raucous, agonised bellow.

"Oh, well done! well done!" cried Evelyn, clapping her hands and
springing forward.

"Keep back--keep back," warned Edala, restraining her. "Didn't I tell
you they could be dangerous? And this one has a kick left in him yet."

He certainly had, for although the charge had crippled him it had been
planted rather far back, and now the buck rose on his forelegs, still
bellowing savagely and shaking his needle pointed horns.

"I'll give him another shot," said Edala. "Wait now."

But before she had quite got her aim on, the dogs rushed out of the bush
and flung themselves open-mouthed on the wounded quarry. Snarling and
leaping, they avoided the formidable horns, and, making their attack
carefully from the rear, in a moment had pulled down the stricken
animal, not, however, before one of them had received an ugly gash along
the ribs.

"Well done, little one," sang out Thornhill, who was coming down the
slope towards them. "You've opened the day well, anyhow. What do you
think, Evelyn?"

"Oh, it was splendid. But I don't know. It's a little different to
pheasant shooting," she added, with a look at the copious effusion of
blood, which the dogs were eagerly lapping.

"Yes, of course. Oh well, you needn't look at this part of it,"--as
Manamandhla, who had come up, was setting to work on the butchering side
of the sport. "We'll drive on now and give those other two chaps a
show. By the way, I got another up there. It was only a half grown
ram, and rather far, so I downed him with a bullet."

"Come on, Evelyn. We'll help drive," cried Edala.

"No--no," struck in her father. "You girls would get torn to pieces
down there, with your skirts. You go along outside where the bush ends.
Very likely something'll jump out there."

But nothing did. They heard the sudden clamour raised by the dogs in
full cry, and could mark the course of the quarry by the tremble of the
bush fronds as it crashed through--then, far down the kloof, a shot rang
out from where Prior was posted. Suddenly there was a strange squawking
call, and two large reddish birds rose into the air.

"Vaal koorhaan, by Jingo!" ejaculated Edala, reining in her mount. It
was an old shooting pony and stood like a stone. Up went her gun--and
with the report one of the birds swerved violently while a cloud of
feathers puffed from its side; then it fell heavily to the ground. Its
mate still uttering the same squawking c