There was but little in the way of incident for some time. The dogs
seemed to be never weary of hunting here and there, thrusting their
noses under every rock, their heads into every hole; but they found
nothing till after the midday halt, when a furious barking from the
setter Rough'un took the attention of all, and Mr Rogers and the boys
cantered up to a thin cluster of trees, where, on what seemed to be at
first a broken stump, but which on nearer inspection proved to be a tall
ragged ant-hill, a vicious-looking snake was curled, swinging its head
about threateningly, and darting out its forked tongue at the dog, which
kept 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 his
father. "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 serpent
hissed loudly and began to descend, but a shot from Jack's rifle laid it
writhing on the ground, when, before it could be prevented, Rough'un
seized it behind the head, worrying it furiously.
Fortunately the creature was mortally wounded, or it might have gone
hard with one of the dogs, its poison being very violent; and the others
coming 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 more
notice of a shot fired over their heads than at a distance."
They halted directly after for a midday meal, the oxen finding a
plentiful supply of fresh grass and water, and after a good rest they
were once more on the way, the horses behind under the care of Dinny and
the Zulu warrior.
Mr Rogers and his sons were close to the oxen, Coffee and Chicory were
close behind, and they were inspecting the team, which was pulling
steadily and well, when Mr Rogers said,--
"Well, boys, we may as well get our guns. We shall soon be in the
hunting 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-eared
spotted 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 his
pith hunting-helmet down over his head. Coffee got well in front,
waving his arms and shouting; but Chicory trod upon a thorn and began to
limp. As for Jack, in his excitement he tripped over a stump, and fell
sprawling; while Dick had hard work to save himself from a similar
mishap. Last of all, whip in hand, came the foreloper, who had left the
oxen in his excitement, flourishing and cracking his lash.
There was a sharp hunt for a few minutes, during which the followers
toiled on over the rocky ground, seeing nothing after their first
glimpse of the lynx--for such Mr Rogers declared it to be; then they
met the dogs coming back, looking very stupid, and quite at fault.
Rough'un, however, went on with Coffee, and Jack followed, to find that
the lynx had evidently gone down a deep rift, where it was impossible to
follow it; so they went back to the waggons, both Jack and his father
determining that in future they would never be without either gun or
rifle in hand.
Every minute, almost, as they journeyed on, the boys realised the value
of having the waggon made in the best manner, and of the strongest wood
that could be obtained, for it bumped and swayed about, creaking
dismally beneath its heavy load, and making the casks and pots slung
beneath clatter together every now and then, as it went over some larger
stone than usual. They saw too the value of a good foreloper; for if a
careless man were at the head of the oxen, the waggon might at any
moment be wrecked over some rugged rock or sunk to the floor in a black
patch of bog.
The dogs seemed rather ashamed of themselves after the chase of the
lynx, and went with lolling tongues to trot behind the waggon, Pompey
now and then making an angry snatch at Caesar, while Crassus threw up
his muzzle and uttered a dismal yelp. Rough'un, too, did not seem
happy, but to have that lynx on his conscience; for he kept running out
from beneath the waggon, and looking back as if bound to finish the
chase by hunting the cat-like creature out; but he always altered his
mind and went under the waggon once more, to walk close to the heels of
the last pair of oxen, one of which looked back from time to time in a
thoughtful meditative way, with its great soft eyes, as if in
consideration 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 at
it, the dog leaped up at its muzzle, then at that of the next ox, and
went on right along the whole span, saluting all in turn without getting
trampled, and ending by retaking his place beneath the waggon front.
For Rough'un was a dog of a different breed to his fellows, and though
he hunted with them he did not associate with them afterwards, but kept
himself to himself.
There was not much to interest the boys after the first excitement of
the start was over, for they had to travel over plain and mountain for
some distance before they would reach ground that had not been well
hunted over by the settlers; but every step took them nearer, and there
were endless matters to canvass. For instance, there were the
capabilities of their horses, which grew in favour every time they were
mounted; the excellences of their guns, presented to them by their
father for the expedition, light handy pieces, double-barrelled
breechloaders, 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 and
unloaded, slung across their owners' backs and taken down again, while
the eagerness with which they looked forward to some good opening for
trying their skill was notable.
But beyond an occasional bird which fled with a loud cry at the approach
of the waggon, and a little herd of springbok seen upon the edge of a
low hill quite a mile away, there was little to break the monotony of
the journey over the hot sandy waste, and every one was pretty weary
when, just at sundown, they came in sight of a low house, the abode of a
Boer who had settled there some years before, and who, with his large
family, seemed to be perfectly content, and who smiled with satisfaction
on being presented with some sweets in return for his civility in
pointing out the places where the out-spanned oxen could find an
abundance of grass and water.
Here the first experience of sleeping in a waggon was gone through, and
very comical it seemed to boys who were accustomed to the comforts of a
well-regulated home.
Dick laughed, and said that it was like sleeping in the attic, while the
servants slept in the kitchen, for the drivers and the three Zulus made
themselves snug under the waggon, Dinny joining them very unwillingly,
after a verbal encounter with Dick, who, however much he might be
wanting 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 fine
morning as black as a crow."
"Get along with you," cried Jack.
"Oh, be easy, Masther Jack, dear," cried Dinny; "and how would you like
to slape under a waggon wid five sacks of smoking and living coals like
them Zulus and Kaffirs is?"
"I wouldn't mind," replied Jack. "We are on a hunting expedition, and
we must take things in the rough."
"Sure an' it is rough indade," grumbled Dinny. "I'm thinking I'd rather
go sthraight home to my poor owld mother's cabin, and slape there dacent
like, wid nothing worse in it than the poor owld pig."