There was little sleeping done in the camp that night. McCann kept his place behind the fore-chest, the Hottentots never showed themselves or made their whereabouts known, and the young hunter and his Kaffir interpreter stood guard, kept the fires blazing, and listened to the noise made by the animals that were constantly going to and from the fountain. There seemed to be no end to them.

If there were any faith to be placed in one's sense of hearing, Oscar had seen but a very small portion of the game that inhabited that section of the country. Sometimes the noise made by their hoofs continued for ten minutes at a time without the least interruption.

After the lions had finished their battle and quenched their thirst there was quiet for an hour, and then the other animals began coming in.

First came the small antelopes, then the larger ones, such as the wilde-beests, elands, and harte-beests; then the zebras, quaggas, and buffaloes; and if there had been an elephant or a rhinoceros in the neighborhood he would have come last.

The hour selected by the lion depends entirely upon circumstances. If the moon rises late he comes to the fountain soon after dark; and if it rises early he postpones his visit until near morning, unless he has had a hearty supper, and then he drinks whenever he happens to feel thirsty.

While Oscar was listening, and wishing it was daylight, so that he could see the immense herds that were constantly passing by within less than two hundred yards of his wagon, he was treated to another contest.

It did not frighten him as the first one did, for he knew that the animals which engaged in it were not much to be feared; still it made him nervous and timid, it was so wild and unearthly. It sounded, for all the world, as though a dozen or so demented persons were joining in a hearty laugh over something.

It was enough to try anyone's nerves, and it was no wonder that the terror-stricken after-rider drew himself into a smaller compass behind the fore-chest, and cried out that another such night would be the death of him.

"There's nothing to whine over," said Oscar. "A pack of laughing hyenas have found poor Major's body—that's all."

Major was the name of the mastiff that had been killed by the buffalo.

"Yes, and after they get through with him they may take it into their heads to see what there is under the wagon," replied McCann.

"Let them come," said Oscar. "These fires throw out a good deal of light, and I'll knock over the first one I can draw a bead on. But look here, Mack. You have heard all these sounds before, and how does it come that they have such an effect on you to-night? They scare you more than they do me."

"The reason is just this," answered McCann: "The trading expeditions I have accompanied through here have never consisted of less than four or five wagons, and sometimes we have had as many as twenty men with us. The lion will not bother such a crowd as that if he is left alone. If anything happens to-night there are only two of us to do the fighting."

"And who are they?" asked the young hunter.

"Why, you and me, of course. Who else is there? Big Thompson couldn't do anything with his little spears, even if he had the courage to face a lion; the Hottentots would take to the nearest trees, and——"

McCann paused, and Oscar finished the sentence for him by saying:

"You would climb to the top of the wagon, leaving me to get out of the scrape the best way I could."

Oscar put his feet upon the fore-chest, leaned back against the arches that supported the tent, and, although he did not expect to close his eyes in slumber, he was fast asleep in a very few minutes.

He awoke at daylight, and found his servants already astir. The Hottentots had turned up safe and sound, and were watering the stock at the fountain; the Kaffir was busy at one of the fires, cooking their breakfast and his own; and McCann, having dished up a frugal meal for his employer, was on the point of calling him, when Oscar stepped down from the dissel-boom, with a towel and a piece of soap in his hand.

The boy looked at his after-rider in great surprise. The exciting events of the night must have had a terrible effect upon his nerves, for he seemed to have grown ten years older since the sun went down. He was pale and haggard, his eyelids drooped, and he moved as though he had scarcely strength enough left to stand upon his feet.

"What's the matter, Mack?" asked Oscar cheerfully. "Did the concerts to which we listened last night scare all the life out of you?"

"Oh, no, sir!" replied the man, who was bolder now that it was daylight and the lions were gone. "I am going to have rheumatic fever, I am afraid."

"That's bad," said Oscar; but still there was not much sympathy in his tones. He shrewdly suspected that the only thing that troubled his after-rider was an utter lack of courage, and that he was feigning sickness for some purpose of his own. "Hadn't you better take something for it? You know where the medicine-chest is. I suppose you can't go with me to follow up the spoor of that buffalo Big Thompson wounded yesterday?"

"Indeed, I can't," replied McCann in a weak voice. "I couldn't sit in the saddle for half an hour to save my life. It will be no use for you to follow up the spoor, for you will find nothing but bones when you get to the end of it. The lions, hyenas, and jackals have made a meal of him before this time."

