not hesitate. As the
little party filed off, one of the peons shouted, 'A good night, _macho_!
We'll wait for you at La Vergen!'--the first halting-place on the descent.
A pleasant beginning!

The shelter they sought lay some miles back. There is plenty of game on
these unpeopled uplands, if a man knows how to find it, and a hunter had
built himself this cabin in the woods. They reached it as darkness was
setting in--a hut as rough as could be, standing on the edge of a small
savannah. At the same moment the owner returned, with a deer tied on the
back of a small but very pretty ox. He might well be surprised, but
hospitality is a thing of course in those parts. Kindness to animals is
not, however--much the contrary--and Oversluys observed with pleasure how
carefully the little ox was treated. Children came running from the hut,
and, after staring in dumb amaze for a while at the strangers, took the
animal and actually groomed it in a rough way.

After supper--of venison steaks--Oversluys alluded to this extraordinary
proceeding. The guide said, 'Our friend Pablo may well take care of his
ox. There's not such another for hunting on the countryside.' And Pablo
grunted acquiescence.

'For hunting?' asked Oversluys.

'Yes. You should see him when he catches sight of deer. Tell the
gentleman, Pablo.'

Upon this theme the hunter was talkative, and he reported such instances
of sagacity that Oversluys--remembering those ruffians who awaited him at
La Vergen--asked whether there was any chance to see the ox at work? Pablo
meant to have another stalk at dawn, with the hope of carrying two deer to
market, and willingly he agreed to take his guest. So they started before
daylight.

It was no long journey to the hunting-ground. These high lands are mostly
savannah, with belts of dense forest between. Oversluys had heard deer
belling incessantly all night. After carefully studying the wind Pablo
chose the direction of the hunt. He had cut tracks to each point of the
compass, and he took that which would bring him to the edge of the first
clearing with the wind in his face.

It was just light enough when they arrived to see half a dozen dark forms
above the misty grass. Forthwith Pablo crept out from the trees, walking
backwards, his left arm round the ox's neck, and his stooped body behind
its shoulder. Thus he could see nothing. It was unnecessary. The ox
marched on, its broadside towards the deer, very softly, but always