CHAPTER VI.

A DISPUTED PRIZE—RULE OF AFRICAN HUNTING—MRS. ROBERTS.

"I congratulate you," said the fair stranger; "but how are you certain that it was the buffalo I fired at?"

I explained that my tracker had examined the animal and found the wound in the shoulder, as already described. I then mentioned the rule of the chase, of which the reader knows, and told the lady that I surrendered all claim to the prize. As I did so I said, again raising my hat, "I presume I have the honor of addressing Mrs. Roberts?"

"I am Mrs. Roberts," she replied, with a smile; "but how did you know me?"

I explained briefly about my meeting with Miss Boland, and that she informed me of the name of her hunting-companion and the location of their camp, or, at least, its general direction. The lady appeared somewhat surprised, though not altogether so, and I was unable to make out from her manner whether Miss Boland had told her about encountering me in the forest, or had failed to mention the matter in any way.

I then told her my name and where our party was encamped. I offered to conduct her to the spot where her buffalo had met his death, and she assented to the proposition. Her gun-bearer was close at her heels, just as Kalil was close to mine. I told Mirogo to lead the way, and he and the other tracker showed the direction, keeping a short distance in our front. I was in no hurry to reach the spot, but thought my companion was quite willing to have the interview come to an end as soon as convenient. We conversed on hunting-topics, and altogether the conversation was an agreeable one, at least to me.

In all her talk the lady bore herself very modestly, and seemed inclined to give the credit of superior hunting-ability to Miss Boland. She magnified the exploits of her companion and depreciated those of herself.

"Miss Boland," said she, "is a fine hunter in the saddle, which I am not. It is about as much as I can do to attend to the horse and keep on his back, to say nothing of loading a rifle while going at full speed, or dismounting to take a shot. A few days ago," said she, "we chased a herd of elands. Miss Boland brought down the leader of the herd; she had a hard ride for it, and I thought she would have to give it up; but she stuck to it until she got right alongside the eland, and shot him from the saddle. I brought up the rear a good distance away, and did not get near enough for a shot with the longest-range rifle that ever was made. It is proper to say, though, that Miss Boland had a much better horse than I had; it isn't possible to get the speed out of my animal that she can out of hers. We started out on our expedition with three horses apiece, but we've lost one of them, and two others are not in serviceable condition."

"You haven't been in the tsetse-fly country, have you?" I asked.

"No, we haven't as yet," she answered, "and we're deliberating whether to go there or not. We have been told that there's some fine buffalo-hunting up in the fly country, and want to go there; but of course if we do we must leave our horses behind, or be put to the pain of seeing them die."

I may as well explain to the reader that the tsetse-fly is one of the scourges of certain parts of Africa. It is about the size of the common house-fly, or a little larger, and is harmless to horned cattle and donkeys, and also harmless to the human race; but, to use a slang expression, it is "death on horses." The bite of a tsetse-fly causes the death of a horse in a very short time; the skin swells enormously, great festering sores follow, and no remedy has yet been found for the bite. The valleys of certain rivers and lakes are infested with these flies, while other parts of the country are entirely free from them. Sometimes they are found on one side of a river but not on the other, and the alternations of heat and cold do not seem to have any effect in driving them away.

We had quite a talk about the flies, and speculated as to the reason why some animals were attacked and others exempt. Other travelers have speculated on the same subject before and since, but I presume their investigations had no more practical result than ours did.

"Our foreman told us," said Mrs. Roberts, "that up in the fly country there were great herds of buffaloes—thousands of animals in a herd—and that this was about the time for attacking them. I don't think we are quite equal to one of the large herds, but after the other hunters have gone in and broken them up we might attack some of the stragglers."

I was able to tell the lady something about that style of hunting, as I had been engaged in it the previous year. "A party of us formed a camp on a little stream called the Gumban; then we sent out native hunters in all directions to visit the drinking-places of the buffaloes, find the large troops of the animals, and break them up. The buffaloes form into these troops in the summer and get broken up in the winter by the hunters. We were lucky enough to find one of the largest troops, which was known to the natives as the 'dust-raiser.' It was several days before we struck the herd, but when we did we had lively work. My first experience with one of that herd was something to remember."

"I would like very much to hear about it," said Mrs. Roberts, "if you have no objection to telling me."

"Oh, not at all," I replied; "on the contrary, it will give me great pleasure. It was a very brief affair, as I came suddenly upon the animal when he was standing under a tree. I was not aware that any buffalo was about, and was carrying a rifle loaded for koodoo. My gun-bearer was behind me with my large rifle, and I quickly exchanged one for the other. I took a shot at the buffalo, but it was not sufficient to bring him down. He turned and charged upon me; I dodged behind a tree, and as he went past and was turning to come back at me I gave him a second shot which laid him low.

"Half an hour after that," said I, "I met my friend Harry, who was of our hunting-party, and when he caught sight of me he came forward on a run. He said he had wounded a buffalo and it had retreated into a very disagreeable place—into a thorn-thicket, where it was not easy to follow. He proposed that we should get on opposite sides of the thicket—which was not very large—and then send our trackers in to drive the animal out.

"I had a quiet laugh to myself," I continued, "because I saw a very large defect in his scheme. The thicket was not far off, and we went to it; but when Harry suggested that the trackers should go inside they demurred emphatically. There was a tall tree at the side of the thicket, and I proposed that Harry should climb that tree with the aid of his tracker, and from that point he would be able to see his game; I would stand at the foot of a tree at the opposite side of the thicket, and be prepared to meet the animal in case it came out at that point.

"Harry acted according to my suggestion, and after reaching an elevation of about thirty feet he called out that he could see the buffalo distinctly. Then he gave it a shot, and it looked around very much surprised, not knowing whence it was assaulted. Another shot followed, and then the beast made a break outside the thicket close to my position. I managed to lay it low, and then I shouted to Harry that he could descend from his perch."

