its footprints were lost in a broad trail made by
thousands of animals on their way to and from the river.

Both Coffee and Chicory exerted themselves to the utmost; but their
efforts were in vain, and at last they turned to Dick shaking their
heads.

"No good gun," said Coffee. "Ought to shoot um dead."

"It's a bad job," said Jack; "but it's of no use to grumble. Come,
boys, we must hunt out something else."

"I wish we had brought the dogs, Jack," said Dick.

"Coffee find him soon--that way."

He pointed with an exultant look in his face at a great flap-winged
vulture flying directly over his head, and for a moment both Jack and
Dick were puzzled; but seeing the boys both set off at a run, they
followed, recalling as they went what they had seen and heard about the
vultures tracking the wounded or sickly game, and it was evident that
the bird they had seen was on the track of the wounded eland.

An hour's tramp decided the point, Coffee and Chicory coming up with the
wounded beast, defending itself with its horns against the attacks of
the vultures that were collecting round and making furious darts at its
eyes.

A merciful bullet ended the poor creature's miseries, and as the animal
was so fine it was decided to load up with as much as they could
conveniently carry, then place sticks about the carcase, and leave it to
be fetched in by Peter and Dirk with a yoke of oxen.

All this was done, and they were about half-way back when, to their
utter astonishment, a party of about half-a-dozen blacks, armed with
assegais and clubs, rushed out from behind some bushes, and began to
advance with fierce and threatening gestures.

"I say, Dick, what's to be done?" said Jack. "Shall we throw down the
meat and run away?"

"No," said Dick, who looked very pale.

"Shall we offer them our guns and ammunition if they will let us go?"

"No," replied Dick. "If we do that they will strip us to the skin."

"What shall we do then?"

"Show fight," said Dick. "I don't want to, but we must."

"But they are big fighting men, and we are only boys," said Jack.

"But we are English boys, and they are only savages," retorted Dick; "so
come along."

Meanwhile the Matabele warriors--for such it afterwards proved they
were--kept on advancing, shouting savagely, while Coffee and Chicory had
been watching their masters attentively, waiting to see what course they
would take.

They took their dues from the behaviour of the