"Father, I think we must take out Evelyn and show her how we shoot
bushbucks."
Thus Edala, one lovely morning at breakfast time.
"I don't mind. What do you say, Evelyn?"
"That it would be delightful. But shouldn't I be in your way?"
"Not if you keep quiet, and do as you are told," said Edala. "Oh, and
by the way, don't wear any colours. It's astonishing how you miss
chances that way."
"What have I got? Oh I know. I've got an old khaki coloured dress. At
the time of the Boer war, you know, some of us took on a fit of idiocy
in the way of khaki fever. It didn't last, of course, but I brought the
thing out here with me under a sort of vague impression it might be
useful in the veldt for knocking-about purposes."
"The very thing," cried Edala. "Now go and put it on, and I'll get into
my `Robin Hood' outfit. Father, you see about the horses."
"Anything else?"
"Yes--and the guns."
"But--but," protested the visitor, "I've never fired a gun in my life."
"You'll soon learn," returned Edala, tranquilly. "To-day, though, you
need only look on."
"What an Amazon the child is," laughed Evelyn. "Why I should never
learn. I'm much too nervous. Guns--kick--and all that sort of thing,
don't they?"
"Not if you hold them properly. But, that's where the `learning' part
of it comes in. Well, let's go and get our toggery on."
Thornhill did not immediately set to work to make arrangements for the
coming sport, instead he lit a pipe and sat thinking. Evelyn Carden had
been a guest under his roof for nearly three weeks now, and he was ready
to own that she had proved a very great acquisition indeed. She had
adapted herself so wholeheartedly to their way of life, and she and
Edala had taken to each other wonderfully. It was good for Edala to
have the companionship of someone approximately near her own age; the
difficulty hitherto had been to obtain such companionship for her. And
as regarded himself, why her demeanour was perfection. She could talk
brilliantly and well upon all his favourite topics, without ever
becoming contradictious or argumentative, as is the way of her sex. She
forestalled his every want, yet in such a tactful unobtrusive way; and
while perfectly frank and unconstrained, she always managed to bring
into her intercourse with him just that little scarcely perceptible
touch of deference which the difference between their ages rendered so
charming. It had more than once occurred to him that Edala might become
jealous, but with a certain grim sadness he had recognised that it might
not be altogether a bad thing if Edala did.
Now the said Edala reappeared, clad in what she termed her `Robin Hood
suit,' which by the way did not denote `bloomers' or any such atrocity,
but was merely an exceedingly workman-like blouse and skirt of sage
green, an excellent hue for blending with the prevailing tints of the
surrounding bush country. Her golden head was crowned by a soft felt
hat, without any adornment whatever.
"Father!" she cried, "you haven't done anything towards getting up the
horses, or getting things ready. And _we_ are ready."
"I don't see `we' all the same," he laughed. "I only see one. And the
day has hardly begun. Hullo! What's all that about?"
`That' was represented by an abominable and riotous clamour suddenly
raised by the dogs, who were lying outside. They had sprung up and were
pouring forth hideous defiance to the world at large. Quickly each had
seized the binoculars lying always handy for the scrutiny of new
arrivals or passers-by in the distance--and were out on the stoep.
"Why it's Elvesdon and--Prior," said Thornhill, lowering the glasses.
"And they've both brought guns. You didn't send word, did you, that you
were plotting this hunt?"
"No, and it's a beastly bore they've turned up just now," she answered
pettishly. "Now I can't take my gun."
"Why not?"
"You know I never shoot when there's a crowd."
"Oh well. We know Elvesdon well enough by this time, and Prior's only a
young 'un. I wouldn't let that count."
Edala did not want much persuading.
"We had better make a whole day of it then," she said. "I'll tell
Ramasam to put up lunch, and it had better be taken down to Bees' Nest
Kloof by one o'clock."
"All right, dear. Do that," said Thornhill rising.
By this time the new arrivals were riding up to the open space in front
of the stables; the dogs squirming and leaping around them and uttering
a perfectly frantic clamour. But it was an amicable riot this time, for
the guns carried by the two officials told those intelligent quadrupeds
that sport was afoot, wherefore they were simply beside themselves with
delight.
"Well, Elvesdon, how are you--how are you. Prior?" said Thornhill,
meeting the pair as they dismounted. "Why this is a case of the veriest
telepathy. Edala had just suggested we should show Miss Carden some
sport in the kloofs, and here you turn up, just in the very nick of
time."
"That so?" laughed Elvesdon. "Well, there was nothing particular doing
to-day, so this fellow here suggested we should invade you with an eye
to a buck or two."
"Glad of it. Come on in. Had breakfast?"
"Oh yes, before we left."
"Well, you'd better off-saddle for half an hour. We're not quite ready
ourselves."
Then the two girls came out. If Elvesdon, who was a sportsman to the
finger tips, had any misgiving that under the circumstances of two women
in the field the bag was likely to prove nothing very great, he decided
in his own mind, as he shook hands with Edala, that there were
compensations. The very plainness of her attire, the slight flush of
expectation in the flower-like face, the eager light in the clear blue
eyes, rendered the girl, in his sight, inexpressibly sweet and winning.
He thought he would contrive to keep her near him throughout the day,
even to the sacrifice, if need be, of his own share of the sport; which,
upon those terms, would be no sacrifice at all.
"And you, Miss Carden, are you a Diana too?" he laughed.