"I've been telling Miss Boland," said Mrs. Roberts, "that a good way to shoot buffaloes—certainly a safe way—would be to climb a tree and shoot from a secure place in the limbs. She answers me that it is not a fair way of fighting, and nowhere near as exciting as the way in which the buffalo is usually hunted. I presume she is right; in fact, I know she is. She is braver than I am, and takes risks in hunting that I am unwilling to take."

"I don't think there can be any question of your bravery, Mrs. Roberts," I replied, "after what I have seen this morning. You certainly took your chances with that buffalo, and I'll warrant you've done the same before. You have dodged behind trees and perhaps have climbed them, just as many a man has done in this African shooting."

"Oh yes," she said, with a laugh, "I'm not by any means without experience in hunting-risks, only I think it would be just as well for all of us if we consulted our safety a little more, and had some regard for the possibilities of getting back to our homes in due course of time."

"Very few people think of safety when they set out on a hunting-excursion," I replied. "Of course they consider the question a little when face to face with big game, and I don't think there would be any difference between men and women on that score. A cool head is requisite at all times, and any one who cannot command that should not venture into the hunting-field where the quarry is a dangerous one."

"I agree with you there," the lady responded, "and that's where our sex is decidedly at a disadvantage."

"How so?" I asked, with an air of wonder and surprise.

"Oh, you know perfectly well," said she, "that it's a habit of women to faint in presence of danger, and what would become of a fainting woman before an infuriated buffalo or elephant? I'm afraid it would be her last hunt."

"Yes, I am afraid of that too," I replied; "but I think you do injustice to your sex. Women generally faint after the danger is over, if they faint at all; as long as the peril is present they are as nervy as the sterner sex. Of course that's not the invariable rule, but I think it's so in the majority of cases."

"Thank you for the compliment," she answered; "perhaps we'll have a chance to discuss this subject further. Here we are at your buffalo."

"I beg pardon, madam; not my buffalo—your buffalo."

"Oh now," she answered, "I think it belongs to you; never mind about the rule of South African hunting, as the animal had escaped me entirely, and I should never have seen it again or heard from it but for you. You had a narrow risk of your life when you brought it down."

I insisted that the animal was her prize, and that it was not proper to violate the laws of the country. "There isn't much law here," I added, "except that of custom, and nothing can be more binding than an established rule."

"Well, if you insist upon it," she replied, "rather than violate the practice of the country I will accept the prize as mine, and in doing so I thank you most heartily for the share you took in obtaining it for me. Perhaps I may have the pleasure of returning the service some time—no, stop! it isn't fair to suppose that you ever miss a shot, and consequently I should never have the opportunity."

"There never yet was a hunter," I answered—"at least I've never heard of one—who was invariably successful in his pursuit of game, especially of large game. Even such mighty nimrods as Gordon Cumming, Sir Samuel Baker, and others whose names you know, have many stories to tell of game that escaped, not only after one, but after many bullets."

"That's true," she replied; "and I remember how Cumming returned on several occasions after an entire day in pursuit of elephants without securing a single one. Instead of being disheartened at the result it only nerved him to further exertion, and he persisted in the chase until he had made a good record."

Then, suddenly looking at the sky, the fair hunter asked me if I could give a guess as to what time it was. I may remark that it is not customary to carry a watch in one's pocket when out after buffaloes or elephants; the African hunter generally takes his time by the position of the sun or by rough-and-tumble guesswork.

"I think it is along in the neighborhood of noon," I answered—"certainly within an hour of it."

"Thank you, thank you very much," she responded; then she paused and surveyed the horns of her prize, and seemed to forget my presence entirely.

I took this as a hint that I had better be going; so, raising my hat, I said, "I bid you good-day, madam, and hope I may have the pleasure of meeting you again, and possibly of helping secure for you another prize like this."

CHAPTER VII.

STALKING A KOODOO—HARRY AND JACK AMONG ELANDS—CAUGHT
IN A PITFALL.

I was bowing myself away when Mrs. Roberts, with a gracious smile, said:

"I am greatly pleased to have met you, and if it should be in your way to pass near our encampment it would give us pleasure to see you."

I thanked her for the invitation, and said it would give me pleasure to accept it. Then I made my adieus and turned back to the tree where I had separated from Harry and Jack, they going in pursuit of the elands and I starting out on foot for buffaloes.

Mirogo sent the Kafirs to skin both the buffaloes and bring in the horns and tongue of the big one and the meat of the yearling. The Kafirs reported that Harry and Jack had disappeared in pursuit of the elands; the last seen of them they had crossed a ridge to the south three or four miles away. I knew they would have a long ride for it, and if I set out in pursuit it would be a good while before I could overtake them. Away to the east, half a mile or so, the Kafirs reported some koodoos, and I thought it would be a good plan to stalk them. So, leaving Mirogo and Kalil behind, I took my small rifle, with a beltful of ammunition suited to it, and away I started.

There is an old saying that you do not hunt ducks with a brass band, and you do not hunt koodoo with a tracker and a gun-bearer. Like all animals of the antelope kind, the koodoo is very shy and also very sharp-sighted. To stalk him you must do a great deal of creeping on the ground, and take advantage of every bush, tree, rock, ant-hill, or anything else that rises more than six inches from the ground. It is far easier to approach an elephant than a koodoo; in fact, it is a complete science to be an accomplished hunter of this animal or any of his African kindred. One of each herd is generally on the watch, and they seem to select him for his superior eyesight, hearing, and powers of smelling. You must study the wind down to a single point of the compass, take your bearings with the utmost care, and then creep along very much as a cat creeps after a mouse before she makes her spring. If the animals see you there is no use following them; turn right about, go in the contrary direction, and circle around until you come in on the opposite side, provided the wind will permit you to do so.

I have heard old hunters say that they were perfectly satisfied if they got one good chance in a day to shoot a koodoo. Knowing this, the reader will understand how anxious I was to succeed in my hunt, and that I was willing to put myself to a great deal of inconvenience and trouble in the hope of bagging my game.

