The forest which Willem at first feared might be miles in extent, proved
to be but a mere strip of timber, through which he soon passed,
discovering an open plain on the other side. Nothing could be seen of
the camelopard, though its tracks were found leading out upon the plain.
Willem's wishes were very difficult to meet. At first he was afraid the
giraffe would be lost in a dense forest, where he would be unable to
gallop after it on horseback. Now, when contemplating the vast plain
before him, he feared that the flight of the escaped captive might be
continued for many miles, and he regretted that it had gone out of the
timber.
The trees would have given it food and shelter, where it might have
stayed until overtaken; but it was not likely to make halt on an open
plain.
It must now be many miles off, since they could see nothing of it.
The tracks could be followed but very slowly,--not half so fast as the
animal itself had made them, while going in search of the kindred from
which it had been so rudely separated several days before. The longer
they continued to take up the spoor, the farther they would be from the
animal that had left it.
All this was fully understood by our adventurers.
"It's no use going farther," remarked Hendrik. "We have lost the
creature beyond all hope of recovery. We may as well turn back to
camp."
"Not a bit of it," answered Willem. "The giraffe is mine, and I sha'n't
part with it so cheaply. I'll follow it as long as I have strength left
me sufficient to sit upon my horse. It must stop sometime and
somewhere; and, whenever that time comes, I shall be there not long
after to have another look at it."
Thinking that an hour or two more of what he considered a hopeless
chase, would satisfy even Willem, Hendrik made no further objections,
but continued on after Congo, who was leading along the spoor.
The sun had by this crossed the meridian, and commenced descending
towards the western horizon.
They had started from camp without eating breakfast; and their sudden
departure had prevented them from bringing any food along with them.
Thirsty and feeble from the long fast, and the fatigue of tracking under
a hot sun, they continued their course in anything but a lively fashion.
"Willem!" at length exclaimed Hendrik, suddenly pulling up his horse, "I
am willing to do anything in reason, but I think we have already gone on
this worse than wild-goose chase, a good many miles too far. We can
scarce get back to the camp before nightfall, and I shall commence
returning now."
"All right," answered Willem. "I can't blame you. You are free to do
as you please; but I shall go on. I need not expect others to act as
foolishly as myself. This is my own affair, and you as well as Congo
had better turn back. Leave me the dog, and I can track up the giraffe
without you."
"No! no!! baas Willem," exclaimed the Kaffir. "I go with you and
Spoor'em. We no leave you."
Willem, Congo, and the dog moved on, leaving Hendrik gazing after them.
He remained on the spot where he had pulled up his horse. "Now this is
interesting," muttered the young cornet, as he saw them go off upon the
spoor. "I have been acting without motives,--acting like a fool ever
since we have been out on this expedition. Circumstances have driven me
to it and will do so again. Yes. I must follow Willem. Why should I
desert him when that poor Kaffir remains true? If his friendship worth
more than mine?"
Spurring his horse into a gallop, Hendrik was soon once more by the side
of his forsaken companion.
Willem had a strong suspicion that he was himself acting without reason,
in seeking for an object he could hardly expect to find. This sage
reflection did not prevent him from continuing the search. Half
distracted by the loss of the camelopard, he was scarce capable of
knowing whether he now acted sensibly, or like a fool!
To all appearance Hendrik had only followed him for the purpose of
prevailing upon him to return.
Every argument that could be advanced against their proceeding farther
was used by the young cornet,--all to no purpose. Willem was determined
to proceed, and persisted in his determination.
Evening approached, and still was he unwilling to give up the search.
They could not return that night, for they were now nearly a day's
journey from the camp.
"Willem is mad,--hopelessly mad," thought Hendrik, "and I must not leave
him alone."
They journey on together, and in silence, Hendrik fast approaching that
state of mind in which he had just pronounced Willem to be.
But their journey was approaching its termination. It was nearer than
either of them expected to a successful issue.
A clump of trees was seen rising up over the plain. They were willows,
and indicated the proximity of water.
Towards these the tracks appeared to lead in a line almost direct. The
giraffe, guided by its instinct, had scented water. The horses ridden
by the trackers did the same, and hastened forward to the clump of
trees.
There was a pool in the centre of the grove, and on its edge an animal,
the sight of which drew an exclamation of joy from the lips of Groot
Willem. It was the escaped camelopard. A second joyful shout was
caused by their perceiving that it was again a captive.
The loose rheim, which it had carried away round its neck, had become
entangled among the bushes, and it was now secured so that they had no
difficulty in laying hold of it. Had they not come upon the spot, it
would have perished either by the suicidal act of half-strangulation,
from thirst, or by the teeth of some fierce predatory animal.
The rheim was now unwound from the saplings to which it had attached
itself, and the giraffe released from its irksome attitude. No harm had
yet befallen it.
"Now, Hendrik," exclaimed Willem, as he gazed upon the captive with an
expression of pride and pleasure, "is it not better that we have saved
this poor creature than to have left it to die a horrible death?"
"Yes, certainly," answered his companion. "Much good may sometimes
result from what may appear a foolish course of conduct."
Satisfied with the result of his perseverance, Willem was quite
indifferent as to whether his conduct had been foolish or otherwise.
Congo did not seem the least surprised at the good fortune of his
master; probably for the reason that he had the utmost confidence in his
wisdom, and never for a moment had doubted that the giraffe would be
discovered.
Willem never was without the means of lighting a fire,--he was too fond
of a pipe for that,--and near a large blazing heap of wood they remained
until the first appearance of day.
The journey back to the camp was a tedious one, but was made with much
less heaviness of spirit than they had suffered when leaving it to go in
search of the lost giraffe, which fortune had so favoured them in
finding.