Child of Storm

He did not answer, but I believe the truth was that he had crept into

a large ant-bear's hole--small blame to him, to be frank. Then the

remainder of our party turned up one by one, some of them looking very

blown, as though they had run a long way. None were missing, except

those who had fired the reeds, and they thought it well to keep clear

for a good many hours. I believe that afterwards they regretted not

having taken a longer leave of absence; but when they finally did

arrive I was in no condition to note what passed between them and their

outraged chief.

Being collected, the question arose what we should do. Of course, I

wished to return to camp and get out of this ill-omened place as soon

as possible. But I had reckoned without the vanity of Umbezi. Umbezi

stretched over the edge of a sharp rock, whither he had been hoisted by

the nose of a buffalo, and imagining himself to be mortally wounded,

was one thing; but Umbezi in a borrowed moocha, although, because of

his bruises, he supported his person with one hand in front and with the

other behind, knowing his injuries to be purely superficial, was quite

another.

"I am a hunter," he said; "I am named 'Eater-up-of-Elephants';" and

he rolled his eyes, looking about for someone to contradict him, which

nobody did. Indeed, his "praiser," a thin, tired-looking person, whose

voice was worn out with his previous exertions, repeated in a feeble

way: "Yes, Black One, 'Eater-up-of-Elephants' is your name;

'Lifted-up-by-Buffalo' is your name."

"Be silent, idiot," roared Umbezi. "As I said, I am a hunter; I have

wounded the wild beast that subsequently dared to assault me. [As a

matter of fact, it was I, Allan Quatermain, who had wounded it.] I would

make it bite the dust, for it cannot be far away. Let us follow it."

He glared round him, whereon his obsequious people, or one of them,

echoed: "Yes, by all means let us follow it, 'Eater-up-of-Elephants.'

Macumazahn, the clever white man, will show us how, for where is the

buffalo that he fears!"

Of course, after this there was nothing else to be done, so, having

summoned the scratched Scowl, who seemed to have no heart in the

business, we started on the spoor of the herd, which was as easy to

track as a wagon road.

"Never mind, Baas," said Scowl, "they are two hours' march off by now."

"I hope so," I answered; but, as it happened, luck was against me, for

before we had covered half a mile some over-zealous fellow struck a

blood spoor.

I marched on that spoor for twenty minutes or so, till we came to a

patch of bush that sloped downwards to a river-bed. Right to this river

I followed it, till I reached the edge of a big pool that was still full

of water, although the river itself had gone dry. Here I stood looking

at the spoor and consulting with Saduko as to whether the beast could

have swum the pool, for the tracks that went to its very verge had

become confused and uncertain. Suddenly our doubts were ended, since

out of a patch of dense bush which we had passed--for it had played the

common trick of doubling back on its own spoor--appeared the buffalo, a

huge bull, that halted on three legs, my bullet having broken one of its

thighs. As to its identity there was no doubt, since on, or rather from,

its right horn, which was cleft apart at the top, hung the remains of

Umbezi's moocha.