The ground was quite open where the koodoos were, but within half a mile of them there was a stretch of scattered bushes. I made for these bushes till I got around a point that was nearest to the herd and also was off-wind, and then I began the snake and cat business to my best abilities. I utilized every little obstruction on the ground, and when there was none I dragged myself along by means of my elbows, pushing my gun in front of me and taking care not to get dirt in the muzzle of it. There were perhaps a dozen koodoos in the herd, and one fine old buck was posted as sentinel. He kept turning slowly around, surveying all points of the compass; and whenever his head was in my direction I lay as still as the ground on which I rested. When he turned away I slipped forward a length or two, and sometimes, by great good fortune, half a dozen lengths.

The sun was hot—not only hot, but blazingly so. Whenever my hand touched the ironwork of my gun it seemed as if it would raise a blister; and with my back exposed to the rays of the orb of day, I felt as though I were standing before the furnace of an iron-foundry. The perspiration poured out of me, and had it not been for my determination to bag a koodoo I should have abandoned the chase and gone back to camp.

It was not only the heat that came near breaking me up on that hunt, but a snake, and a poisonous one at that. As I was dragging myself along over the ground, imagine my horror at seeing a serpent about six feet long lying directly in front of me and not more than three yards away! I came very near springing up and jumping backward, which of course would have ended the koodoo-hunt then and there; but I restrained myself. My next thought was to shoot the reptile, but to do so would have been equally fatal to my sport.

After a moment of thought—and it was only a moment—I adopted the tactics of the crab, and moved backward. I did not turn around, as I wanted to keep my face in the direction of his snakeship, who seemed to be asleep and sunning himself. I backed away three or four yards and then made a detour around my unpleasant neighbor, sufficiently far away from him not to disturb his slumbers.

I was afraid of coming on more snakes, but luckily that was the only one I encountered. He was what is known as a mamba, and is found in various parts of South Africa. The one I saw was a small one; we killed a snake of this kind one day under our wagon, and when he was stretched out on the grass he measured about eleven feet in length. Mambas of ten or twelve feet are by no means uncommon. Their bite is poisonous; dogs bitten by them die within an hour or two, and the same is the case with small animals. Human beings live longer, but the bite of one of these serpents is almost sure to be fatal. Some of the native tribes have a superstitious reverence for them, and do not kill them; but the majority of Africans generally try to despatch them if they can.

The herd of koodoos gradually fed around in my direction, so that they were between me and the sentinel. I wanted to bag him, but of course their position rendered it impossible. I had had my eye on him for some time, and when the rest of them got around toward where I was I thought of the Irishman who gave as his excuse for not firing at a flock of ducks, "Whenever I get a bead on one, another swims right in between him and me!"

I singled out the best buck of the herd and stalked up to within forty yards of him. Then, when he presented a good broadside, I let him have it, and brought him to the ground. He was up almost in an instant, and so was I; and I gave him another shot, which again floored him, this time for good. I ran forward and plunged my hunting-knife into his throat to make sure that he did not escape me. Of course the others were off like the wind, but I paid no attention to them; my thirst for glory was satisfied for that day.

The men had been watching me from the tree where I left my horse. The report of the gun, the smoke, and my handkerchief, which I waved in the air, brought them, and with them my horse Brickdust, which was led along at a slow trot by the Kafir who had charge of him. I mounted and rode to camp, while the Kafirs attended to skinning the koodoo and bringing in the meat.

Harry and Jack had not reached camp when I got there, and they did not return until nearly sunset. They had good luck in their chase of the elands, Harry shooting one and Jack bringing down two. Harry's was the largest of the three, and consequently he claimed that the honors were about even. They had a lively chase after them, and by the time they got through their horses were pretty well used up.

"In two or three places," said Harry, "we came near breaking our necks in pitfalls that the Kafirs had made for game; and in one instance if it had not been for the intelligence of my horse I should have gone headlong into a hole about eight feet deep. The horse saw the hole before I did, and swerved quickly to one side; if we had gone full speed into that pitfall I am afraid it would have been all over with both horse and rider."

These native pitfalls are oftentimes a great nuisance and also a great danger to the hunter. The natives dig them in localities where the animals are apt to run, and consequently they are right in the way which a hunter takes when he is pursuing a herd. Sometimes the pitfalls are open, and strung along in connection with one another for a considerable distance. The natives surround a herd on three sides and then drive it in the direction of the traps. If an animal tumbles in he cannot get out, and is easily speared or otherwise slaughtered by his captors.

One day, while I was stalking a herd of gemsbok, I walked plump into a pitfall that was seven feet deep. The hole had been covered over with bushes, grass, and a sprinkling of earth, so that it looked for all the world like the ground in its immediate vicinity. I was sneaking along, bent nearly to the ground, with my eye on the game ahead of me, when suddenly I felt the earth give way, and it seemed as though I was dropping half-way to the other side of the world. I fetched up at the bottom all in a heap and half stunned. When I gathered myself up and rubbed my eyes I found that my gun was lying on the bottom of the pit with the muzzle directly toward me and both locks at full cock!

My hair had been standing on end when I brought myself up to a sitting posture; when I saw my gun and its position every individual hair on my head was frozen stiff!

There was a native kraal not very far from where my friends killed their elands, and of course the people came out to share in the spoils. Whenever a hunt of any kind is in progress, if there are any Kafirs or Zulus about they are sure to come, partly out of curiosity to see the sport, but more particularly to eat up any trifle of game that may be left over. It was so in this case. My friends selected the cuts that they wanted from the animals, and hired some of the people to bring them to camp. The rest was turned over to the crowd and disposed of in short order. As a general thing these natives do not take the trouble to carry the game to their kraals, especially if they are a long way off, but they build a fire on the spot, sit down, and begin their feast.

