CHAPTER XXXIX.
A WILD RIDE ON QUAGGA-BACK.
Hendrik was congratulating himself on his success. He anticipated somepleasure in the surprise he was about to create at camp, when he shouldmarch in with the eland--for he had no doubt that he would succeed indoing so.
Indeed, there appeared no reason to doubt it. The bull had alreadyentered the gorge, and was moving down it, while Hendrik and his quaggawere hurrying forward to follow.
The hunter had arrived within a few yards of the top, when a loudtrampling noise sounded in his ears, as if a band of heavy-footedanimals were coming up the gorge.
He spurred his quagga forward, in order to reach the edge, and get aview down the ravine. Before he was able to do so, he was surprised tosee the eland gallop up again, and try to pass him upon the plain. Ithad evidently received fresh alarm, from something in the gorge; andpreferred facing its old enemy to encountering the new.
Hendrik did not give his attention to the eland. He could ride it downat any time. He was more anxious first to know what had given it thestart backward; so he continued to press forward to the head of theravine.
He might have thought of lions, and acted with greater prudence; but thetrampling of hoofs which still echoed up the pass told him that lionswere not the cause of the eland's alarm.
He at length reached a point where he could see down the declivity. Hehad not far to look--for already the animals that were making the noisewere close up to him; and he perceived they were nothing more than atroop of quaggas.
He was not over-pleased at this interruption to his drive; and the lessdid he like it, that the intruders were quaggas--ill-conditioned brutesthat they were! Had they been game animals, he would have shot one; butthe only motive that would have induced him to shoot one of the quaggaswould have been a feeling of anger--for, at that moment, he was reallyangry at them.
Without knowing it, poor brutes! they had likely given him cause for agood deal of trouble: for it would cost him a good deal, before he couldhead the eland again, and get it back into the pass. No wonder, then, hewas vexed a little.
But his vexation was not so grievous as to cause him to fire upon theapproaching herd; and, turning aside, he rode after the eland.
He had hardly left the spot, when the quaggas came out of the pass,following each other to the number of forty or fifty. Each, as he sawthe mounted hunter, started with affright, and bolted off, until thewhole drove stretched out in a long line over the plain, snorting anduttering their loud "coua-a-g" as they ran.
Hendrik would hardly have regarded this movement under ordinarycircumstances. He had often seen herds of quaggas, and was in no waycurious about them. But his attention was drawn to this herd, from hisnoticing, as they passed him, that four of them had their tails dockedshort; and from this circumstance, he recognised them as the four thathad been caught in the pit-trap and afterwards set free. Swartboy, forsome purpose of his own, had cut off the hair before letting them go.
Hendrik had no doubt it was they, and that the herd was the same thatused to frequent the vley, but that on account of the ill-treatment theyhad met with, had never since shown themselves in the neighbourhood.
Now these circumstances coming into Hendrik's mind at the moment, ledhim to regard the quaggas with a certain feeling of curiosity. Thesudden fright which the animals took on seeing him, and the comicappearance of the four with the stumped tails, rather inclined Hendriktowards merriment, and he laughed as he galloped along.
As the quaggas went off in the same direction which the eland had taken,of course Hendrik's road and theirs lay so far together; and on gallopedhe at their heels. He was curious to try the point--much disputed inregard to horses--how far a mounted quagga would be able to cope with anunmounted one. He was curious moreover, to find out whether his ownquagga was quite equal to any of its old companions. So on swept thechase, the eland leading, the quaggas after, and Hendrik bringing up therear.
Hendrik had no need to ply the spur. His gallant steed flew like thewind. He seemed to feel that his character was staked upon the race. Hegained upon the drove at every spring.
The heavy-going eland was soon overtaken, and as it trotted to one side,was passed. It halted, but the quaggas kept on.
Not only the drove kept on, but Hendrik's quagga following close attheir heels; and in less than five minutes they had left the eland afull mile in their rear, and were still scouring onward over the wideplain.
What was Hendrik about? Was he going to forsake the eland, and let itescape? Had he grown so interested in the race? Was he jealous about hisquagga's speed, and determined it should beat all the others?
So it would have appeared to any one witnessing the race from adistance. But one who could have had a nearer view of it, would havegiven a different explanation of Hendrik's conduct.
The fact was, that as soon as the eland halted, Hendrik intended to haltalso; and for that purpose pulled strongly upon his bridle. But, to hisastonishment, he found that his quagga did not share his intention.Instead of obeying the bit, the animal caught the steel in his teeth,and laying his ears back, galloped straight on!
Hendrik then endeavoured to turn the quagga to one side, and for thispurpose wrenched his right rein; but with such fierceness, that the oldbit-ring gave way--the bit slipped through the animal's jaws--thehead-stall came off with the jerk--and the quagga was completelyunbridled!
Of course the animal was now free to go just as he liked; and it wasplain that he liked to go with his old comrades. His old comrades hewell knew them to be, as his snorting and occasional neigh ofrecognition testified.
At first Hendrik was disposed to look upon the breaking of his bit asonly a slight misfortune. For a boy he was one of the best riders inSouth Africa, and needed no rein to steady him. He could keep his seatwithout one. The quagga would soon stop, and he could then repair thebit, and re-adjust the bridle which he still held in his hands. Suchwere his reflections at first.
But their spirit began to alter, when he found that the quagga, insteadof lessening his pace, kept on as hard as ever, and the herd still ranwildly before him without showing the slightest signs of coming to ahalt.
