VENATORIAL.

“Father, I think we must take out Evelyn and show her how we shoot bushbucks.”

Thus Edala, one lovely morning at breakfast time.

“I don’t mind. What do you say, Evelyn?”

“That it would be delightful. But shouldn’t I be in your way?”

“Not if you keep quiet, and do as you are told,” said Edala. “Oh, and by the way, don’t wear any colours. It’s astonishing how you miss chances that way.”

“What have I got? Oh I know. I’ve got an old khaki coloured dress. At the time of the Boer war, you know, some of us took on a fit of idiocy in the way of khaki fever. It didn’t last, of course, but I brought the thing out here with me under a sort of vague impression it might be useful in the veldt for knocking-about purposes.”

“The very thing,” cried Edala. “Now go and put it on, and I’ll get into my `Robin Hood’ outfit. Father, you see about the horses.”

“Anything else?”

“Yes and the guns.”

“But but,” protested the visitor, “I’ve never fired a gun in my life.”

“You’ll soon learn,” returned Edala, tranquilly. “To-day, though, you need only look on.”

“What an Amazon the child is,” laughed Evelyn. “Why I should never learn. I’m much too nervous. Guns kick and all that sort of thing, don’t they?”

“Not if you hold them properly. But, that’s where the `learning’ part of it comes in. Well, let’s go and get our toggery on.”

Thornhill did not immediately set to work to make arrangements for the coming sport, instead he lit a pipe and sat thinking. Evelyn Carden had been a guest under his roof for nearly three weeks now, and he was ready to own that she had proved a very great acquisition indeed. She had adapted herself so wholeheartedly to their way of life, and she and Edala had taken to each other wonderfully. It was good for Edala to have the companionship of someone approximately near her own age; the difficulty hitherto had been to obtain such companionship for her. And as regarded himself, why her demeanour was perfection. She could talk brilliantly and well upon all his favourite topics, without ever becoming contradictious or argumentative, as is the way of her sex. She forestalled his every want, yet in such a tactful unobtrusive way; and while perfectly frank and unconstrained, she always managed to bring into her intercourse with him just that little scarcely perceptible touch of deference which the difference between their ages rendered so charming. It had more than once occurred to him that Edala might become jealous, but with a certain grim sadness he had recognised that it might not be altogether a bad thing if Edala did.

Now the said Edala reappeared, clad in what she termed her `Robin Hood suit,’ which by the way did not denote `bloomers’ or any such atrocity, but was merely an exceedingly workman-like blouse and skirt of sage green, an excellent hue for blending with the prevailing tints of the surrounding bush country. Her golden head was crowned by a soft felt hat, without any adornment whatever.

“Father!” she cried, “you haven’t done anything towards getting up the horses, or getting things ready. And we are ready.”

“I don’t see `we’ all the same,” he laughed. “I only see one. And the day has hardly begun. Hullo! What’s all that about?”

`That’ was represented by an abominable and riotous clamour suddenly raised by the dogs, who were lying outside. They had sprung up and were pouring forth hideous defiance to the world at large. Quickly each had seized the binoculars lying always handy for the scrutiny of new arrivals or passers-by in the distance and were out on the stoep.

“Why it’s Elvesdon and Prior,” said Thornhill, lowering the glasses. “And they’ve both brought guns. You didn’t send word, did you, that you were plotting this hunt?”

“No, and it’s a beastly bore they’ve turned up just now,” she answered pettishly. “Now I can’t take my gun.”

“Why not?”

“You know I never shoot when there’s a crowd.”

“Oh well. We know Elvesdon well enough by this time, and Prior’s only a young ’un. I wouldn’t let that count.”

Edala did not want much persuading.

“We had better make a whole day of it then,” she said. “I’ll tell Ramasam to put up lunch, and it had better be taken down to Bees’ Nest Kloof by one o’clock.”

“All right, dear. Do that,” said Thornhill rising.

By this time the new arrivals were riding up to the open space in front of the stables; the dogs squirming and leaping around them and uttering a perfectly frantic clamour. But it was an amicable riot this time, for the guns carried by the two officials told those intelligent quadrupeds that sport was afoot, wherefore they were simply beside themselves with delight.

“Well, Elvesdon, how are you how are you. Prior?” said Thornhill, meeting the pair as they dismounted. “Why this is a case of the veriest telepathy. Edala had just suggested we should show Miss Carden some sport in the kloofs, and here you turn up, just in the very nick of time.”

“That so?” laughed Elvesdon. “Well, there was nothing particular doing to-day, so this fellow here suggested we should invade you with an eye to a buck or two.”

“Glad of it. Come on in. Had breakfast?”

“Oh yes, before we left.”

“Well, you’d better off-saddle for half an hour. We’re not quite ready ourselves.”

Then the two girls came out. If Elvesdon, who was a sportsman to the finger tips, had any misgiving that under the circumstances of two women in the field the bag was likely to prove nothing very great, he decided in his own mind, as he shook hands with Edala, that there were compensations. The very plainness of her attire, the slight flush of expectation in the flower-like face, the eager light in the clear blue eyes, rendered the girl, in his sight, inexpressibly sweet and winning. He thought he would contrive to keep her near him throughout the day, even to the sacrifice, if need be, of his own share of the sport; which, upon those terms, would be no sacrifice at all.