The jackals and hyenas come around and hang about at a respectful distance, waiting for what is left over. By the time the natives are through the jackals and hyenas have pretty poor picking, unless the quantity of game is very large and the number of people small. A dozen or twenty natives will get away with the best part of a fair-sized buffalo; after they have eaten their fill they lie down and rest until there is space for a little more, when they rise and resume eating.

With the natives of South Africa it is generally a feast or a famine, and I may also remark that it is very much the same with a hunter: there are days in camp when his supply of food is more than he knows what to do with, and these are preceded or followed by days when his stomach is well-nigh empty, if not entirely so.

After my friends had told their experience of the day I narrated mine. Something put it into my head to say nothing about my encounter with amazon No. 2, and so I avoided all allusion to the subject. I thought I would keep the whole matter to myself until I had visited the camp of the ladies and made their acquaintance; but Harry spoiled my game by driving me into a corner where it was necessary to lie outright or "acknowledge the corn."

"By the way, Frank," said he, as we had finished our stories, "did you see anything of our neighbors, the women, about whom you told us?"

"Oh yes," I replied, "I was coming to that." (Fact is, I was not coming to it at all.)

"Well, what about it?" queried Harry. "Did you see either or both of them, or did you happen on their camp?"

Then I told what the reader knows, though really I told the story much more briefly than I have elsewhere given it. I merely remarked that I met the one who called herself Mrs. Roberts, and killed a buffalo which she had wounded.

"Oho!" said Harry, and Jack said "Oho!" at the same time.

"Well, what's the meaning of 'Oho!' I'd like to know?"

"It means," said Jack, "that you seem to have struck a streak of luck; in two days you run across both of them and make yourself agreeable. Did she invite you to call on them?"

"Yes," I answered, "in a civil sort of way; didn't appear as if she cared whether I called or not."

"Well, probably she didn't," said Harry; "but she couldn't very well avoid doing so after you'd killed a buffalo for her. One must show a little appreciation of courtesy even in South Africa. I suppose you'll call?"

CHAPTER VIII.

AFRICAN HORSE-SICKNESS—TWO NARROW ESCAPES IN
ELEPHANT-HUNTING—JACK AND HIS HORSE.

"That's a very natural supposition," I replied; "of course I shall. After being here in this country for weeks without hearing a feminine voice or seeing a white woman's face, any one who calls himself a man would gladly accept an invitation like that. I shall certainly drop in at their camp the first time I'm that way."

"Yes, and you'll make it your way very soon," said Jack; "I would if it were my case."

"Are we in it at all?" said Harry. "Did your invitation include your friends?"

"Not as yet," said I, "but I presume it will in due course of time. At any rate, when I do visit their camp I'll mention you, as I have already, and will give you good characters—that is, as good as I can."

"Thank you," said Jack; "and we'll promise when our turn comes that we'll sound your praises."

We had a little more good-natured raillery on this subject, and just as it ended we were called out to look at one of the horses, which had gone sick. He showed every symptom of the horse-disease peculiar to South Africa, which has carried away so many animals of greater or less value. When a horse sickens it is necessary to bleed him freely, and if this is done in time he may be saved. One of the most trying things to a hunter in Africa is the loss of his horses, whether by the African disease or the tsetse-fly. The latter can be avoided by keeping away from the country where the fly abounds, but no amount of caution can avoid the former. Horses that have had the disease and have recovered are said to be "salted," and are much more valuable than those that have not passed through it. Having had it once, they are not altogether exempt from it, like a child with the measles and other infantile maladies, but they are far less liable to a second attack than they were to the first.

After the incident of the horse we sat down to supper, which consisted principally of a stew made of the koodoo that I killed, and the tongues of the elands broiled over coals of thorn-bushes, the whole washed down with coffee, and a thimbleful of brandy at the end. Then came our pipes and a chat about what we had best do the next day.

Our Kafirs reported a small herd of elephants three or four miles to the eastward. They were sighted along in the afternoon, and as they had not been disturbed at all it was thought they would remain where they were until the next day. We decided that we would go in pursuit of them, making an early start, so as to get the most of the hunt over before the great heat of the day.

In the morning we sent off the trackers an hour or so before we started ourselves, with directions to make out the position of the herd, so that we should lose no time in getting to work. We followed on horseback, and when we had accomplished about two thirds of the distance to the forest we met a Kafir who had been sent back by Mirogo to tell us that the elephants were there. At the edge of the forest we dismounted, leaving our horses in charge of the men, under the shade of a large tree which was about a quarter of a mile from the woodland where the elephants were. Harry and Jack were posted on opposite sides of the forest, while I went into the wood, accompanied by Mirogo and Kalil. I had my two heaviest rifles, and was prepared to do good work if the opportunity offered.

The scheme was for me to do the best I could while among the trees; of course my first shot would alarm the entire herd, and as the forest was not large they would be pretty sure to run out of it. Harry and Jack were to take shots at them, if possible, from their points of concealment, and then signal for their horses to be brought, and pursue the big game on horseback over the open country. I was to come out of the wood as soon as whatever work I could do there was accomplished, and follow the example of my friends; that is, mount my horse and chase the herd.

It was not long after entering the forest before Mirogo, who was leading, came upon the spoor of the elephants. It was evident there was a number of them—all the way from five or six to twice as many—and the spoor showed that they were animals of the first class so far as size was concerned.

There was no difficulty in following the spoor, as the herd made quite a track through the underbrush, and so facilitated my movements a good deal. In a little while we heard the crashing of bushes and the usual noise that an elephant makes when he is feeding or leisurely proceeding through a wooded country. We hurried along cautiously, and presently I caught sight of a bull with a magnificent pair of tusks.

Before I could get a shot at the fellow or any of his companions something disturbed them. What it was I did not know; perhaps they caught our wind from some direction, or, the herd being a little scattered, they may have caught the wind from the parties outside the forest and passed the signal along from one to another. They made trumpet-calls to indicate some sort of elephant-talk, and then they seemed to huddle together, as nearly as I could make out, for a consultation. At all events, they got out of my sight, and very soon I heard them crashing out of the woods at a great rate.

