THE SENTINEL KOODOO.
When Oscar reached the fountain he was surprised to find no traces of
the terrible conflict that had taken place there the night before. He
knew it was no uncommon thing for a fight like that to terminate only
with the death of one of the combatants, and he could not understand how
two animals, as strong and active as lions were, could struggle so long
and desperately without leaving at least a few drops of blood behind
them to testify to the severity of the contest in which they had been
engaged. But Oscar could discover none, and in fact he could see nothing
to indicate that there had been any game about the fountain during the
night, for the hoofs of the horses and oxen had obliterated all the
tracks.
The hounds, however, knew that some of the fleet-footed antelopes they
had so often followed had been there, for their noses told them so, and,
well trained as they were, it was all the stout Kaffir could do to
control them.
Having looked about the fountain to his satisfaction, Oscar told the
Kaffir to go ahead, and the latter, still holding the hounds in the
leash, at once set off in the direction in which the wounded buffalo had
disappeared.
There was no spoor to follow at this point that Oscar could see, for the
plain was literally covered with hoof-prints, and it did not seem
possible that the most expert trailer could distinguish the prints of
the buffalo's feet from among so many. But the Kaffir, who seemed to
know just what he was about, was never once at fault. He led the way at
a rapid pace, passing around the outskirts of several little groves of
mimosa trees and thickets of thorn bushes, at which Oscar looked
suspiciously, telling himself the while what splendid hiding-places they
would make for any angry buffalo or hungry beast of prey which might
feel inclined to dispute their further advance, and after he had gone
about three miles he suddenly stopped his horse and pointed silently
before him.
Oscar looked and saw something lying on the ground a short distance
away. He rode up to it, and found that it was the carcass of the
buffalo. The head, crowned with the formidable-looking horns, but
stripped bare of flesh, some of the larger bones, and a few tufts of
hair were all that were left of the terrible beast that had come so near
ending his career as a hunter.
The Kaffir dismounted to secure the heads of his spears, which had been
broken from the shafts, while the hounds, detecting the recent presence
of the fierce carnivora that had feasted there, raised the bristles on
the back of their necks and showed their white teeth in the most savage
manner.
"Well, Thompson, those little spears of yours did some damage, after
all, didn't they?" said Oscar. "Our buffalo fell when he reached this
spot, and the lions made a meal of him. I was in hopes they would leave
the head alone. It wouldn't have looked bad over one of the doors of the
museum if it were well set up. I don't suppose there is any such
thing---- Hallo!"
Oscar threw the sling of his double-barrel over his arm, allowing the
weapon to drop down by the side of his horse, and hastily drawing his
field-glass from its case, brought it to bear upon a distant object that
had attracted his attention.
On the summit of a rocky hill, quite a mile and a half away, was
something that might have been taken by an inexperienced hunter for a
stump or a clump of bushes, but to Oscar's eyes it looked like an
animal. It was an animal, too; and just as Oscar raised his glass to his
eyes it moved, presenting its broadside, and giving him a fair view of
it.
The young hunter had never seen anything like it before, but he knew in
a moment what it was. The long, twisted horns, the thin, spare mane on
the neck, the long hair on the chin, throat, and breast, the narrow
bands of white descending from the back and passing obliquely down the
sides and over the hips, all of which could be plainly seen by the aid
of the powerful field-glass, told Oscar that the animal was a
koodoo--one of the largest, bravest, and most pugnacious antelopes in
Africa.
The position he occupied, and the attitude he assumed, standing, as he
did, on the top of the highest hill he could find, with his head turned
toward the hunters, whose presence he had already detected, proved that
he was a sentinel. Beyond a doubt there were others of the same species
feeding on the other side of the hill, and this old fellow was keeping
watch over them. When Oscar lowered his glass the Kaffir grinned and
nodded his head, at the same time pointing toward the sentinel with one
hand, while with the other he raised his rifle as if he were about to
shoot at him.
"That is just what I want to do," said Oscar, who readily caught the
meaning of this pantomime. "Lead on and show me how to do it. I know
I've got to creep up on him, and I want to get as close to him as I can
before I begin."
