ceased to
live.

She would have fled, but she could not leave him--she could not bear to
part even from his lifeless form. She would remain a while, and mourn
over him.

Her widowhood was a short one. Again flashed the priming,--again cracked
the shining tube--and the sorrowing doe fell over upon the body of her
mate.

The young hunter rose to his feet, and ran forward. He did not,
according to usual custom, stop to load before approaching his quarry.
The plain was perfectly level, and he saw no other animal upon it. What
was his surprise on reaching the antelopes, to perceive that there was a
third one of the party still alive!

Yes, a little fawn, not taller than a rabbit, was bounding about through
the grass, running around the prostrate body of its mother, and uttering
its tiny bleat.

Hendrik was surprised, because he had not observed this creature before;
but, indeed, he had not seen much of the antelopes until the moment of
taking aim, and the grass had concealed the tiny young one.

Hunter as Hendrik was, he could not help feeling strongly as he regarded
the _tableau_ before him. But he felt that he had not wantonly destroyed
these creatures for mere amusement, and that satisfied his conscience.

The little fawn would make a famous pet for Jan, who had often wished
for one, to be equal with his sister. It could be fed upon the cow's
milk, and, though it had lost both father and mother, Hendrik resolved
that it should be carefully brought up. He had no difficulty in
capturing it, as it refused to leave the spot where its mother lay, and
Hendrik soon held the gentle creature in his arms.

He then tied the buck and doe together; and, having fastened a strong
cord round the horns of the latter, he set off dragging the two
antelopes behind him.

As these lay upon the ground, heads foremost, they were drawn with the
grain of the hair, which made it much easier; and as there was nothing
but grass sward to be passed over, the young hunter succeeded in taking
the whole of his game to camp without any great difficulty.

The joy of all was great, at seeing such a fine lot of venison, but
Jan's rejoicing was greater than all; and he no longer envied Trueey the
possession of her little gazelle.

CHAPTER XXIII.

LITTLE JAN'S ADVENTURE.

It would have been better that Jan had never seen the little
"ourebi,"--better both for Jan and the antelope, for that night the
innocent creature was the cause of a