The Vee-Boers: A Tale of Adventure in Southern Africa

  CHAPTER NINE.

  BELATED ON THE VELDT.

  For that day Piet Van Dorn's hunting was at at an end, but with a finalefar from satisfactory to him. True, he had succeeded in killing thebuffalo, and would not have to return to camp trophyless. But how abouthis horse? The latter might be there before him--in all likelihood wasthere already--if not lost on the veldt. If lost, it would be no slightmisfortune; his mount being of the best ever ridden by a Vee-Boer, andone that could not well be replaced. Still he had not yet come tocontemplating the matter in so serious a light; trusting to the animal'sinstinct to guide it back to its companions. But even this would havesinister consequences. That anything could have parted him and his petsteed, above all a tumble, and its becoming known to the fair_fraulein_, his ladye love, was aught but pleasant to contemplate. Andthe horse returning riderless would naturally create alarm in the camp,where, besides a sweetheart, he had an affectionate mother and sisterswho would be in an agony of apprehension about him, he knew.

  Furthermore, the thought of having to trudge it back afoot, wounded ashe was--in fact a good deal disabled--was of itself sufficientlydisagreeable. But just on this account was it necessary for him tostart off at once.

  The sun was now little more than the breadth of its own disc above thehorizon; and, if night caught him upon the veldt, he might have to stayin it till morning, almost certainly would.

  Thus reflecting, he made no longer delay than the occasion called for.Bleeding wounds were to be bound up; ugly scratches got in the attemptat climbing the doorn-boom, and a thorn or two that still stuck in hisflesh had to be extracted. Then there was the reloading of his gun,which it was not prudent to have empty in such a place. Finally he cutoff the buffalo's tail, to be taken along, less by way of trophy, thanas evidence that, despite so many other mischances, he had not failed asa hunter. He would have preferred taking the horns, as he had neverbefore seen so grand a pair; besides, it was to them he owed the lifeleft him. But for their getting entangled in the tree, instead of hisnow, in cold blood, cutting off the buffalo's tail, the brute might havebeen standing over his lifeless body, trampling it into a mash. But,notwithstanding the service the horns had done him, and tempting as atrophy, it would take some time to detach them from the head, more thanhe had to spare, and in his disabled state they would be too much of aburden. So, shouldering his gun, with the bull's tail tied to itsmuzzle, he strode away from a spot so replete with incident, and what,but a short while before, seemed mystery incomprehensible.

  Though comprehending it now, his perplexities were not over nor histroubles at an end. Scarce had he commenced moving off when thehitherto unthought of question occurred to him--

  "What direction am I to take?"

  It may seem strange his not thinking of this before; but men in hissituation rarely do. The traveller on African plain or American prairieonly becomes conscious of being lost when he _is_ lost. Just such tardyconsciousness now came to Piet Van Dorn, but with so keen a sense of itas to bring him to an abrupt stop before he had made half-a-dozen steps.

  For a time he stood scanning the horizon around, but saw nothing thereto give him guidance. He had hoped to descry a dark line along it; thetimber skirting the stream by which they had encamped; but nothing ofthis was in sight. Even the great mowana, with several others of itskind he knew to be near it, were below the level of the plain. [Note1]. This added to his uneasiness, telling of the long distance he wouldhave to tramp it, even with direction known. But the last was hispresent trouble, and he bent himself, with all the energies of his mind,to determine it. What assistance could he get from the sun? Nothingelse seemed to promise any, so he turned his gaze upon that. Heremembered its having been before his face while he was pursuing thebuffalo; well remembered this, as it had been in his eyes, and sodazzled them as to interfere with his aim. Indeed, he blamed it, morethan aught else, for his having failed to bring the animal down. Butthe sun had since changed place in the sky; true, not much, still enoughto make it a blind guide, notwithstanding its brightness.

  It would help him in a way, however; and turning his back upon it, hewas about to start off eastward, when lo! tracks on the ground beforehim! Two sorts of hoof-marks there were; one cloven, the other wholeand shod. The presence of neither surprised him, knowing, as he did,what animals had made them--of course the buffalo and his own horse. Itwas where he had fired his third shot, and the chase had come to an endby the bull rounding upon him. But beyond he could see the same tracksin a long line over the veldt, indicating the direction in which he hadapproached the place. There was no need for longer doubt or hesitation,he could not do better than take the trail of the chase backward; andback on it he went.

  Not far, however, before again getting interrupted. Out of some lowscrub, through which it led, came a peal of wild hysterical laughter,that, to ears unacquainted with it, and in such a solitary place, wouldhave been appalling. But Piet Van Dorn knew the sort of creature thatlaughed; was sure of its being the same which had lately saluted him ina similar manner, as if mockingly. Remembering this, recalling also,that to it he was indebted for the loss of his horse, with otherresultant troubles, quick as lightning, he jerked his gun from hisshoulder, and lowered it to the level. Almost at the same instant heperceived the hyena making off through the bushes, as it sent backanother of its unearthly cachinnations--the last it ever uttered. Itdid not even succeed in finishing that, being abruptly silenced by abullet that dropped it dead in its tracks; the loud report of the roerreplacing the animal's voice in prolonged reverberation over the plain.

  With something like a feeling of satisfied vengeance, the young huntersaw the hyena roll over dead. But for it he might still have beenastride his noble steed--almost surely would--with the buffalo's grandhorns carried on the croup behind him. And how different hissituation--how aggravating! But there was no time to dwell on it,however; so, hastily ramming down another cartridge, and without evendeigning to look at the worthless quarry killed, he continued on.

  So long as daylight lasted, there would be no difficulty about histaking up the trail; he could sight it going at a run. And run he did,now and then, despite his crippled condition, so anxious was he to getback to camp, though less on his own account than that of the anxiousones there. Besides, to be out all night on the veldt alone andweakened as he was, were of itself a thing of danger. Not only cowardlyhyenas, but courageous leopards, even lions, might be prowling about andmake prey of him.

  With such incentives to haste, he made it--all that was in his power.But despite all, he saw the sun sink down below the horizon withoutgetting sight of the belt of timber he was looking for. Nor came it inview during the short interval of twilight that succeeded, and throughwhich he had hastened on without halt or pause, till night's darknesswas almost down. Then he made stop, and ascended an ant-hill, with ahalf-despairing hope that from its summit he might descry the wished-forbeacon--perhaps see the lights of the laager fires.

  He saw them not, neither blaze nor spark; and, as night had now drawnits sable mantle around him, he had but the two alternatives--stay wherehe was, or go blindly groping onward. Making choice of the former, hestayed.

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  Note 1. As stated in a former note, the "mowana" in girth and spread ofbranches is perhaps the largest of all known trees, but far from beingthe tallest, in height rarely exceeding a hundred feet.