"I suppose they have; but we may find some beast which has not yet satisfied his appetite hanging around the carcass, you know," said Oscar as he kneeled on the ground and plunged his head into the water-bucket that served him as a wash-basin.

That was just what McCann was afraid of, and it was one reason why he did not want to go with his employer when the latter left the camp to follow up the spoor; but, of course, he did not say so.

"As soon as the cattle come up put the saddles on Little Gray and Leichtberg, and tell Thompson that I want him to go with me to act as trailer and after-rider," said Oscar, drawing his head out of the bucket long enough to take breath. "Tell him, also, to put ropes and collars on Ralph and Rover. We will take them with us and leave the rest of the pack in camp."

Leichtberg was the name of one of Oscar's new horses, and Ralph and Rover were the two deer-hounds which had been presented to him by Mr. Lawrence.

Oscar had noticed that these high-toned animals would not hunt well when in company with the other members of the pack, and he wanted to see what they could do by themselves.

"I want to get away from here as soon as I can, and consequently I must improve every hour. By this time next week we shall be fifty miles deeper in the wilderness," said Oscar as his head went down into the bucket again.

McCann, who was quite well enough to obey these orders, walked off toward the Kaffir's fire, muttering to himself:

"Here's one who won't be fifty miles deeper in the wilderness by a week from to-day. I don't think you will go any further, either; but if you do you will find me missing on the morning you get ready to start. Mind that!"

Big Thompson, whose courage was equal to McCann's cowardice, made all haste to carry out his employer's instructions, working to such good purpose that by the time Oscar had finished his breakfast the horses he had named were saddled and waiting, the two deer-hounds had been put in the leash, and the rest of the pack were tied under the wagon.

Having provided the Kaffir with one of his best rifles and a belt full of ammunition, Oscar armed and equipped himself and then mounted Little Gray.

"Now, Mack," said he, "as soon as you have eaten your breakfast set to work with the Hottentots and gather a good supply of firewood. Heap it up as high as the wagon if you want to, for what we don't burn to-night we can burn some other night, you know."

McCann promised obedience, and Oscar and the Kaffir rode away.

The man watched them as they passed the fountain and ascended the opposite bank of the water-course, and when they disappeared from his view he arose from the camp-chair in which he had been sitting, with his elbows on his knees and his chin resting on his hands.

He did not look or act much like a sick man now. His step was light and quick, his eyes were wide open, and there was a smile of triumph on his face.

"I've had about enough of this," said he as he placed his foot on the dissel-boom. "I ought never to have come out here with that boy, for I ought to have known that he hadn't sense enough to keep him out of trouble. I never would have come with him, either, if I had had any idea that he had so much determination. I was sure I could frighten him and make him turn back; but since I can't do that I can do the next best thing."

McCann climbed into the wagon and began rummaging about in the hanging pockets.

The first contained towels, soap, a brush and comb, and other toilet articles; but they were not the things McCann wanted to find. Neither did he take two looks at the writing materials in the second, or the old newspapers in the third; but when he came to the fourth he uttered an exclamation, indicative of the greatest satisfaction.

Plunging his hand into it, he drew out a large brown envelope, which he had seen so often that he recognized it at once as the article he was in search of.

He opened it and took out a folded paper, on which was traced, in inks of different colors, a neat and comprehensive map of the country beyond Zurnst.

The red line showed the route Mr. Lawrence had pursued when he was on his last hunting expedition, the blue pointed out the position of the mountains on each side of the track, and the black dots indicated where the best water and camping grounds were to be found.

"This thing has stood in my way long enough," said McCann as he replaced the map and deliberately tore it and the envelope into four pieces. "If he hadn't had this in his possession I could have lost him on the plain and made him turn back before he had left Zurnst a week's journey behind him; but every time I tried to draw him out of his course this map always set him right. He'll not consult it any more, I bet you! He'll miss it, of course, but he'll think he lost it somewhere along the route. I shall see home again in less than two months, and then Mr. Preston will fork over the balance of my twenty-five pounds, or I'll have him up before a magistrate."

Talking in this way to himself, McCann got out of the wagon, and walking up to the nearest fire threw the map into the flames; and then, without waiting to see what became of it, he took possession of his employer's chair and proceeded to eat a hearty breakfast.

It might have interested him somewhat to know that, of the four pieces into which he had torn the map, only three were consumed, the other being caught by the wind just as it was about to drop into the coals, and carried out into the grove.

It remained there a day or so, moving about from point to point under the influence of every little breeze that struck it, and finally it was blown out upon the plain, from which it returned most unexpectedly to confront McCann with proofs of his guilt.