The Fire Trumpet Part 16

The brute shows no signs of leaving him, for it charges the tree in which he has found refuge, ripping off great pieces of bark in its fury; and from his vantage ground, Hicks can see other wild swine making off in the distance through the bushes. And now the voices of men and dogs are drawing near--very near--and the old tusker, wise in time, throws up his head, sniffs the air a moment, and makes off into the cover with a disappointed grunt, while Hicks shouts l.u.s.tily for a.s.sistance.

"Here--Tiger--Punch--Erdwacht--Sah! Sah--in, boys--Sah--Sah!" he calls out, descending from his prison, as several of the larger dogs come running up. Then as they strike the scent of the wild pig, they rush off on the spoor with full-throated chorus.

"What is it, Hicks?" sings out Jim, riding slowly through the bush.

"Pig--pig--He's. .h.i.t, too!" replies Hicks, wild with excitement, as he drags out his horse and springs into the saddle.

"Pig! Come along; we'll have him," says Jim, spurring up; and the two dash off in the wake of the dogs, whose clamour may be heard far ahead.

The bush is thick, and here and there they meet with a check; but thorns and brambles are nothing when such quarry is in view, and Hicks hardly notices a gash left in his ear by a specially wicked _wacht-am-bietje_ spike as he is half dragged through the thicket by his horse.

"He's at bay, by Jove!" says Jim, as the clamour becomes stationary just in front of them. "Come on; here he is!" And in an open glade, in an angle formed by two bushes of bristling thorns, stood the boar, the dogs springing and snapping around him, but none of them quite liking to tackle him.

"Wait! I can get a good shot at him now," said Jim, dismounting.

"Better let _me_ do it; it's a ticklish shot, and you might hit one of the dogs. Besides, it's all the same; he's yours anyhow. You drew first blood."

The creature is hard pressed now, and the foam lies on him in flakes as he chums with his tusks and snaps at his crowding, yelling foes. Crack!

He sinks lifeless, the blood pouring from a hole in his forehead where Jim's bullet has found its mark; and then the dogs throw themselves on the carcase, snarling and tearing in their excitement.

"Off, you brutes, off!" sings out Jim, coming up.

"Off! You're plucky enough when the pig's dead. Maarman--Spry--you _schelms_! What's come over you?" And dispersing them with a kick or two, he and Hicks proceed to inspect the quarry.

"I'll make something out of those tusks," says Hicks. "No, I won't, though; I'll keep the whole skull."

"It's devilish lucky you had that tree handy," says Jim. "He'd have cut you to ribbons."

"Hullo! Where's the pig?" asks Armitage, who, with the others, appear on the scene; and the Kafirs, standing round the defunct animal, fire off a volley of astonished "whaows," and Thorman is heard to mutter something about "not having got a shot the whole d.a.m.ned morning, and that the d.a.m.ned Britishers seem to get all the fun."

"By Jove! Those brutes of dogs have wallowed in all the water!"

exclaimed Jim, in consternation, as the party arrived at their midday halting-place. "Faugh! It's quite spoilt," he added, surveying the fluid in question, which at no time specially inviting to any but a very thirsty man, was now positively nauseous, as the tired animals had rolled and splashed in it before any one had come up. "What will we do?

Wait--there may be a little in the hole higher up; let's go and see.

Ah! it's all right?" he called out, his exploration having proved satisfactory. "Jolwane, keep the dogs away from this, whatever you do."

"That's fortunate," said Claverton. "On a day like this, brandy without water is pretty much the same as mustard without beef."

They sat down to eat their lunch in true hunter fas.h.i.+on. Mighty sandwiches, hastily rolled in a bit of newspaper, strips of _biltong_ [Note 1], and hunks of cheese, began to make their appearance from the capacious pockets of shooting-coats, while the contents of the spring were rendered more palatable by the addition of those of sundry flasks which pa.s.sed from hand to hand.

It was a picturesque scene enough. The roughly-clad group lying and sitting about in various att.i.tudes, their guns resting against a tree, and in rows upon the gra.s.s were the spoils, prominent among which was the huge carcase of the boar. Dogs lay panting in the shade, a few of them sitting on their haunches behind the hungry sportsmen, waiting for stray sc.r.a.ps which might be thrown them, and in the background squatted the red forms of the Kafirs, whose deep voices kept up a continual hum as they chattered among themselves and smoked their quaint, angular pipes, or devoured a mess of cold mealies, while their kerries and a.s.segais lay on the ground beside them. Above, a great cliff towered in rugged ma.s.ses; around stretched the evergreen bush.