I knew it was useless to follow on foot, and so made my way back again out of the forest to where the Kafirs were holding the horses.

I had just reached the tree where my horse was when I saw the elephants coming out and making across the open country for another patch of forest three or four miles away. There were four bull-elephants and five or six cows; the bulls were magnificent fellows and the cows by no means an ordinary lot. I was nearer to the herd than either Jack or Harry, and that gave me choice of the beasts. I singled out the largest of the bulls and gave chase.

Ranging my horse up alongside I gave him a couple of bullets just back of the shoulder, aiming wild, of course, as the horse was at a gallop and there was no time to dismount. After the second bullet he turned and stood facing me, as if undecided what to do. Then he came on with a terrific charge, and I wheeled the horse very quickly to avoid him.

After that he continued on his journey after the rest of the herd, and I followed him and gave him another dose. This brought the elephant around again, and as he came about I determined to give him a ball in the chest; and this time I put in the gun a cartridge with an explosive ball, which would certainly astonish him, at any rate.

When I raised my gun for the purpose of firing, the horse tossed his head and prevented me from taking aim. While I was trying to pacify him the bull came on, and I fired at random. I evidently did not hit the elephant at all; I aimed directly over the horse's head, and think the bullet must have come disagreeably near to his ear, as he gave a sudden jerk to one side, which threw the near rein over on the off side and unfastened the curb-chain, the bit turning right around in his mouth.

Here was a pretty predicament, and if there had been time for reflection I should have regretted that I ever came to Africa to hunt elephants or other big game. The great brute was not fifty feet away from me, with his trunk elevated in the air, his immense ears flapping, and his trumpet sounding in the most vicious manner. I had no control over the horse on account of the position of the reins and bit, and so I dug the spurs into his side to get a move on him someway.

The horse went straight for the elephant, and I thought it would be the end of the animal and his rider. I leaned over as far as possible on the side farthest from the elephant, and as I went by him his trunk was within six feet of me. I drove the spurs into the horse, and on he went for fifty yards or so, where we brought up against three small trees that stood in a sort of triangle. We got through these trees, but I was nearly dragged from the horse in so doing, and it is a wonder that I was able to hold on to my gun. I clung, however, to the gun and the reins, and on we went, jumping over thorn-bushes, and through a tangled sort of thicket, and over ground full of holes.

The horse was nearly down several times, and I narrowly escaped being pitched overhead, as the ground was very heavy and not at all adapted to a promenade on horseback.

All this time the elephant was close after us and generally not more than ten or twenty yards behind us. I got clear of him by moving in circles, guiding the horse as well as possible by pressing on his neck and encouraging him in every way I could. When one is chased by an elephant the best way of escape is by doubling on him; he cannot turn quickly, and there is where you have him at a disadvantage.

As soon as there was a chance to pull up I jumped off the horse, arranged the bridle, and mounted again to pursue my elephant, who was moving in the direction the herd had taken. I came up to him and renewed the hostilities, giving him in all ten shots, and being charged three times, the last time for fully half a mile. Then I gave him an explosive bullet right between the eye and ear, and he came to the ground. My horse was completely blown by that time, and as for myself, I was ready to drop with exhaustion. It was one of the hardest chases I ever had after an elephant, and I do not know of one on which I had a closer call.

Harry and Jack went in pursuit of the herd soon after I singled out my prize. Harry said that he got up so close to one that the horse's nose almost touched him, Harry's intention being to watch a favorable moment, come around to the elephant's side, and give him a shot there. It is very little use shooting at an elephant's rear, as there is nothing but a great mass of flesh there; several ounces of lead deposited in it make no particular difference in the animal's movements. Suddenly his elephant turned to see who it was that was accompanying him; this gave a chance for a broadside, which Harry embraced, planting a bullet in the beast's shoulder. Harry dropped back again to reload, and then followed up through a mass of tall bushes that concealed the animal from sight. He dashed on to overtake the elephant, and came near being caught by his antagonist.

The elephant had stopped in a place where the path turned suddenly, and Harry was almost under his trunk before he saw him. The bull trumpeted furiously and made a terrific charge. The horse whirled instantly, but Harry drove the spurs into him, when the two went through a mass of thorn and other bushes that they would not have dreamed of venturing into at any other time. Harry's encounter with the bushes was very evident when he turned up, as his clothes were torn in shreds and his flesh was gashed and scratched in many places; half the skin was torn from his hands, and he was not at all a presentable object for a drawing-room; and, besides, he lost his elephant!

Jack was more fortunate, for he bagged his elephant—one of the bulls—and had about as lively a time in getting him as I had with mine. In some respects it was livelier, as he was pitched from his horse while the elephant was chasing him, and the great beast actually passed within two feet of where Jack was lying at the side of the path. The horse caught his foot in a hole and stumbled, throwing his rider to the ground; he was up on his feet in an instant and off to one side, while Jack crawled or rolled out of the path along which the elephant was coming. The animal had such a momentum that he could not stop, and after getting by he seemed to regard the horse as his principal assailant and followed him for a hundred yards or so. Then he gave up the chase and proceeded in the direction of his companions.

Jack's horse was a wonderfully docile creature; when the elephant ceased following him he stopped and waited for his master's call. Jack whistled, and the intelligent animal ran to him at once. My friend gathered up his gun, remounted, and was immediately off like the wind in pursuit of his tusker, which he soon laid low.

We spent the evening in telling the stories of our adventures during the day and laying our plans for the morrow. What they were the reader will learn in the next chapter.

CHAPTER IX.

A MORNING CALL IN SOUTH AFRICA—LADIES AT HOME—HOW MISS
BOLAND KILLED A LION.

It was decided that we would go in pursuit of a herd of buffaloes which was reported to be in the locality where I met our amazonian rivals in the hunting-field. It is hardly necessary to say that the buffaloes were not the only attraction that drew us in that direction.

