Trueey ran down the rounds,
and out to meet them. There was that in their glances that bespoke ill
tidings, and their words soon confirmed this conjecture.

Hans was not there--he had gone away hours ago--they knew not where,
they feared something had happened to him,--they feared he was lost!

"But what took him away from the camp?" asked Von Bloom, surprised and
troubled at the news.

That, and only that could they answer. A number of odd-looking
animals--very odd-looking, the children said,--had come to the vley to
drink. Hans had taken his gun and followed them in a great hurry,
telling Trueey and Jan to keep in the tree, and not come down until he
returned. He would be gone only a very little while, and they needn't
fear.

This was all they knew. They could not even tell what direction he had
taken. He went by the lower end of the vley; but soon the bushes hid him
from their view, and they saw no more of him.

"At what time was it?"

It was many hours ago,--in the morning in fact,--not long after the
hunters themselves had started. When he did not return the children grew
uneasy; but they thought he had fallen in with papa and Hendrik, and was
helping them to hunt; and that was the reason why he stayed so long.

"Had they heard any report of a gun?"

No--they had listened for that, but heard none. The animals had gone
away before Hans could get his gun ready; and they supposed he had to
follow some distance, before he could overtake them--that might be the
reason they had heard no shot.

"What sort of animals were they?"

They had all seen them plain enough, as they drank. They had never seen
any of the kind before. They were large animals of a yellow-brown
colour, with shaggy manes, and long tufts of hair growing out of their
breasts, and hanging down between their fore-legs. They were as big as
ponies, said Jan, and very like ponies. They curvetted and capered about
just as ponies do sometimes. Trueey thought that they looked more like
lions!

"Lions!" ejaculated her father and Hendrik, with an accent that
betokened alarm.

Indeed, they reminded her of lions, Trueey again affirmed, and Totty said
the same.

"How many were there of them?"

"Oh! a great drove, not less than fifty." They could not have counted
them, as they were constantly in motion, galloping from place to place,
and butting each other with their horns.

"Ha! they had horns then?" interrogated Von Bloom, relieved by this
annou