I Felt It Sinking, But The Horse Sprang
Forward And Saved Himself, As I Heard The Mass Fall Beneath.
* On the following morning the camel was safely
floated across the river, supported by the inflated
skins of the mehedehets.
That night we received a very audacious visit. I was asleep in my
tent, when I was suddenly awakened by a slight pull at my sleeve,
which was the signal always given by my wife if anything was
wrong; on such occasions, I never replied until I had gently
grasped my little Fletcher, which always slept with me beneath my
mat. She now whispered that a hyaena had been within the tent,
but that it had just bolted out, as these animals are so wary
that they detect the slightest movement or noise. As a rule, I
never shot at hyaenas, but, as I feared it might eat our saddles,
I lay in bed with the rifle to my shoulder, pointed towards the
tent door through which the moon was shining brightly. In a few
minutes, a grey-looking object stood like an apparition at the
entrance, peering into the tent to see if all were right before
it entered. I touched the trigger, and the hyaena fell dead, with
the bullet through its head. This was a regular veteran, as his
body was covered with old scars from continual conflicts with
other hyaenas. This was the first time that one of these animals
had taken such a liberty; they were generally contented with
eating the bones that were left from our dinner outside the tent
door, which they cleared away regularly every night.
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