CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.
HENDRIK'S HARD GALLOP.
On swept the blesboks over the level sward and on galloped Hendrik afterthem--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 "acut" upon the game. The blesboks made not the slightest double--swervednot a point from their course, but ran in a straight line, dead in thewind's eye. No advantage, therefore, was given by the pursued, or couldbe taken by the pursuers. It was a simple question of speed betweenhorse, dogs, and game.
The dogs gave up first. They broke down one after another, until onlyHendrik's favourite hound kept near. Another mile's running, and he toowas used up, and fell to the rear; and now Hendrik galloped alone.
For nearly ten miles he galloped, until the sweat streamed from hishorse's flanks, and the froth from his lips, and still the blesboksscoured on before him at too great a distance to be reached by hisrifle. On a fresh horse he could easily have overtaken them now, forthey 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 withcaution. The burrows of the ant-eater lay in his path, and once ortwice, as he was closing upon the game with good prospect of gettingnear, his horse had stumbled, and lost ground again. This gave theantelopes a decided advantage, as with light hoof they skimmed overthese impediments without fear.
And still Hendrik was reluctant to pull up. He thought of the emptyboasting he had made. He thought of the scornful laugh that would greethim on his return. He thought of Groot Willem!
If he could only take back one hide--one pair of horns--all would bewell. The laugh would be his. With such thoughts he had been urgedforward, in this long and desperate ride.
He began to despair of success. The blesboks seemed to run lightly asever, while his horse sprang heavily under him. The noble brute mustsoon give up.
Hendrik at length felt for him, and would have drawn bridle; but whilehalf-resolved to do so, he noticed a range of mountains directly infront of him. They appeared to extend across the plain transversely tohis course, or rather two chains met in a sort of angle, quite closingup the plain in that direction. Towards this angle the blesboks weredirecting their course!
Did they propose taking to the mountain? was the question put by Hendrikto himself. If so, he might find an advantage there. They might cometo a stop, and under cover of the rocks and bushes that grew upon themountain-side, he might be able yet to stalk them.
As Hendrik reflected thus, his eyes wandered along the base of bothranges 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 aprecipitous cliff, with no apparent pass leading up! He was now closeenough to see the cliff. Not a break appeared along its whole line!
Hendrik was gratified with this discovery. He was driving the game intoan angle, a very _trap_. They would be compelled to turn upon him, andout of such a thick mass, he could not fail to knock over one. One wasall he wanted.
His hopes returned, inspiring him with new vigour; and, uttering a wordof 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 thanhalf that distance from the bucks that still continued to run straighttoward the angle of the cliffs. He was now quite sure of a shot. Inless than a minute, the herd would be compelled either to stop, or turnback, and meet him in the teeth.
It was time to get his rifle in readiness; and as he intended to fireinto the thick mass, he took several small bullets from his pouch, andhastily dropped them into the barrel. He then looked to hispercussion-cap, to make sure that all was right. It was so. The copperwas properly adjusted on the nipple.
He cocked his gun, and once more looked forward to the game. _Not anantelope was in sight_!
Where were they? Had they sprung up the mountain? Impossible! Theprecipice could not be scaled? Impossible! Even had they done so, theywould still have been seen upon the mountain face. They were not insight, not one of them! The hunter reined up, his gun dropped back tothe withers of his horse, his jaws fell, and for some moments he satwith parted lips, and eyes glaring in wonderment.
Had he been of a superstitious nature, he might have been troubled withsome painful feelings at that moment. But he was not superstitious.Although for a moment or two he could not feel otherwise than astonishedat it, he knew there was some natural cause for the "sudden andmysterious disappearance" of the bucks.
He did not pause long in doubt, but proceeded at once to the properquarter for an explanation. The tracks of the herd guided him to that,and after riding three hundred yards further, the mystery was explainedto 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 ashort distance the converging cliffs appeared to impinge upon eachother, there was an opening between them--a narrow pass that like anisthmus connected the plain over which the chase had gone, with anotherand very similar one that stretched away on the other side of themountains. The blesboks must have known it well enough, else they wouldnot have run so direct for the false angle in the cliffs. Hendriktrotted up the pass to convince himself that it was no _cul-de-sac_.After going a few hundred yards, the isthmus widened again, and he sawto his chagrin the violet backs of the bucks far off upon the plain thatstretched beyond.
Overcome with disappointment and chagrin, he flung himself from hissaddle, and staggering a few paces, sat down upon a boulder of rock. Hedid not even stop to fasten his horse, but, dropping the bridle over hisneck, left the froth-covered and panting steed to himself.