Adventure stories; Gold -- Juvenile fiction; South Africa -- Juvenile fiction; Young men -- Fiction
They had various bird-shooting excursions, riding out with a couple of
pointers, and, so soon as the dogs stood to game, dismounting from their
ponies and walking into their shots. In this way they made some pretty
bags of Coqui and red-wing francolin, koorhaan, and guinea-fowl. One or
two adventures befell Guy at this period. One day they had sallied out
to hunt a troop of hartebeest, which ran on a distant part of the farm.
After finding the troop in some prettily-timbered country, well covered
with giraffe-acacia, the three had become separated, Guy galloping mile
after mile in pursuit of a good bull which he had wounded. The
hartebeest, turning out of the troop and quitting the wooded glades in
which the herd had been discovered, took away over the open plains. Guy
was well mounted, and for a long seven miles pushed after the big
red-brown antelope, which swept away in front of him with a free,
machine-like action that, despite its wound--a bullet through the middle
of the body--showed no symptom of tiring. At length the hartebeest
climbed the ridge of a wave in the grass plain, and disappeared. Guy’s
pony, good and willing as he was, was now tiring visibly. The lad
doubted whether he could gallop much farther--the pace had been too
great--and the game looked like getting clean away. It was too annoying.
They reached the top of the ridge, and looked over. Nothing living was
to be seen; the plain was untenanted. Apparently the antelope had
vanished into thin air. But Guy’s keen eye noted, half a mile or so to
the right, a widish patch of vaal bush. Towards this he now rode. He
approached within thirty yards, and dismounted. Just as he did so, the
wounded antelope rose slowly to its feet from within the shelter of the
bush, and essayed to canter off. Too late! The gallant beast had made
its last effort and taken its final gallop. Guy’s rifle went up, and as
the antelope slowly moved away, another bullet from the Mannlicher
pierced its heart. It tumbled suddenly to the veldt, and after a brief
kick or two lay dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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