We were off in good season after breakfast, and accompanied by the usual party of followers. We went on horse-back, and—for the benefit of the buffaloes, of course—we had our clothing carefully dusted and our hair arranged as much after the style of London or New York as is possible for a hunter in South African wilds. It may not make any difference to a buffalo how the person who kills him is habited and groomed, and up to this time we had given very little thought to the subject; now our views were materially changed, and one of my friends suggested that it was a pity we had not brought our dress suits along.

Our attendants were off a good half-hour ahead of us. We mounted our horses and followed the same general course that we had taken on our last buffalo and eland hunt. When we reached the ground where the buffaloes were said to be, Harry and Jack went in pursuit of them, while I held my course farther to the westward, where the Kafirs said the hunting-women were encamped.

The forenoon is not fashionable calling-time in London or New York, but people are not so particular in South Africa. If one does not make it too early a forenoon call is just as proper here as an afternoon one. Of course if it is not convenient to see the caller when he arrives he can be put off with the polite fiction, "Not at home," just as easily in one part of the world as in another.

I did not have any card to send in, and when I came in sight of the camp I sent forward my after-rider to announce that Mr. Manson was coming. The after-rider went in at a gallop, thus drawing general attention upon himself and evoking a great deal of noise from several dogs that belonged to the outfit. It was certainly enough to rouse the camp and make everybody in it aware that a visitor was approaching.

When I rode up to the kraal the after-rider informed me that the ladies were at home and would see me presently. I dismounted and looked about the kraal while waiting. The camp seemed very well arranged, and I was obliged to admit to myself that the appearance of things about it was much more orderly than that of our own. The kraal was constructed of palisades and large thorn-bushes, the whole forming a fence about ten feet high, and with an outwork of thorn-bushes sufficient to deter the approach of the most enterprising lion or other African beast.

One end of the kraal was fenced off and contained the wagons and tents; the rest of the space was assigned to the cattle when they were driven in at night, and also to the huts of the natives who formed a part of the expedition. The entrance-way was sufficiently large to admit of free ingress and egress during the daytime; at night it was securely closed, so that coming in or going out was a matter of no small moment. Before passage could be obtained the mass of material blocking the entrance had to be removed, and consequently it was necessary for every one to be inside the kraal when the gate was closed for the night.

An intelligent Dutch Boer joined me soon after I dismounted, and entered into conversation. He was the foreman or manager of the expedition, and confidentially told me that he had been up-country a good many times, but never before with women. He said their trip had been very pleasant thus far and the ladies seemed to be enjoying themselves. "They haven't killed a great deal of game," said he, "but much more than I expected they would. Women don't go hunting in this part of the world," he remarked, "except for antelope and some other small things; but I've heard they do so sometimes in other countries."

I made an evasive reply to this remark, which seemed to be put in the form of an inquiry. While not saying so, I left him to infer that it was the most ordinary thing in the world for women to go on hunting-expeditions in the country I came from, and the size of the game made no difference to the hunters.

Then he told me of some of the difficulties of their march thus far, and he dwelt on the fact that they had repeatedly been short of fresh provisions. He did not say for what reason, but I readily guessed that he meant because his fair employers were not as diligent or skilful in obtaining game as male hunters usually are. In an African expedition the hunters are expected to keep a supply of food on hand by the active use of their weapons, and with the various attendants attached to the caravan a good deal of shooting is required.

Fifteen or twenty minutes after my arrival a servant came to ask me to step into the tent, or rather into one of the tents. I followed him and was ushered into a very comfortable dwelling of canvas, which evidently served as dining-room, parlor, reception-room, library, and the like.

Mrs. Roberts was the only occupant of the place, and she greeted me cordially. A circular table was in the middle of the tent, cut in halves, so that it could be placed against the center-pole. Four iron camp-chairs afforded seating-facilities, and some boxes and trunks around the outer edge of the tent would accommodate others in case of a rush of visitors. The floor was spread with skins and rugs, and it was elevated somewhat above the ground outside, in order to keep off dampness as much as possible. Before entering the tent I observed that a ditch had been dug around it and a drain led off to one side—a very wise precaution in South Africa, especially in the season when rains are not infrequent.

The hostess said that Miss Boland would join us in a few minutes. "We were intending," said she, "to go on a hunt to-day, but were out yesterday, and when breakfast was served we concluded to put off our excursion until afternoon. I am very glad we did so, as it has given us the pleasure of a call from you."

I bowed my acknowledgments and assured her that my pleasure at their abandonment of their morning excursion was quite as great as their own. I added that I hoped they had excellent luck the day before.

"We were not very fortunate yesterday," she replied. "We went out into the open country in pursuit of elands, koodoo, or anything else we could find there. I am frank to say that I bagged nothing, while Miss Boland was fortunate enough to bring down an eland and a hartbeest. She had a sharp ride for the eland, and stalked the hartbeest. The ground was very favorable for stalking, and she approached him with comparative ease. I tried a little stalking at the same time, but the animals took fright and ran away before I could get within range. I told you I was not much of a hunter and that the honors of our expedition belonged to Miss Boland. Here she comes."

As Miss Boland entered the tent I rose and was cordially greeted. The manners of the two ladies suggested that they certainly had not taken offense at my treatment of them at our first meeting in the forest. They looked far less like hunters than at the time I first saw them, as their hunting-costumes had been replaced by the morning wrapper of civilized femininity. I took a sly glance in search of the powder and other facial adornments which also belong to civilized life, but could not discover traces of anything of the kind. Their faces were a ruddy brown, and evidently the women had no fears that the climate of South Africa would spoil their complexions; in fact, they were allowing the complexions to take care of themselves, while enjoying the pleasures of a hunter's life.

