It seemed some little time before the Zulu appeared at the bottom of the
slope; but when he emerged from the woods, Mr Rogers could see that he
had been cutting some sticks, and on bringing the glass to bear he made
out that the Zulu was straightening them as he ran.
The boys saw him coming, and waved their caps; while, when the General
joined them, they all bent over the game together, the Zulu apparently
being very busy, and making Mr Rogers impatient, for he wanted to get
back to breakfast, which must then be ready.
"There is some reason for it, I dare say," said Mr Rogers, gazing
through his glass. "Why, they are all coming away! The animal will be
devoured. It is bad, perhaps."
He waited patiently, seeing the little party return; and as they left
the fallen gnu he saw the vultures come dropping down from the trees
where they had been waiting, till there were over twenty by the game,
round which they formed a circle, but they did not approach near.
"Strange!" thought Mr Rogers. "I wonder they don't tear it up.
Perhaps it is still alive. If so they ought to have put the poor thing
out of its misery. I shall speak sharply to Master Dick about such
wanton cruelty."
Mr Rogers wanted his breakfast, and, as he had had no excitement, he
felt cross, so that it seemed as if the boys would get what Jack
irreverently called a wigging. But the sight of his sons' bright
excited faces as they ran up the slope, drove away his ill-humour.
"Why, Dick!" he cried, "how you run!"
"Do I, father?" cried the boy, excitedly, "But did you see what a
splendid shot Jack made? I missed twice, but he brought his gnu down.
It's a fine young bull."
"Then you are not jealous of his luck?" said his father.
"Oh, no," laughed Dick. "It will be my turn next time."
"Bravo, Jack!" cried Mr Rogers. "But why did you leave the game to the
vultures? Dick says it was a fine young bull."
"Oh, it's all right, father," cried Jack, who now ran panting up to his
father's side. "The General has cut it up partly, and has brought the
liver and kidneys, and a bit or two to cook for breakfast."
"But it was a pity to leave so much good meat, my boys; I don't like
wanton waste."
"But it's all right, father," said Dick. "The General has stuck some
pieces of wood round and over it, and he says the vultures won't go near
it for hours, for fear it should be a trap."
Mr Rogers opened his glass, and looked at the fallen game; and sure
enough there sat the vultures in a ring, contemplating the sticks that
the General had stuck up round it, but not one went near.
The Zulu smiled as he came up, bearing the delicate portions of the gnu
skewered upon one of his assegais; and hurrying back to the camp, Peter
and Dirk were given full directions which way to go, and sent off with
three oxen, and a roughly-contrived carriage for the game formed by
cutting down a great forked branch of a tree to attach to the oxen
yokes. But when ready for starting they suggested the advisability of
their having guns, which being supplied, they started off, looking
rather longingly though at the preparations for breakfast.
A good fire was burning, and coffee was made, Dinny looking very
disconsolate and miserable; but the sight of the fresh meat seemed to do
him good, for a broad grin expanded his features, and getting the
frying-pan out of the box that held the cooking apparatus, he soon had
some savoury morsels peppered, salted, and sputtering on the fire.
"I feel as if I could eat heaps," said Jack. "Oh, I say, father, isn't
breakfast lovely out here under these green trees?"
Mr Rogers agreed that it was; and certainly nothing could have been
more glorious than the scene--the deep blue sky, the glorious sunshine,
the bright green of the trees, the chirping, whistling, and screaming of
the birds that thronged the brambles, and above all the delicious
fragrance of the endless flowering shrubs and flowers.
It was all enjoyable in the extreme, the abundant breakfast adding
wonderfully to the pleasure. Even the oxen and horses seemed perfectly
happy, for there was an abundance of short, sweet grass for them to
crop, while the little Zulu party seemed happiness itself.
A goodly portion of the gnu had been given over to the General, and
despising the frying-pan, he and his boys toasted the pieces of flesh in
the fire, and ate them hissing hot; the effect upon Coffee being that he
did nothing but grin, and rub the portion of his brown person which he
called his "tum-tum," while his brother gave vent to his excitement and
pleasure by either lying down and rolling himself over and over, or else
by trying to stand upon his head, a very agreeable style of acrobatic
trick, but decidedly inconvenient at breakfast-time.
As, however, just when he had arrived at a perfect equilibrium, and had
his heels straight up in the air, he overbalanced himself, and instead
of coming back upon his toes he went over upon his heels, which he
planted in the hot ashes, Chicory thought the performance had gone
sufficiently far, and went on eating his breakfast in what Dinny called
a more Chrishtanly-like way.
Just as they had finished, and Jack had thoroughly recovered from a
violent fit of coughing and choking, consequent upon seeing Chicory
stick his heels in the fire, while he--Jack--was drinking his coffee,
there came from behind them the crack of a whip, and Peter's harsh voice
shouting, "Trek, boys! trek!" accompanied by the rustling, scrambling
noise made by a great branch being drawn over the ground; and directly
after the slow, patient oxen came into sight, chewing away at their
cuds, as they used their tails to whisk away the flies, and dragged
Jack's game into camp.