In fact, the quaggas were running through fear. They saw the mountedhunter behind them in hot pursuit; and although their old comrade knewwho they were, how were they to tell what he was, with such a tall hunchupon his back? No quagga he, but some terrible monster, they imagined,thirsting for their lives, and eager to devour one and all of them!
No wonder they showed their heels in the best style they knew how; andso well did they show them, that Hendrik's quagga--notwithstanding hiskeen desire to get forward among them, and explain away the awkwardbusiness upon his back--was not able to come an inch closer.
He did not lose ground, however. His eagerness to regain hisold associates--to partake once more of their wild freedom--forhe was desperately tired of civilised society, and sick ofelephant-hunting--all these ideas crowded into his mind at the moment,and nerved him to the utmost exertion. Could he only get up into thebody of the crowd--for the herd now ran in a crowd--a few whimpers wouldsuffice to explain--they would come to a halt at once,--they wouldgather around him, and assist both with hoofs and teeth to get "shed" ofthe ugly two-legged thing that clung so tightly to his dorsal vertebrae.
It was "no go," however. Although he was so close to their heels, thatthey flung dust in his face, and small pebbles in the face of his rider,to the no slight inconvenience of the latter; although he "whighered"whenever he could spare breath, and uttered his "couag,--couag!" inreality calling them by name, it was "no go." They would not stay. Theywould not hear.
And what did Hendrik during all this time? Nothing--he could do nothing.He could not stay the impetuous flight of his steed. He dared notdismount. He would have been hurled among sharp rocks, had he attemptedsuch a thing. His neck would have been broken. He could donothing--nothing but keep his seat.
What thought he? At first, not much. At first he regarded t
he adventurelightly. When he was about completing his third mile, he began to deemit more serious; and as he entered upon the fifth, he became convincedthat he was neither more nor less than in a very awkward scrape.
But the fifth mile was left behind, and then a sixth, and a seventh; andstill the quaggas galloped wildly on--the drove actuated by the fear oflosing their liberty, and their old comrade by the desire of regaininghis.
Hendrik now felt real uneasiness. Where were they going? Where was thebrute carrying him? Perhaps off to the desert, where he might be lostand perish of hunger or thirst! Already he was many miles from thecliffs, and he could no longer tell their direction. Even had he haltedthen and there, he could not tell which way to turn himself. He would belost!
He grew more than anxious. He became frightened in earnest.
What was he to do? Leap down, and risk his neck in the fall? He wouldlose his quagga and his saddle as well--he regarded the eland as alreadylost--he would have to walk back to camp, and get laughed at on hisreturn.
No matter for all that; his life was in danger if he kept on. Thequaggas might gallop twenty,--aye, fifty miles before halting. Theyshowed no symptoms of being blown--no signs of giving out. He must flinghimself to the ground, and let quagga and saddle go.
He had formed this resolution, and was actually about to put it inpractice. He was just considering how he might best escape an uglyfall--looking for a soft spot--when, all at once, a grand idea rushedinto his mind.
HENDRICK BLINDING THE QUAGGA.]
He remembered that in taming this same quagga and breaking him to thesaddle, he had been vastly aided by a very simple contrivance--that wasa "blind." The blind was nothing more than a piece of soft leather tiedover the animal's eyes; but so complete had been its effect, that it hadtransformed the quagga at once from a kicking screaming creature into adocile animal.
Hendrik now thought of the blind.
True, he had none. Was there nothing about him that would serve as one?His handkerchief? No, it would be too thin. Hurrah! His jacket would do!
His rifle was in the way. It must be got rid of. It must be dropped tothe ground. He could return for it.
It was let down as gently as possible, and soon left far behind.
In a twinkling Hendrik stripped off his jacket. How was it to bearranged so as to blind the quagga? It would not do to drop it.
A moment's consideration served the ready boy to mature his plan. Aftera moment he bent down, passed a sleeve upon each side under the quagga'sthroat, and then knotted them together. The jacket thus rested over theanimal's mane, with the collar near its withers, and the peak or skirtupon the small of its neck.
Hendrik next leaned as far forward as he could, and with his extendedarms pushed the jacket up the animal's neck, until the skirt passed overits ears, and fell down it front of its face.
It was with some difficulty that the rider, bent down as he was, couldretain his seat; for as soon as the thick flap of cloth came down overthe eyes of the quagga, the latter halted as if he had been shot dead inhis tracks. He did not fall, however, but only stood still, quiveringwith terror. His gallop was at an end!
Hendrik leaped to the ground. He was no longer afraid that the quagga,blinded as he now was, would make any attempt to get off; nor did he.
In a few minutes the broken bit-ring was replaced by a strong rheim ofraw leather; the bit inserted between the quagga's teeth, the head-stallsafely buckled, and Hendrik once more in the saddle, with his jacketupon his back.
The quagga felt that he was conquered. His old associates were no longerin sight to tempt him from his allegiance; and with theseconsiderations, aided by a slight dose of bit and spur, he turned hishead, and moved sullenly upon the back track.
Hendrik knew nothing about the route he should take. He followed backthe spoor of the quaggas to the place where he had dropped his gun,which after riding a mile or two he recovered.
As there was no sun in the sky, nor other object to guide him, hethought he could not do better than trace back the spoor; and althoughit led him by many a devious route, and he saw nothing more of hiseland, before night he reached the pass in the cliff, and was soon aftersitting under the shadow of the nwana-tree, regaling a most interestedaudience with the narrative of his day's adventures.