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Giraffe Hunters

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<h3>Chapter Seventy One.</h3> <h4>A Fight by Firelight.</h4> Anxiously did Groot Willem wait for the next morning and the promised visit from Congo. But the morning came and passed without any Congo, Willem became impatient, and could not content himself any longer in the camp. “This will not do,” he exclaimed, as he saw that the sun was again going down in the sky. “We must not remain here. Perhaps Congo cannot come. Of course he cannot, or he would have been here before now. We must look for him, but it will not do for all of us to go together. Hendrik, will you come with me?” Hendrik readily responded to the invitation. The two mounted their horses and rode off towards the residence of Van Ormon. From the behaviour of Congo when Willem had last seen him, the latter was quite certain that his visits at the kraal were not desired. The Kaffir probably supposed that they might interfere with his plans, by bringing suspicion upon himself. This, however, did not prevent Willem from going to see him once more. Congo had broken his promise; and that was a proof that something must be wrong. On their new visit to Mynheer Van Ormon, this gentleman did not take the slightest trouble to show them civility. “Dat plack villen you call Congo,” said he, “goed away last night. We thought he vash mit you. When you fints him again take him to der tuyfel, if you likes, and keep him dare.” “Do you think he has gone away from this place?” asked Willem of Hendrik, as they rode out from Van Ormon’s enclosures. “Yes,” answered Hendrik; “I see no reason to doubt it.” “But why did he not come to me, as he promised?” “There’s some good reason for his not having done so.” “I wish I knew in what direction he has gone.” “That difficulty may soon be removed,” said Hendrik. “I fancy I can tell it to a point of the compass. It will be found a little to east of north.” “Why do you say that?” “Because it was in that quarter we encountered the two men on the day after the giraffes were missing. Moreover, we know they are not south, for that is the way those false guides wanted us to take.” Too excited to return to camp without doing something, Willem proposed that they should ride out on the plain towards the north-east, and see whether anything could be learned about Congo. To this Hendrik agreed; and, after going southward about a mile from Van Ormon’s house, they turned, rode circuitously around it, and then struck off for the north-east. They had no great hope of finding the object of their search, but it was necessary for them to do something; and, as Hendrik’s surmise was not without some probability, they kept on. After making about five miles across the plain, they came within sight of some hills that began to loom up on the horizon to the north-east. They were still, to all appearance, about four miles distant. “Just the place where our property might be concealed,” suggested Hendrik. “No one would hide giraffes on a plain. If we do not find them yonder, and this very night, we deserve to lose them.” The sun was just setting as they reached the crest of the first range of hills. Looking back over the road they had just travelled, a horseman was seen coming across the plain, a mile distant from the spot where they had halted. “If we watch that man,” said Hendrik, “and not let him see us, we shall probably find what we’re in search of. If not one of the thieves themselves, he looks to me very like a messenger going to them from Van Ormon’s. From the behaviour of the boer, I’m now convinced that our giraffes have been stolen, and Van Ormon himself is the thief.” Riding in among some trees, they dismounted, and, securing their horses in the cover, watched the man who was approaching from the plain. In the twilight, they saw him toil slowly up the slope, a little to the east of them, and then continue his course over the summit of the ridge, going on toward the next. The night was now so dark that he could not be kept in sight without their riding very near to him. In this there would be danger. The hoof-strokes of their horses might be heard. To avoid this they permitted him to keep far in the advance, and rode slowly and noiselessly after, trusting to chance to conduct them upon his track. Fortune favoured them. On mounting a hill about half a mile from the place where they had last seen the lone horseman, they came in sight of a camp-fire that appeared burning in the bottom of the ravine below. Both dismounted, tied their horses to the trees, and silently stole towards the light. It grew larger and brighter as they advanced upon it. Without the slightest danger of being themselves seen, they drew nearer and nearer, until they could make out the figures of three men seated around the fire. These appeared engaged in an earnest confabulation. But for the messenger who had gone back to the house of Mynheer Van Ormon, Willem and Hendrik might have long wandered amongst the hills without seeing anything to reward them for their journey. As it was, they saw that which caused Willem a thrill of joy,—so intense he could scarce restrain himself from crying out. Congo’s suspicions, whether based upon instinct or reason had not been idle fancies. Tied to a tree under the glare of the camp-fire stood two young giraffes,—the animals that had not strayed but been stolen. A hurried consultation took place between the two hunters. They must obtain possession of their property, but how? They did not wish to be killed in the endeavour to right themselves, and they did not wish to kill those who had robbed them, if they could avoid doing so. “Let us give them a chance,” said Willem. “If they will surrender the stolen giraffes peaceably, we shall let them off. If not, then I mean to shoot them down without mercy. We must take the law into our own hands. There is not a court or magistrate within one hundred miles of us.” While they were thus hastily arranging upon a plan of action, the three men seated around the fire commenced cooking their suppers. Only a few words more were interchanged between Willem and Hendrik, who had come to an understanding as to how they should act. Carrying their guns at full cock, they stepped silently forward side by side and close together. Under cover of the timber they advanced within ten paces of the unsuspecting thieves, and then boldly stepped out into the light. “Keep your seats,” cried Groot Willem in a loud, commanding voice. “The first of you that stirs shall die like a dog!” The man known as “Shames,” showed signs of an intention to spring to his feet and seize hold of a gun that lay near. “Don’t! for your soul’s sake, don’t!” shouted the great hunter. The warning was not heeded; and the man rushed toward the gun, took it up and at once brought it to the level. But before he could touch his trigger, Willem’s roer delivered its loud report, and the thief fell forward on to the fire. Van Ormon’s brother, not heeding the fate of his companion, made some show of resistance; but this was instantly ended by a blow from the butt of Groot Willem’s gun, which he now held clenched in his hand. The third of the thieves did not stay for similar treatment, but bolted from the camp at a pace that would have left most horses behind him. The guns of all three were picked up, discharged, and then smashed against a tree. The giraffes were untied and taken up to the place where the horses had been left. After which, Willem and Hendrik mounted into their saddles, and, leading the camelopards behind them, commenced a backward march toward camp, where they had left their companions. The fate of the two men left by the fire remained from that moment unknown to our adventurers. Nor did they care to inquire about it. Before leaving the spot, it was seen that neither of them had received a mortal wound; and, as there was still one unharmed to take care of them, in all probability they recovered. That, at least, was the hope and belief of the hunters. <hr /></div> <div class="bodytext"> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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