ular legs, they were enabled to deliver with considerable
force.

Swartboy knew that when they were well into the fight, he might stalk in
upon them unobserved; so he waited patiently, till the proper moment
should arrive.

In a few seconds it became evident, he would not have to move from his
ambush; for the birds were fighting towards him. He adjusted his arrow
to the string, and waited.

In five minutes the birds were fighting within thirty yards of the spot
where the Bushman lay. The twang of a bowstring might have been heard
by one of the koris, had he been listening. The other could not
possibly have heard it; for before the sound could have reached him, a
poisoned arrow was sticking through his ears. The barb had passed
through, and the shaft remained in his head, piercing it crosswise!

Of course the bird dropped dead upon the grass, less astonished than his
antagonist.

The latter at first imagined _he_ had done it, and began to strut very
triumphantly around his fallen foe.

But his eye now fell upon the arrow sticking through the head of the
latter. He knew nothing about that. _He_ had not done _that_! What
the deuce--

Perhaps if he had been allowed another moment's reflection, he would
have taken to his heels; but before he could make up his mind about the
matter, there was another "twang" of the bowstring, another arrow
whistled through the air, and another kori lay stretched upon the grass.

Swartboy now rushed forward, and took possession of the game; which
proved to be a pair of young cocks, in prime condition for roasting.

Having hung the birds over a high branch, so as to secure them from
jackals and hyenas, the hunters continued on; and shortly after, having
re-entered the channel of the stream, continued to follow it downward.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT.

UPON THE "SPOOR."

They had not gone above an hundred yards farther, when they came to one
of the pools, already spoken of. It was a tolerably large one; and the
mud around its edges bore the hoof-prints of numerous animals. This the
hunters saw from a distance, but on reaching the spot, Swartboy a little
in the advance, turned suddenly round, and, with rolling orbs and
quivering lips, clicked out the words,--

"Mein baas! mein baas! da klow! spoor ob da groot olifant!"

There was no danger of mistaking the spoor of the elephant for that of
any other creature. There, sure enough, were the great round tracks--
full twenty