In obedience to this command the native mounted his horse and rode away,
still holding fast to the hounds, which trotted along by his side. He
did not go toward the antelope, but moved off in another direction,
holding his way over the treeless plain, upon which the sun was now
beating down with the most intense fury. The sentinel koodoo was
evidently very much interested in their movements, for Oscar could see
that he kept close watch over them.
Oscar knew that he had undertaken something that would test his skill as
a hunter to the utmost. There is not an animal that roams the African
plains that is harder to bring to bag than the koodoo. It makes little
difference to him whether he fights or runs. He does one about as well
as he does the other, and it is not an easy task to beat him at either.
When pursued on horseback he will make for the rockiest and most uneven
ground he knows of, and it is seldom that he allows the hunter to be
brought within fair shooting distance of him. If hard pressed he will
dive into a thicket of thorn bushes where a horseman cannot follow him,
and if brought to bay by the dogs he will kill them as fast as they come
to him, should they chance to be scattered in the chase so that they
cannot all attack him at once.
His immense strength (he stands more than four feet in height at the
shoulders, and is heavily built), his great courage and determination,
his sharp horns, which he uses with as much skill as a fencing-master
exhibits in handling his foils, make him the most formidable of the
antelope tribe. The most successful as well as the most sportsmanlike
way of hunting them is by stalking; and in this way Oscar hoped to be
able to secure that sentinel koodoo.
Big Thompson led his employer straight ahead until they had placed a
range of high hills between themselves and the koodoo, under cover of
which he hoped to bring Oscar within short stalking distance of the
game. Having marked well the hill on which the sentinel had been seen,
he kept on until he thought he had reached a point opposite to it, and
then he reined in his horse and looked at the boy. Oscar, who understood
what he meant, handed him his reins and dismounted.
"Now, Thompson," said he, "keep your ears open, and when you hear me
shoot, turn the dogs loose and come on at your best pace."
A short run over a rocky piece of ground brought Oscar to the foot of
one of the hills that composed the range of which we have spoken. There
he stopped to take note of the direction of the wind, and to put to
practical use one of the hunters' devices of which he had heard while he
was on the plains.
He pulled up several handfuls of weeds and grass, and tied them around
the crown of his hat in such a way that, when placed on the ground and
viewed at the distance of fifteen or twenty steps, his head-piece looked
like a luxuriant tuft of herbage that had been stepped on by something
or somebody.
"I don't think that sentinel will suspect anything when he sees that,"
thought Oscar as he placed the hat on his head, picked up his rifle, and
made his way toward the top of the hill on his hands and knees. "If it
will work in America with so shy an animal as the pronghorn, as I have
been assured it will, I do not see why it will not be equally successful
here in Africa with a koodoo."
When Oscar reached the top of the hill he found that he was not mistaken
in the opinion he had formed when he first caught sight of the sentinel
buck. The old fellow still kept his position and stood gazing steadily
in the direction in which he had seen Oscar and his after-rider
disappear, and near the base of the hill that served him for a lookout
station were the rest of the herd--a dozen of them in all--feeding in
perfect security, knowing that their sharp-eyed and keen-scented guard
would give them due notice of the approach of danger. Oscar could see
them all without the aid of his field-glass, although they were fully
half a mile away.
If the ground had been level the bare thought of stalking the koodoo
under that broiling sun would have been enough to discourage Oscar; but
fortunately it was cut up into deep gullies and ravines and covered with
hummocks and boulders, which afforded him every opportunity for
concealment. He was to leeward of the herd, too, and that was another
thing that was in his favor.
"I wouldn't take fifty dollars for my chance of bagging that buck,"
thought Oscar as he crawled slowly through the grass, keeping his eyes
fastened upon the sentinel. "He is looking the wrong way."
Before this thought had fairly been formed in the young hunter's mind
the buck faced about and turned his head in Oscar's direction. He seemed
to be looking straight at the young hunter, and to suspect something
also, for now and then he raised one of his fore feet and stamped it
spitefully on the ground.