We had a general conversation on hunting and other topics, which it is unnecessary to repeat. In fact, I would find it impossible to write a verbatim report of what was said during my visit. I was impressed with the enthusiasm which these women showed for their semi-wild life, and also with the care they had taken to provide themselves with as many of the comforts of civilization as it was possible to bring along. They had a chestful of books, most of them relating to the country they were in or the sports which attracted them, and they had not forgotten to bring along a quantity of novels and miscellaneous matter, such as one does not often find in the outfit of an African hunter. They offered me several works of fiction which they were through with, both having read them. I accepted their offer, as we were short of literature in our camp, and the books were quickly made into a parcel and handed over to my after-rider.

I remained there perhaps half an hour. As I rose to go they urged me to remain longer, just as is always the case in fashionable society, no matter how much the host may wish for the visitor's departure. I explained that my companions were hunting buffaloes in the locality where I had the pleasure of meeting the two ladies, and that they expected me to join them. This led to my explaining who my companions were and also to a further explanation as to myself.

"You already know," I said, "that my name is Frank Manson. I am from New York, and take pride in saying that my father is one of the prominent citizens of that metropolis of the western world. After my graduation from college I was taken, into my father's law-office and expected in due course of time to become his partner and successor. My health became impaired and it was decided that I should take a year or two of active outdoor life. I had read the books of Gordon Cumming, Baldwin, and other South African hunters, and it did not take me long to make up my mind to visit this part of the world and take my active outdoor life in pursuit of South African game.

"When I reached the Cape I made the acquaintance of two young men who had come, the one from London and the other from Glasgow, with the same objects in view as myself. Jack Delafield is the son of a wealthy manufacturer in Scotland, and Harry Lawrence is the son of a London merchant, also reputed wealthy. They are bright, interesting fellows, and it did not take us long to form a partnership in a hunting-enterprise. They are my two companions, and we have had a royal good time together."

Mrs. Roberts said that she would certainly be pleased to meet the gentlemen, and Miss Boland acquiesced in the suggestion. I observed that Mrs. Roberts seemed to be in the position of chaperon to the younger woman; the initiative in everything was taken by the former, but whether this was accidental or otherwise I was unable to say at that time.

"Would it please you," I asked, "to visit our camp, on any day and hour that you choose, where you can see our hunting-outfit and meet my two companions?"

The ladies looked from one to the other, and I decorously turned my attention to the opposite side of the tent, so that they could express approval or disapproval to each other without coming under my eye. I fastened my gaze on a gun-case, and not only my gaze, but my hands, whereupon Miss Boland remarked:

"That's my favorite gun—a Winchester. I have two or three other kinds, but that's the one I prefer above all others and carry more frequently than any other." Then she stepped forward, deftly opened the case, and took out the weapon.

It was, as she said, a Winchester, and one of the best of its kind. I remarked that I was familiar with the gun, as we had four of that pattern in our outfit. Of course this led to a brief dissertation on the merits of the Winchester, in which Miss Boland grew quite enthusiastic over the rapid firing qualities of the weapon.

"I never appreciated the Winchester so much," said she, "as when I killed my first lion with it. He was a grand old brute, one of the largest of his race. He had been prowling around the camp at night, and once, when the moon was bright, I went out determined to shoot him. We had put a bait out for him just on the edge of a ridge, so that when the lion came he was between me and the sky. I was about fifty yards away from him, with this rifle. The first shot did not bring him, but he gave a terrific roar. Instantly I fired a second shot, then a third, and then a fourth. The lion fell, and there was no more disturbance that night. I could not get the men to go out and see the result of my shot, as they were afraid the mate of the animal might be about and would seek revenge. The next morning they were bold enough and went; there was my lion as dead as a door-nail, and every bullet had told."

CHAPTER X.

AN INVITATION ACCEPTED—ANOTHER BUFFALO—PREPARING
LUNCHEON IN STYLE.

Then from Winchesters the talk ran to other rifles. I suspected that this diversion was in order to avoid an answer to my invitation, and at the first convenient pause in the rifle-talk I again started to leave the tent. Thereupon Mrs. Roberts stopped me and said:

"It will give us pleasure to accept your invitation, and if the weather justifies we will call at your camp the day after to-morrow."

"Thank you very much," I answered; "it will give us great pleasure, and if the facilities of the country permitted you might expect a band of music to welcome your arrival. But as an orchestra is not to be had we must content ourselves with the resources of the country. May I ask at about what time we may look for you?"

"Oh, somewhere in the neighborhood of noon, I suppose," she replied.

"Will you do us the honor to take luncheon with us during your call!" I asked.

"With pleasure," the lady answered; "and we shall look for ice-cream, oysters, and all the delicacies of London and New York combined."

"Certainly," I replied; "all we have to do is to send to Delmonico's and Gatty's, and that we can do with the utmost ease."

This retort evoked a laugh from the twain, and under its cover I said good-day and retired.

I rode as quickly as I could to the place where my friends were engaged in hunting the buffaloes, drawing up at the tree under which we had left our horses the day before. Their horses were at the tree in the care of the Kafirs who accompanied them. I found that Harry and Jack had gone into the forest on foot and several shots had already been fired. Not wishing to run the risk of meeting an infuriated bull which one of them had wounded, and also unwilling to risk being shot while approaching the hunters, I concluded to remain outside and wait for developments.

I did not have long to wait—not more than fifteen or twenty minutes; a huge bull came rushing out of the woods and made across the open country, passing quite near the tree under which we were resting. He was followed by three or four other members of his herd, and this gave me an excellent opportunity for a buffalo-hunt on horseback.

Filling my belt with cartridges and taking my trusty Remington, I swung into the saddle and went after the bull that was leading the group. I tried to make out whether he was wounded or not, as I preferred to bring down game of my own and not an animal that, by the rules of South Africa, would belong to somebody else. There was no trace of blood on the spoor of the buffalo, and so I concluded that he had only been alarmed at the sound of the firing and possibly by a shot aimed at him which went wide of its mark.

