CHAPTER SIXTEEN.
GROOT WILLEM GETS A TUMBLE.
The chase was now one of exceeding interest, and had become a simpletrial of speed between horses, dogs, and antelope. The buck had kept onin a direct line, when the others broke away from him. He had beenforemost at the time, and had no need to turn out of his course.Besides he knew where he was running to. Terror had driven the othersout of their senses, and they had fled without design, while the oldbuck, not losing his "presence of mind," kept on for the water.
A dark belt seen ahead was a forest fringing some stream or river. Thatwas the point he was making for, but a wide plain must be crossed beforehe could wet his hoof in any water. Over this plain now swept thechase.
Oddly enough, the two dogs that had chosen the buck for their game wererival dogs--that is, each hunter was owner of one of them, and regardedhim as a favourite; and all three kinds, dogs, horses, and riders,seemed to be on their mettle, and were doing their very best.
Do not fancy there was any ill-feeling between Groot Willem and Hendrik.Nothing of the sort. Each loved his horse and his dog, and wished themto excel--each had his hunter reputation at stake in the result--andeach had resolved upon carrying the head and horns of that blue-buck intriumph to the camp!
Notwithstanding all this, there was no "bad blood" between the boys.Nothing of the sort.
Beautifully the buck ran. Lightly he leaped over the turf, his limbs ateach spring stretching to an almost horizontal line, with head high inair and horns curving backward to his flanks. Well and beautifully heran!
Sometimes he gained on his pursuers, as the nature of the groundfavoured his hoofs; but again the strong buck-dogs howled upon hisheels, and the hunters galloped but a hundred yards behind him. Theblue of his back soon changed to a deeper tint, as the sweat pouredthrough his sable skin, and the froth in large flakes clouted his neckand shoulders. His red tongue hung dripping from his jaws, and thehunters might have heard his hard breathing but for the panting of theirown steeds.
Five miles did they go in that wild gallop--five miles without drawingrein or changing pace!
The woods were near--perhaps the water! The buck would gain them if nothard pressed--there might be a deep reach of some large river--theblauw-bok can swim like a duck--he would plunge in--they could notfollow--they would lose him!
With such fears the hunters spurred their horses for a final burst.Their speed had proved nearly equal. Now was the time to try their"bottom."
Both shot forward at the fresh touch of the steel; but at the second orthird spring the ground under the "Great Camel" gave way, and the hugehorse with his heavy rider rolled headlong to the earth!
He had broken through the burrow of the _aard-wolf_!
Hendrik, who had shot a little ahead, heard the confused noise behind,and, looking over his shoulder, saw Groot Willem and the "Camel"struggling together over the turf. A more attractive object, however,was in front of him--the panting buck--and without making halt, orstaying to inquire whether his fellow-hunter was hurt--a pardonableneglect among sportsmen--he pressed his wearied horse still forward andonward.
In five minutes after, the buck stood to bay by the edge of the timber,and the dogs rushed up and sprang at him. It was a fatal spring for oneof them--the favourite of Groot Willem. The luck was against him, as ithad gone against his master. A single "gowl" came from his throat, ashe was flung back off the sharp horns of the antelope. It was the lastnote he ever uttered, for in a moment more he had kicked his last kick,and lay lifeless upon the plain!
And very likely Hendrik's favourite would have shared the same fate; buthis master at this moment riding near, caused the blue-buck a freshalarm, and he broke bay, and dashed into the bushes followed by the dog.
Hendrik now lost sight of the chase, though he could hear the breakingbranches, as the strong antelope made his way through the thicket, andthe baying of the dog still told him the direction in which the game wasgoing.
Putting his horse to a more moderate pace, he followed through the_bosch_, as well as he could. He expected every moment to hear thehound bark, the signal that the buck had again stood to bay, but he wasdoomed to disappointment. No such sound reached his ears.
He began to think that the buck was lost, and that, after all thechances in his favour, he would return to camp with no better story totell than his rival. He was becoming exceedingly chagrined with theturn things had taken, when, to his further chagrin, he heard a loudplunge, as of some heavy object falling into deep water. He knew it wasthe buck. Another plunge!--that was the dog.
There was a river ahead--the antelope had taken to it, and would nowescape to a certainty. The water seemed near--there was an open tractthat led in that direction. Perhaps he might be in time. Perhaps hemight get to the bank before the buck could reach the opposite shore. Abullet from his rifle might yet secure the game.
Without hesitating a moment he again spurred his horse, and gallopeddown the hill in the direction of the water.
There _was_ a river, and in a few seconds' time Hendrik was on its bank.He had arrived at a place where the water was deep and the currentstill, but the rippling wave on the surface guided him. Two objectswere seen above the surface moving rapidly across. They were the hornsof the buck and the head of the buck-dog!
Hendrik had no time to alight. Before he could steady his horse, theblauw-bok had got out of the water, and was climbing up the oppositebank. There was just time for a hurried shot. The broad back of theantelope offered a fair mark, and the next moment a tuft of the hairnear the spine, was seen to fly up like a spark, while a red streamspouted from the spot. The crack of a rifle explained this phenomenon;and before its echoes had died away, the antelope came tumbling down theslope, and lay motionless by the edge of the water.
The horns were Hendrik's!