The herd disappeared in the twinkling of an eye; one
male antelope only, that was hit just behind the
shoulder-joint, fell headlong to the ground, and
Kennedy leaped toward his booty.
It was a blauwbok, a superb animal of a pale-bluish
color shading upon the gray, but with the belly and the
inside of the legs as white as the driven snow.
"A splendid shot!" exclaimed the hunter. "It's a very
rare species of the antelope, and I hope to be able to
prepare his skin in such a way as to keep it."
"Indeed!" said Joe, "do you think of doing that, Mr. Kennedy?"
"Why, certainly I do! Just see what a fine hide it is!"
"But Dr. Ferguson will never allow us to take such an
extra weight!"
"You're right, Joe. Still it is a pity to have to leave
such a noble animal."
"The whole of it? Oh, we won't do that, sir; we'll
take all the good eatable parts of it, and, if you'll let me,
I'll cut him up just as well as the chairman of the honorable
corporation of butchers of the city of London could do."
"As you please, my boy! But you know that in my hunter's way
I can just as easily skin and cut up a piece of game as kill it."
"I'm sure of that, Mr. Kennedy. Well, then, you can
build a fireplace with a few stones; there's plenty of dry
dead-wood, and I can make the hot coals tell in a few
minutes.
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