I had no difficulty in getting alongside the brute. Evidently he had never been chased on horseback and looked upon man and horse as some sort of wild animal, possibly a modification of the giraffe, or perhaps a new kind of quagga or eland. In fact, he might easily mistake the horse for a quagga, as there is a strong resemblance between the two animals, and the man might be taken for an unusually large hump on the creature's back. At all events, he manifested no alarm whatever at my riding up alongside, but he did manifest a great deal of surprise when I sent a bullet into his side at short range. His surprise was momentary; he paused, gave a look at me, and then charged savagely in my direction.

I was ready for him and got out of his way. My horse evinced a good deal of terror as the brute rushed upon him, and made active use of his legs. The charge did not last long, and the buffalo resumed his course over the open country.

I ranged up alongside and gave it to him again, and then I saw the advantage that a Winchester would have been under the circumstances. I could have given him two or three shots before he had a chance to turn and charge, and two or three shots might have settled him where one did not.

He charged again, but this time his assault was feeble, his steps grew slower and slower; he paused, came to a dead stand, and then dropped to the ground! Another shot at the vulnerable point in his head finished him completely, and then I rode on in pursuit of the others.

I singled out a cow and hunted her down in the same way. By the time I finished her the others had disappeared in a great clump of hack-thorn bushes, where I did not care to follow. Hunting in hack-thorn bushes is terrible work on one's clothing, not to mention his skin. For making the visit already mentioned I had donned the best of my South African equipments, and as my call was to be returned two days later I thought it just as well to keep away from the hack-thorns.

I retraced my steps in the direction of the tree where I had left the horses of my friends. There I found that Harry and Jack had driven out another bunch of buffaloes, which made off in an easterly direction; they mounted their horses and went in pursuit of the game, and had been out of sight for some time, trending away to the eastward. It was no use for me to follow, as a stern chase would be a long chase and completely use up my horse, not to speak of his rider. So I gave the Kafirs the direction for finding the two buffaloes I had slaughtered, and then, after giving my horse a breathing-spell of a quarter of an hour or so, jumped into the saddle and jogged slowly in the direction of camp.

"Glory enough for one day," I remarked to myself—"a call upon those two charming women, and two buffaloes added to my credit. I don't know that I care for any more game just at present."

While I was meditating upon the events of the morning and also considering our menu for lunch, suddenly, on passing a ridge, I sighted a herd of elands.

I brought my horse to a stop instantly, and with my head just above the ridge surveyed the herd, which luckily had not seen me. By going back a little and then moving along parallel to the ridge I could come upon the herd almost within shooting-distance, and that is exactly what I did. The herd was feeding in a valley between two ridges, and before they were fairly aware of it I was upon them. I singled out the finest of the animals, which was also one of the nearest, and in less than fifteen minutes from the time I first sighted the herd the creature was lying dead at my feet. Had I followed them up it is quite likely I might have bagged another, but I repeated to myself my previous assertion—"Glory enough for one day." After marking the spot where the eland lay by tying a piece of rag (torn from my shirt) to the nearest thorn-bush, I again resumed my journey toward camp, and this time I reached it.

It was two or three hours after I got to camp before my friends returned. They had had good luck, both on foot and on horseback, Harry having killed three buffaloes and Jack two. They had a run after elands. I could not tell from their description whether it was the herd from which I had made a selection or not, but they were not as fortunate as I, not getting near enough for a shot. Altogether we made a very good day's sport, and when our closing meal of the day was ready we partook of it with a hearty relish. The old adage says that hunger is the best sauce, and we were hungry enough to have eaten a slice out of a lion.

And this reminds me that a lion is not such bad eating after all. One naturally has a prejudice against it, as the lion belongs to the feline race, and outside of China cats are not popular as food-material. I tried lion one day, principally for the reason that there was nothing else to eat and I had just shot one of the so-called "kings of beasts." It tasted somewhat like veal, but was tougher, and also had a cattish flavor to it. I had some steaks cut from the lion and broiled over the coals, and the next morning had a stew made from the lion's flesh. The conclusion I reached was that stewed lion is better than broiled lion, as the stewing rids the flesh of the feline bouquet. If any reader of this story should have occasion to dine upon the flesh of this animal I recommend that he have it stewed or boiled, and well boiled too.

Harry and Jack were delighted when I told them of the visit that was promised to us. They immediately began making plans for the luncheon, and to put the camp in order for our fair callers. Harry ran over the inventory of his clothes and finally decided that he would don his best hunting-suit, inasmuch as he had no other except his every-day one, which was very much dilapidated. The best one was not a great deal better than the worst. As for white shirts and collars, there was nothing of the kind in our outfit; neither was there a tall hat among the three of us.

Jack's outfit and mine were very much the same as Harry's, so that there was nothing to boast of. We had our best suits carefully and severely dusted, and fished out some checked hunting-shirts which had not yet been worn.

"We're ahead of any other African hunters, I believe," said Jack, as the garments were unfolded. "I don't believe there's one in fifty that can show a clean shirt after he's been out a month from civilization."

"And a good many of them," said Harry, "can't show any shirt at all, when you come to that. We're mighty lucky to have such a splendid wardrobe. Wouldn't be a bad idea to start a clothing-store, even with our limited stock."

The question of dress being settled, there arose the momentous one of the menu for luncheon. Jack said that we would paralyze them on that, and he would apply the stroke of paralysis.

This he said with a shake of the head which intimated that he knew what he was talking about. I could not make out what he was driving at, and waited patiently for the result.

We were up early the next morning, and all three set about preparations for the lunch of the next day. We cleaned out the tent and made it as presentable as possible; and by the time we were through with our work we all admitted that it had never yet been as orderly as it was then. We had three iron camp-stools and sundry chests and boxes, and we had a table, circular in form, around the center-pole. The table perplexed us, as it would seat three comfortably and four fairly well, but five around that table made altogether too close sitting.

"What's the matter," said Jack, "with ranging our two wagons side by side, and stretching the canvas cover from one wagon to the other, so as to form a big awning? Then, by means of chests and boxes, we can rig up a table under this awning, and have much more room than in the tent. We can use the tent as a reception-room, and when luncheon is ready we'll adjourn to the dining-saloon."