Hunter Quatermains Story | Page 5

lady next Mr.
Quatermain, rather sharply.
"Believe me," answered the old hunter, with a quaint courtesy and a
little bow of his grizzled head; "though I have lived all my life in the
wilderness, and amongst savages, I have neither the heart, nor the want
of manners, to wish to deceive one so lovely."

Whereat the young lady, who was pretty, looked appeased.
"This is very dreadful," I broke in. "We ask for bread and you give us a
stone, Mr. Quatermain. The least that you can do is to tell us the story
of the tusks opposite and the buffalo horns underneath. We won't let
you off with less."
"I am but a poor story-teller," put in the old hunter, "but if you will
forgive my want of skill, I shall be happy to tell you, not the story of
the tusks, for that is part of the history of our journey to King
Solomon's Mines, but that of the buffalo horns beneath them, which is
now ten years old."
"Bravo, Quatermain!" said Sir Henry. "We shall all be delighted. Fire
away! Fill up your glass first."
The little man did as he was bid, took a sip of claret, and began:--
"About ten years ago I was hunting up in the far interior of Africa, at a
place called Gatgarra, not a great way from the Chobe River. I had with
me four native servants, namely, a driver and voorlooper, or leader,
who were natives of Matabeleland, a Hottentot named Hans, who had
once been the slave of a Transvaal Boer, and a Zulu hunter, who for
five years had accompanied me upon my trips, and whose name was
Mashune. Now near Gatgarra I found a fine piece of healthy, park-like
country, where the grass was very good, considering the time of year;
and here I made a little camp or head-quarter settlement, from whence I
went expeditions on all sides in search of game, especially elephant.
My luck, however, was bad; I got but little ivory. I was therefore very
glad when some natives brought me news that a large herd of elephants
were feeding in a valley about thirty miles away. At first I thought of
trekking down to the valley, waggon and all, but gave up the idea on
hearing that it was infested with the deadly 'tsetse' fly, which is certain
death to all animals, except men, donkeys, and wild game. So I
reluctantly determined to leave the waggon in the charge of the
Matabele leader and driver, and to start on a trip into the thorn country,
accompanied only by the Hottentot Hans, and Mashune.
"Accordingly on the following morning we started, and on the evening

of the next day reached the spot where the elephants were reported to
be. But here again we were met by ill luck. That the elephants had been
there was evident enough, for their spoor was plentiful, and so were
other traces of their presence in the shape of mimosa trees torn out of
the ground, and placed topsy-turvy on their flat crowns, in order to
enable the great beasts to feed on their sweet roots; but the elephants
themselves were conspicuous by their absence. They had elected to
move on. This being so, there was only one thing to do, and that was to
move after them, which we did, and a pretty hunt they led us. For a
fortnight or more we dodged about after those elephants, coming up
with them on two occasions, and a splendid herd they were-- only,
however, to lose them again. At length we came up with them a third
time, and I managed to shoot one bull, and then they started off again,
where it was useless to try and follow them. After this I gave it up in
disgust, and we made the best of our way back to the camp, not in the
sweetest of tempers, carrying the tusks of the elephant I had shot.

"It was on the afternoon of the fifth day of our tramp that we reached
the little koppie overlooking the spot where the waggon stood, and I
confess that I climbed it with a pleasurable sense of home-coming, for
his waggon is the hunter's home, as much as his house is that of the
civilized person. I reached the top of the koppie, and looked in the
direction where the friendly white tent of the waggon should be, but
there was no waggon, only a black burnt plain stretching away as far as
the eye could reach. I rubbed my eyes, looked again, and made out on
the spot of the camp, not my waggon, but some charred beams of wood.
Half wild with grief and anxiety, followed by Hans and Mashune, I