They then returned warily to the--not
attack--reconnaissance. This trait showed touching faith, and was a real
compliment to the marksmanship of their masters. Some day it will be
misplaced. A little cautious scouting on their part located the wounded
beast; whereupon, at a respectful distance, they lifted their voices. As
a large element of danger in case of a wounded lion is the uncertainty
as to his whereabouts, it will be seen that the dogs were very valuable
indeed. They seemed to know exactly how badly hit any animal might
happen to be, and to gauge their distance accordingly, until at last,
when the quarry was hammered to harmlessness, they closed in and began
to worry the nearly lifeless carcass. By this policy the dogs had a lot
of fun hunting on their own hook, preserved their lives from otherwise
inevitable extinction, and were of great assistance in saving their
masters' skins.
One member of the pack, perhaps two, were, however, rather pathetic
figures. I refer to the setters, Wayward and Girlie. Ranger, Ruby, Ben,
and Nero scampered merrily over the landscape after anything that
stirred, from field mice to serval cats. All was game to their catholic
tastes; and you may be sure, in a country like Africa, they had few dull
moments. But Wayward and Girlie had been brought up in a more exclusive
manner. Their early instincts had been supplemented by a rigorous early
training.
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