his rider back, and Hendrik even began to entertain doubts about his way.
The thought that he might have lost himself was just entering his mind, when his reflections were interrupted by a sound that caused him to start up from that rock, as nimbly as he had ever risen from a seat in his life.
The same sound seemed to produce a very similar effect upon his horse; for the latter, on hearing it, suddenly jerked up his drooping head, p.r.i.c.ked his ears, snorted loudly, and, after dancing about a moment on two, shot off down the pa.s.s at full gallop!
Hendrik's eyes did not follow him, nor his thought neither. Both were too busy with an animal that came from the opposite side, and which had uttered the sound that caused such a sudden alarm. The deep ba.s.s snort and the bellows-like blowing that followed, were no strangers to the ear of the young hunter. He knew that, on looking round, he would behold the black rhinoceros;--and he did so. That fierce creature was coming down the pa.s.s!
At first sight Hendrik was not so terribly alarmed. He had hunted the rhinoceros more than once, and did not deem it such dangerous sport. He had always been able to avoid the charges of the clumsy quadruped, and to escape out of its way when he desired.
But Hendrik for the moment had forgotten that on such occasions he was seated, not on a boulder of rock, but in the saddle, and it was to his horse that he owed his immunity from danger.
Now that his horse had run off, and he found himself afoot upon the plain, with nothing between him and the rhinoceros but twenty yards of smooth level turf, he became truly alarmed. And no wonder at it--his life was in danger.
His first thought was to run up the rocks, thinking by so doing to get out of the animal's reach. But, on looking towards these, he perceived that they formed a precipice on both sides of the pa.s.s, with a wall-like face, that could only have been scaled by a cat! Hendrik could not climb up on either side!
In the pa.s.s itself there was no shelter for him. Its bottom was a smooth sward, sloping but slightly. It was but the continuation of the outer plains, that were nearly on the same level. Here and there stood a tree, but they were small ones--mere "brush," and a rhinoceros could have levelled any of them to the ground with his powerful horn. They offered no hope, either for concealment or retreat.
There appeared no chance of escape in any way. To attempt it by running off would be perfectly useless; for Hendrik knew that a rhinoceros could overtake the swiftest runner, as every South African hunter could testify. Hendrik did not think of it. To add to his ill-fortune, he had left his gun strapped to the saddle, and that was now gone off with the horse; so that his chance of saving himself by the destruction of the rhinoceros was gone also. The only weapon left him was his hunting-knife; but what was a knife against the hide of a rhinoceros?
It might as well have been a needle.
There was but one hope of safety; and that was, that the animal might not _see_ him. The rhinoceros possesses the sense of sight only in a moderate degree. His eyes are small; and though sharp enough when an object is directly in front of him, they are so placed in his head, that, on account of his stiff neck and huge form, he can see nothing either behind or even at either side of him.
Hendrik had hopes the fierce brute would pa.s.s without observing him.