eaped
violently. He was on the point of charging when a doubt assailed him.
The creature before him, though scarce distinguishable from the
surrounding gloom, was not long-bodied like an ox. He could perceive
that clearly. It was tall like a man--very tall. Perhaps it was Mark
Breezy? The recent mistake made him think anything possible!

"Is dat you, massa?" he whispered, in anxious alarm.

A furious bellow was the reply, followed by a still more furious charge.
Ebony had forgotten that an ox "end on" and head up is tall and not
long!

Happily, in stepping back he tripped, and the animal went right over
him. But the alarm had been given, and a sudden thundering of feet told
that the entire herd had taken to flight, while the shouting and cries
of the hunters, added to the confused roaring, showed that there was now
no need for concealment.

When the muster-roll was called it was found that nobody was missing or
hurt, though several had to tell of narrow escapes, especially John
Hockins, whose account of Ebony's exploit formed, at the feast that
followed, subject of interesting converse and much comment during the
brief intervals of relaxation between beef-steaks and marrow-bones.

Daylight revealed the fact that somewhere between thirty and forty
animals had been killed outright, besides a dozen or so which, having
been fatally wounded, were afterwards followed up and some of them
secured.

But daylight also brought a large party of men from a distant village
with a pressing invitation to Voalavo and his men to pay them a visit,
and a possibly disinterested offer to assist him in the consumption of
the cattle which he had slain; for it chanced that several young men of
this village were encamped in the woods that night near the spot where
the hunters attacked the cattle. Knowing full well what was being done,
these youths hurried home to tell what was going on. The head-man of
the village was on good terms with Voalavo at the time, besides being a
distant relative. Hence the message and the invitation.

As our happy-go-lucky chief was out in what may be termed a larky state
of mind, and had nothing particular to do, he accepted the invitation.
The meat was slung to bamboo poles, hoisted on the shoulders of his men,
and away they went over the plains to pay this visit. Happily the
village lay on the way to the capital, so that the guide and his party
could still accompany them without losing ground.