"Have a _sopje_ (dram), Oom Isaac?" said Naylor, holding up a big flask, and filling out a substantial measure, as the Dutchman replied in the affirmative.

"Ach! Det is alto lekker," (that's awfully good), said old Van Rooyen, drawing his sleeve across his mouth, and Naylor replenished the cup for the benefit of the youthful Piet.

"So you got a buck after all, Arthur?" said Jim.

"Yes, just now--up there."

"He thinks the bucks here are all eighteen inches too short," struck in Jeffreys, with half a sneer.

"That was only in the first kloof, Jeffreys. They're longer about here, you see," replied Claverton, filling his pipe. "Give us a light, Jack."

"Here you are, old Baas. One good turn deserves another, so just throw that flask at me--thanks. Fancy Hicks treed by a pig--eh!"

"You shut up," called out that worthy. "Didn't I see you turn tail when that buck ran right over you?"

"No--you didn't--so help me Moses. But Hicks, you ought not to have missed the pig at no yards."

The other retorted, and so they went on, bandying chaff and fighting the morning's battles over again, till at length it became time to resume operations. Horses were caught and saddled, and the Kafirs calling their curs, started off to beat the bush again--but not with the same spirit as before, for the day was piping hot and the dogs were beginning to flag--some would hardly be induced to enter the bush at all, but trotted along with lolling tongue, panting in the heat, and by the time they had swept down a couple of bits of bush it became obvious that most of the sport was already behind their backs.

"We'll just drive this kloof through and then knock off," said Jim.

"Now then, here's every one's last chance. Allen, you haven't got your buck yet."

They resumed the drive, and the slumbrous calm of the quiet valley was broken now and again by a ringing shot, and the blue smoke curled up through the golden haze in the still, summer afternoon; and every living thing was routed out of its. .h.i.therto secure retreat before the advancing line of beaters, to run the gauntlet for its life, to fall before its ambushed foe, or haply to escape until some future field day.

Note 1. Biltong is meat which has been dried in the sun till it is quite hard. It is usually made of venison or beef.

VOLUME ONE, CHAPTER TWELVE.

A WILD NIGHT.

The morning after the hunt was gloomy and dispiriting, for the weather had undergone a complete change daring the night, and now, instead of blue sky and a sunny landscape, a dense vaporous curtain hung over the kloofs, everywhere thick, heavy and impenetrable, while from the dull grey sky fell a continuous and soaking drizzle.

"I say, but it'll be poor fun riding back in this," exclaimed Hicks, contemplating the spongy ground splashed by the drippings from the iron roof. "We shall have to wait until it clears."

"Shall we? Speak for yourself, Mr Hicks. _We_ are not made of sugar,"

said Ethel, mockingly. She was in high spirits this morning and br.i.m.m.i.n.g over with mischief.

"Now that _is_ rational," put in a voice behind her. "Hadn't we better start at once?"

She turned. "Oh, so you are afraid of the elements, too. Then out of consideration for you two, we shall have to wait. Or shall we go on and leave them, Laura?"

"They deserve it," said Laura. Then dubiously: "It's a nuisance, though, because I know aunt will be expecting us back."

"Now look here," rejoined Claverton, quietly. "Your aunt specially authorised me to see that you did nothing rash. Getting wet through under circ.u.mstances totally unnecessary is an eminently rash proceeding.

Wherefore I am constrained to lay an embargo on anything of the kind.

More especially as by two o'clock there will not be a cloud in the sky."

"Won't there? Two to one there will. What shall it be?" cut in Armitage.

"Jack never bets. At least I heard him not many days ago striving hard to convince a Methodist parson of that fact," said Claverton, appealing to the company in general.

"Wanted to throw him off his guard and book the devil-dodger for a venture. Besides, it wasn't a parson, it was only that humbugging old Garthorpe, who goes about preaching, and--"

"I should have thought you had found out he wasn't such an a.s.s as he looked, Jack," said Naylor, significantly.