It proved to be a splendid young gnu, and the boys examined with
curiosity its shaggy head, with its curiously bent down and curved up
horns, and general likeness to horse, antelope, and bull, as if it were
related to each. Then the Zulu, with Dirk's help, rapidly skinned it;
portions were set apart for immediate use, some of the best cut up in
strips by the General, and hung in the sun upon the bushes to form what
is called "biltong," that is, strips of sun-dried meat, the sun baking
it up so quickly that it has not time to go bad, and the rest was left
for another fate.
For it was most amusing to watch the dogs, sitting all four in a row,
hungrily looking at the skinning and cutting up of the gnu. They
watched with the most intense interest the whole process, following the
General to and fro, and thankfully swallowing any scraps he threw them.
When the skin was taken off and spread upon the waggon-tilt to dry,
Pompey, Caesar, and Crassus followed, as if to see that it was properly
spread out, Rough'un being the only one who protested against the plan,
for his look plainly said that he wanted to lick that skin on the fleshy
side; and as he was not allowed to go through that process, he kept
uttering low, dissatisfied whines, to Jack's great delight; while, when
he saw Peter climb up, and Dirk hand him the skin, he uttered a yell of
disappointment at what he evidently considered to be the waste of so
much good fat.
This yell from Rough'un had its effects upon Pompey, Caesar, and
Crassus, which triumvirate did not behave at all after the manner of the
stolid, patient, noble Romans whose names they bore; but one and all set
up their noses as high as they could, getting mouth and throat in a
direct line, and sang a trio--but so dolefully out of tune, that Dinny
picked up the General's assegai, and gave each one a tap on the head
with the handle.
At least he meant to do so. He certainly hit Pompey and Caesar sounding
cracks; but Crassus made a movement, and received his blow on the neck--
so unfair a place, he evidently supposed, that it roused his temper, and
he snapped at and seized the handle of the assegai in his teeth.
Now Dinny's hands were greasy with helping to skin the gnu, and the
handle of the assegai kept slipping through his fingers, and threatening
to cut them against the blade; to avoid which, as the dog tugged
fiercely and dragged at the handle, Dinny kept taking a fresh hold hand
over hand, as if he were hauling rope, abusing the dog at the same time.
"Ah, get out, ye dirty baste," he cried. "Let go, will ye?"
_Worry_! _worry_! _worry_! growled Crassus, holding on with all his
might of jaw, which was really great; and seeing the successful effort
made by their companion, Pompey and Caesar began to bark and bay at
Dinny on either side of Crassus.
"Oh, here's a game, Dick!" cried Jack, holding his sides and laughing.
"Call 'em off, will ye?" cried Dinny. "Ah, get out, ye dirty, yelping
bastes."
"Serve you right, for hitting them in that cruel way," said Dick
cynically; while seeing the fun, as they seemed to consider it, Coffee
and Chicory each seized his kiri, and began to perform a war-dance round
Dinny and the dogs.
"Lave go, will ye?" cried Dinny to Crassus. "Sure it's a taste of the
other end I'll be giving ye dreckerly."
Crassus evidently believed him, for he held on all the tighter. Dinny
dragged hard, but the dog's jaws had closed upon the wood like a steel
trap, and though Dinny dragged him here and there, he did not leave go;
and so sure as the man began to obtain a little advantage, Pompey and
Caesar made such a desperate attack upon his rear that he immediately
lost ground, and the French and English tug-of-war continued, the dogs
barking, Dinny abusing them, and the boys, black as well as white,
shouting with delight.
This was very good fun for the latter, but anything but pleasant for
Dinny. In fact, so bad was his case, and so threatening the aspect of
the dogs, that any one who would have insured the legs of Dinny's
trousers from being torn by the dogs, would have been guilty of a very
insane act, especially as Rough'un, after sitting up on end encouraging
Crassus to hold on to the assegai staff by a loud bark now and then,
suddenly took it into his head to join in the fray.
For Dinny had not been particularly friendly to him since they started.
Upon one occasion Dinny had tickled him--so he called it--with Peter's
whip, the tickling consisting in giving the dog so severe a flick that
it seemed like taking out a piece of the flesh; while no later than that
morning Rough'un felt that he had been misused in the matter of the skin
that he wanted to lick.
So, unable to bear matters any longer, Rough'un, who had momentarily
grown more excited, suddenly made an open-mouthed onslaught upon the
assegai stock.
"Carl him off, Masther Dick, Masther Jack. Oh, murther, what'll I do.
Ah! get out--get--"
Dinny said no more, but loosed his hold of the assegai, and fled,
leaping on to the front box of the waggon, and then climbing in beneath
the tilt, while the dogs chased him, barking and baying him furiously.
This did not last, however, for the denuding of the gnu's bones was
pretty well ended, and one of the oxen dragged the remains into the
forest, when the dogs were called up, and Dinny was forgotten.