domesticated easily enough; but they are not favourite pets
with the farmer, who dreads their communicating to his cattle a fatal
skin-disease to which the gnoos are subject, and which carries off
thousands of them every year.

Of course Von Bloom and his companions did not stay to talk over these
points. They were too anxious about the fate of the missing Hans, to
think of anything else.

They were about to start out in search of him, when just at that moment
my gentleman was seen coming around the end of the lake, trudging very
slowly along, under the weight of some large and heavy object, that he
carried upon his shoulders.

A shout of joy was raised, and in a few moments Hans stood in their
midst.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE.

THE ANT-EATER OF AFRICA.

Hans was saluted by a volley of questions, "Where have you been? What
detained you? What has happened to you? You're all safe and sound?
Not hurt, I hope?" These and a few others were asked in a breath.

"I'm sound as a bell," said Hans; "and for the rest of your inquiries
I'll answer them all as soon as Swartboy has skinned this `aard-vark,'
and Totty has cooked a piece of it for supper; but I'm too hungry to
talk now, so pray excuse me."

As Hans gave this reply, he cast from his shoulders an animal nearly as
big as a sheep, covered with long bristly hair of a reddish-grey colour,
and having a huge tail, thick at the root, and tapering like a carrot; a
snout nearly a foot long, but quite slender and naked; a very small
mouth; erect pointed ears resembling a pair of horns; a low flattish
body; short muscular legs; and claws of immense length, especially on
the fore-feet, where, instead of spreading out, they were doubled back
like shut fists, or the fore hands of a monkey. Altogether a very odd
animal was that which Hans had styled an "aard-vark," and which he
desired should be cooked for supper.

"Well, my boy," replied Von Bloom, "we'll excuse you, the more so that
we are all of us about as hungry as yourself, I fancy. But I think we
may as well leave the `aard-vark' for to-morrow's dinner. We've a
couple of peacocks here, and Totty will get one of them ready sooner
than the aard-vark."

"As for that," rejoined Hans, "I don't care which. I'm just in the
condition to eat anything--even a steak of tough old quagga, if I had
it; but I think it would be no harm if Swartboy--that is, if you're not
too tired, old Swart--would just peel the skin off thi