CHAPTER FIVE.
A TASTE OF SOMETHING TO COME.
There was but little in the way of incident for some time. The dogsseemed to be never weary of hunting here and there, thrusting theirnoses under every rock, their heads into every hole; but they foundnothing till after the midday halt, when a furious barking from thesetter Rough'un took the attention of all, and Mr Rogers and the boyscantered up to a thin cluster of trees, where, on what seemed to be atfirst a broken stump, but which on nearer inspection proved to be a tallragged ant-hill, a vicious-looking snake was curled, swinging its headabout threateningly, and darting out its forked tongue at the dog, whichkept its distance, barking furiously.
"A poisonous fellow--cobra evidently. Now, Dick, bring it down."
"No; let Jack shoot, father," said Dick. "My head aches, and I'm tired.Well, yes, I will."
"That's right, my boy. I want you to master this weakness," said hisfather. "And besides, I want you to try how your horse stands fire.Nip him tightly with your knees."
Dick cocked his double-barrelled breechloader--fired--and the serpenthissed loudly and began to descend, but a shot from Jack's rifle laid itwrithing on the ground, when, before it could be prevented, Rough'unseized it behind the head, worrying it furiously.
Fortunately the creature was mortally wounded, or it might have gonehard with one of the dogs, its poison being very violent; and the otherscoming up soon tore it to pieces.
"Your horses behaved admirably," said Mr Rogers. "You must train them,my boys, so that they will stand where you leave them, and take no morenotice of a shot fired over their heads than at a distance."
They halted directly after for a midday meal, the oxen finding aplentiful supply of fresh grass and water, and after a good rest theywere once more on the way, the horses behind under the care of Dinny andthe Zulu warrior.
Mr Rogers and his sons were close to the oxen, Coffee and Chicory wereclose behind, and they were inspecting the team, which was pullingsteadily and well, when Mr Rogers said,--
"Well, boys, we may as well get our guns. We shall soon be in thehunting country now."
"Hi! Yup-yup-yup!" shouted Coffee.
"Ho! Yup-yup-yup!" yelled Chicory. The dogs began to yelp and bark;and in the excitement, as they saw an animal like a great long-earedspotted cat dash out of a clump of trees and make for some rocky ground,all joined in the chase; Mr Rogers ran as hard as the rest, forcing hispith hunting-helmet down over his head. Coffee got well in front,waving his arms and shouting; but Chicory trod upon a thorn and began tolimp. As for Jack, in his excitement he tripped over a stump, and fellsprawling; while Dick had hard work to save himself from a similarmishap. Last of all, whip in hand, came the foreloper, who had left theoxen in his excitement, flourishing and cracking his lash.
There was a sharp hunt for a few minutes, during which the followerstoiled on over the rocky ground, seeing nothing after their firstglimpse of the lynx--for such Mr Rogers declared it to be; then theymet the dogs coming back, looking very stupid, and quite at fault.
Rough'un, however, went on with Coffee, and Jack followed, to find thatthe lynx had evidently gone down a deep rift, where it was impossible tofollow it; so they went back to the waggons, both Jack and his fatherdetermining that in future they would never be without either gun orrifle in hand.
Every minute, almost, as they journeyed on, the boys realised the valueof having the waggon made in the best manner, and of the strongest woodthat could be obtained, for it bumped and swayed about, creakingdismally beneath its heavy load, and making the casks and pots slungbeneath clatter together every now and then, as it went over some largerstone than usual. They saw too the value of a good foreloper; for if acareless man were at the head of the oxen, the waggon might at anymoment be wrecked over some rugged rock or sunk to the floor in a blackpatch of bog.
The dogs seemed rather ashamed of themselves after the chase of thelynx, and went with lolling tongues to trot behind the waggon, Pompeynow and then making an angry snatch at Caesar, while Crassus threw uphis muzzle and uttered a dismal yelp. Rough'un, too, did not seemhappy, but to have that lynx on his conscience; for he kept running outfrom beneath the waggon, and looking back as if bound to finish thechase by hunting the cat-like creature out; but he always altered hismind and went under the waggon once more, to walk close to the heels ofthe last pair of oxen, one of which looked back from time to time in athoughtful meditative way, with its great soft eyes, as if inconsideration whether it ought to kick out and send Rough'un flying.
This act made Rough'un run forward, and as the ox bent down snuffing atit, the dog leaped up at its muzzle, then at that of the next ox, andwent on right along the whole span, saluting all in turn without gettingtrampled, and ending by retaking his place beneath the waggon front.
For Rough'un was a dog of a different breed to his fellows, and thoughhe hunted with them he did not associate with them afterwards, but kepthimself to himself.
There was not much to interest the boys after the first excitement ofthe start was over, for they had to travel over plain and mountain forsome distance before they would reach ground that had not been wellhunted over by the settlers; but every step took them nearer, and therewere endless matters to canvass. For instance, there were thecapabilities of their horses, which grew in favour every time they weremounted; the excellences of their guns, presented to them by theirfather for the expedition, light handy pieces, double-barrelledbreechloaders, the right-hand barrel being that of an ordinary shot-gun,the left-hand being a rifle sighted up to three hundred yards.
It would be hard to say how many times these guns were loaded andunloaded, slung across their owners' backs and taken down again, whilethe eagerness with which they looked forward to some good opening fortrying their skill was notable.
But beyond an occasional bird which fled with a loud cry at the approachof the waggon, and a little herd of springbok seen upon the edge of alow hill quite a mile away, there was little to break the monotony ofthe journey over the hot sandy waste, and every one was pretty wearywhen, just at sundown, they came in sight of a low house, the abode of aBoer who had settled there some years before, and who, with his largefamily, seemed to be perfectly content, and who smiled with satisfactionon being presented with some sweets in return for his civility inpointing out the places where the out-spanned oxen could find anabundance of grass and water.
Here the first experience of sleeping in a waggon was gone through, andvery comical it seemed to boys who were accustomed to the comforts of awell-regulated home.
Dick laughed, and said that it was like sleeping in the attic, while theservants slept in the kitchen, for the drivers and the three Zulus madethemselves snug under the waggon, Dinny joining them very unwillingly,after a verbal encounter with Dick, who, however much he might bewanting in bodily strength, was pretty apt with his tongue.
"Sure, Masther Dick, sir, Dinny's the last boy in the world to grumble;but I'm a good Christian, and the blacks are as haythen as can be."
"Well, Dinny, and what of that?"
"Why, ye see, Masther Dick, I'm a white man, and they are all blacks;and," he added with a grin, "I shouldn't like to catch the complaint."
"What complaint, Dinny?"
"Why, sure, sir, it would be very painful to you and Masther Jack there,and the masther himself, if you found poor Dinny get up some finemorning as black as a crow."
"Get along with you," cried Jack.
"Oh, be easy, Masther Jack, dear," cried Dinny; "and how would you liketo slape under a waggon wid five sacks of smoking and living coals likethem Zulus and Kaffirs is?"
"I wouldn't mind," replied Jack. "We are on a hunting expedition, andwe must take things in the rough."
"Sure an' it is rough indade," grumbled Dinny. "I'm thinking I'd rathergo sthraight home to my poor owld mother's cabin, and slape there dacentlike, wid nothing worse in it than the poor owld pig."
Off to the Wilds: Being the Adventures of Two Brothers Page 5