"No, no. I'm only going as a spectator."
"This little girl was shy about taking out a gun when she saw you
coming," said Thornhill, dropping a hand on to Edala's shoulder. "I
told her you wouldn't be hard on her if she misses."
"Er--I'm sure Miss Thornhill never misses," blurted out Prior,
immediately thinking himself an ass, an opinion in which Edala at the
moment freely shared.
"Well come on in, and have something after your ride," said Thornhill,
as a couple of boys came up to take the horses.
They were all very jolly and merry, chatting and making plans for the
day. Suddenly a tall figure appeared at the foot of the steps of the
stoep. The sight of it brought a queer look, though a momentary one to
Elvesdon's face.
"Oh, you've still got that chap, Thornhill," he said carelessly.
"Yes. I find him useful, and at times, rather interesting. I'll just
go out and see what he wants."
What Manamandhla wanted was this. The _Amakosi_, he perceived, were
about to have a hunt. Might not he come too, and help drive out the
bush? He loved to see a hunt, and could make himself of use.
Thornhill's thoughts on hearing this request were known to himself and
his Maker--incidentally, they may have been more than guessed at by the
Zulu--as he answered equably that the other could do so if he wished.
He was thinking how easy it was to mistake a man for a buck in thick
bush--and that a charge of Treble A at close quarters--And the laughter
and joking of those within came loud through the open windows; for
tragedy and mirth, are they not always more or less closely allied, and
running on parallel rails?
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"I say, Miss Thornhill, do let me carry your gun for you," said Prior,
eagerly, as he ranged his horse alongside. This was a new experience to
him. He had never seen a girl taking part in a hunt before, though of
course he had heard of this one doing so.
"Thanks, Mr Prior, but there's no necessity. Would you like to hold it
for me while I shoot? I am even capable of turning a door-handle for
myself at a pinch."
Elvesdon smiled, and Thornhill chuckled. Evelyn Carden did neither.
She was fond of being waltzed around, and generally thurificated.
Poor Prior dropped back snubbed. Five was an awkward number and the
track was narrow. He remembered too that he had come very near `riding
out' his chief. But the latter seemed not in any way perturbed.
Down the valley their way ran. At length they came to a neck,
overlooking a downward sweep of dense bush, intersected by a dry
watercourse. The dogs, all of a quiver with suppressed excitement,
squirmed and whined, yet ever in wholesome dread of their master's whip.
Thornhill proceeded to dispose the guns.
"Elvesdon, you go to the very bottom of the kloof--see, where those two
tree ferns stand," pointing out a spot about three quarters of a mile
away. "Prior, you take the other side, and both of you stand about
seventy yards from the _sluit_, and keep well up on the rise till you
get to your places. Edala, you take Evelyn with you. The usual place,
you know--by the red slab. There ought to be enough to keep all hands
lively to-day, we haven't hunted this kloof for half a year. I'll drive
down, with Manamandhla and Mlamvu. Give you all twenty minutes before
we start," getting out his watch.
"Right," cried Elvesdon. "Come along, Prior."
Their way lay together up to a certain point. Then Edala and Evelyn
plunged down through a straggling, gappy opening between the thicker
recesses of the bush.
"This looks as if it was going to be exciting," said the latter, none
too much at her ease among this kind of rather rough riding.
"By Jove, and it is," returned Edala, who in moments of animation was
apt to be unconventional in her speech. "We'll leave the horses here,"
she went on, sliding from her saddle, and giving her companion--who
although a good `seat' in the Row, was not quite so ready at getting on
and off as one who scarcely remembered when she could not ride--a
helping hand to doing likewise.
"Now, come along," she said, starting downwards among the loose stones,
yet hardly disturbing one of them, "and don't make any more row than you
can help."
A very few minutes of this descent brought them to a place where the
bush forked away into a comparatively open space. Below, the dry
watercourse ran, some sixty yards distant. About half that distance a
low, broad, flat rock of a reddish tint lay like a huge table.
"You always get a shot here," whispered Edala. "The bucks always scoot
along the same track, just the other side of the red slab. I pull off
on them at five yards this side of it, then, if I miss, I get them with
the second barrel when they show up beyond it."
"Shall we--shall you--get a chance to-day?" whispered the other, who had
caught her companion's excitement.
"Rather. You'll see. But get back a little more. You're showing too
much. An old bushbuck ram is no end of a _slim_ beast. The least sight
of you, and he'll double back. Ah! Now they're starting."
"Are these bucks dangerous?" asked Evelyn, her excitement for the moment
somewhat clouded by the feminine instinct of scare. It would have been
different, of course, had she been beside one of the men--her host or
Elvesdon for instance--but when her only bulwark was merely another
girl, why the thing seemed to take on a different aspect.
"Dangerous? Good Lord, no. But a wounded ram, who's still got the use
of his legs, well it doesn't do to go up to him. They've got beastly
horns, and I've twice seen a dog stuck through and through."
The English-bred girl looked at the Colonial one, with some curiosity, a
touch of increased respect and a great deal of admiration. The flush of
excitement which had come into Edala's cheeks, the sparkle in her
fearless blue eyes, rendered the face surpassingly beautiful.
"Oh, I'm not afraid with you, dear," rejoined Evelyn. "Only--you must
bear with an ignoramus."
"Ssh!" said Edala, holding up a hand. "No more talking now."