“And you, Miss Carden, are you a Diana too?” he laughed.

“No, no. I’m only going as a spectator.”

“This little girl was shy about taking out a gun when she saw you coming,” said Thornhill, dropping a hand on to Edala’s shoulder. “I told her you wouldn’t be hard on her if she misses.”

“Er I’m sure Miss Thornhill never misses,” blurted out Prior, immediately thinking himself an ass, an opinion in which Edala at the moment freely shared.

“Well come on in, and have something after your ride,” said Thornhill, as a couple of boys came up to take the horses.

They were all very jolly and merry, chatting and making plans for the day. Suddenly a tall figure appeared at the foot of the steps of the stoep. The sight of it brought a queer look, though a momentary one to Elvesdon’s face.

“Oh, you’ve still got that chap, Thornhill,” he said carelessly.

“Yes. I find him useful, and at times, rather interesting. I’ll just go out and see what he wants.”

What Manamandhla wanted was this. The Amakosi, he perceived, were about to have a hunt. Might not he come too, and help drive out the bush? He loved to see a hunt, and could make himself of use.

Thornhill’s thoughts on hearing this request were known to himself and his Maker incidentally, they may have been more than guessed at by the Zulu as he answered equably that the other could do so if he wished. He was thinking how easy it was to mistake a man for a buck in thick bush and that a charge of Treble A at close quarters And the laughter and joking of those within came loud through the open windows; for tragedy and mirth, are they not always more or less closely allied, and running on parallel rails?

“I say, Miss Thornhill, do let me carry your gun for you,” said Prior, eagerly, as he ranged his horse alongside. This was a new experience to him. He had never seen a girl taking part in a hunt before, though of course he had heard of this one doing so.

“Thanks, Mr Prior, but there’s no necessity. Would you like to hold it for me while I shoot? I am even capable of turning a door-handle for myself at a pinch.”

Elvesdon smiled, and Thornhill chuckled. Evelyn Carden did neither. She was fond of being waltzed around, and generally thurificated.

Poor Prior dropped back snubbed. Five was an awkward number and the track was narrow. He remembered too that he had come very near `riding out’ his chief. But the latter seemed not in any way perturbed.

Down the valley their way ran. At length they came to a neck, overlooking a downward sweep of dense bush, intersected by a dry watercourse. The dogs, all of a quiver with suppressed excitement, squirmed and whined, yet ever in wholesome dread of their master’s whip. Thornhill proceeded to dispose the guns.

“Elvesdon, you go to the very bottom of the kloof see, where those two tree ferns stand,” pointing out a spot about three quarters of a mile away. “Prior, you take the other side, and both of you stand about seventy yards from the sluit, and keep well up on the rise till you get to your places. Edala, you take Evelyn with you. The usual place, you know by the red slab. There ought to be enough to keep all hands lively to-day, we haven’t hunted this kloof for half a year. I’ll drive down, with Manamandhla and Mlamvu. Give you all twenty minutes before we start,” getting out his watch.

“Right,” cried Elvesdon. “Come along, Prior.”

Their way lay together up to a certain point. Then Edala and Evelyn plunged down through a straggling, gappy opening between the thicker recesses of the bush.

“This looks as if it was going to be exciting,” said the latter, none too much at her ease among this kind of rather rough riding.

“By Jove, and it is,” returned Edala, who in moments of animation was apt to be unconventional in her speech. “We’ll leave the horses here,” she went on, sliding from her saddle, and giving her companion who although a good `seat’ in the Row, was not quite so ready at getting on and off as one who scarcely remembered when she could not ride a helping hand to doing likewise.

“Now, come along,” she said, starting downwards among the loose stones, yet hardly disturbing one of them, “and don’t make any more row than you can help.”

A very few minutes of this descent brought them to a place where the bush forked away into a comparatively open space. Below, the dry watercourse ran, some sixty yards distant. About half that distance a low, broad, flat rock of a reddish tint lay like a huge table.

“You always get a shot here,” whispered Edala. “The bucks always scoot along the same track, just the other side of the red slab. I pull off on them at five yards this side of it, then, if I miss, I get them with the second barrel when they show up beyond it.”

“Shall we shall you get a chance to-day?” whispered the other, who had caught her companion’s excitement.

“Rather. You’ll see. But get back a little more. You’re showing too much. An old bushbuck ram is no end of a slim beast. The least sight of you, and he’ll double back. Ah! Now they’re starting.”

“Are these bucks dangerous?” asked Evelyn, her excitement for the moment somewhat clouded by the feminine instinct of scare. It would have been different, of course, had she been beside one of the men her host or Elvesdon for instance but when her only bulwark was merely another girl, why the thing seemed to take on a different aspect.

“Dangerous? Good Lord, no. But a wounded ram, who’s still got the use of his legs, well it doesn’t do to go up to him. They’ve got beastly horns, and I’ve twice seen a dog stuck through and through.”

The English-bred girl looked at the Colonial one, with some curiosity, a touch of increased respect and a great deal of admiration. The flush of excitement which had come into Edala’s cheeks, the sparkle in her fearless blue eyes, rendered the face surpassingly beautiful.

“Oh, I’m not afraid with you, dear,” rejoined Evelyn. “Only you must bear with an ignoramus.”

“Ssh!” said Edala, holding up a hand. “No more talking now.”