Chapter Eight.

Chapter Eight.The Bivouac—Hotman’s story—Terrible misfortune—Both sides of the story—How to find water—Kemp’s story—Death of Mabili—Single Elephants to be avoided—Hendrick and the Leopard—A struggle for life—A weary night—A poisonous companion—The rescue—Savage hermits—The “Trek-boken.”One evening the Boers wished me to tell them something about England, but by a little tact I changed the subject to their own adventures, and at length persuaded one of these men to relate what had happened to himself. I listened to his words with great interest, for the locality was good for a tale of thrilling adventure. The only noises that disturbed the stillness of the silvery moonlight night, were the language of the Kaffirs, with its low harmonious expressions, the crackling of the bivouac-fire as fresh fuel was added, and the distant shriek of the jackal, and laugh of the hyaena, which seemed in this demon-like language to hold communion with the restless spirits who dwelt in the wild regions around us.“Water is a fine thing, and none know its value who have not suffered for want of it,” said Hotman, one of our party.“Tell us your story about the elephants,” asked another.“I was shooting,” said Hotman, “some years back near the Pongola, and had had very good sport; the season was very dry, and we had been for two days with very little water, and that was rather brackish. The vlei being nearly exhausted, and the oxen having sore feet, I determined to go out and have a look for some water, and if I found any, to lead the waggons to it at once. I climbed up a tree near the outspan, and thought that I saw a line of bushes some distance off that showed like the presence of water. Taking with me Karl, a Hottentot,—who was worth his weight in gold, spoored and rode well, a steady hand with elephants, and seldom got drunk or told lies, all great recommendations for a Totty,—we started away to the bushy place which I had seen, leaving my other Hottentot and three Kaffirs with the waggons.“All my horses had died of the sickness, and several of the oxen were very bad with the same disease. I gave directions that my Kaffirs were not to leave the waggons until I returned, as elephants were near them, and I wished them to keep a fire burning night and day, as a protection. Enough water was in the vlei to last two or three days, with care. We had scooped out a hole, and to obtain water, dipped the small tin cans in it till we got a pailful, which we gave then to the oxen. I had ordered the Kaffirs to drive the oxen far away, and to make them fast when they came near, so that the vlei might not be trampled in, and the water consequently spoiled.“Karl and I trudged on for some miles to a little ‘kop,’ where we hoped to get a better view round. There was still an appearance of water in the direction where I had first expected, and we made towards it; we arrived there about sundown, and found not a drop—a few stunted bushes were all that could be seen. We lighted a fire, and had a little biltong meat dried in the sun for supper. The day had been very hot, and I was thirsty already, but was obliged to manage without drinking. I knew that I should lose my oxen if I did not find water on the morrow.“During the night several animals came round the fight of our fire, and once I saw a lion: I shouted, and he went away.“Early in the morning we were off again, taking a sweep round towards the waggons. I thought that we were certain of finding water this day; so, although very thirsty, I was not at all alarmed. We walked until long past mid-day, without getting a glimpse of any likely-looking place. The dry salt meat that I had eaten caused me to suffer very much from thirst; the heat of the day was also very great. I kept a bullet in my mouth and bit it; but this soon ceased to be of any use, and my tongue was rattling in my mouth like a stone. I felt growing savage, gave up the idea of water for the oxen, and thought only of myself.“We had to sleep out another night, as I was so much exhausted I could not walk fast. Karl suffered nearly as much as I did; but I think that a Hottentot is by nature more seasoned than a white man, and endures privations better.“On the following morning I could not swallow anything,—thus took no breakfast. I was looking forward with joy to the prospect of even a mouthful of the brackish water that, was at the vlei, which I trusted was not yet all exhausted. We neared the place where the waggon was left just as it was getting light. I fired my gun to let my Kaffirs know that I was coming, but received no answer, nor could I see anything of the white waggon-top. We began to think that we must have mistaken our bearings; but upon getting nearer, we saw an object that looked like the waggon lying on its side: no one was near it, and there was no sign of a fire. What could be the matter? We walked up quickly to the spot, but first went to the vlei, for a little water. Here the catastrophe was explained. Instead of water, a thick mud-paste covered the ground; large circular holes, nearly a foot deep, and two feet in diameter, were, as it seemed, dug all over it; one or two large flat places looked as if the vlei had been rolled with the trunks of trees; these had been baked with the sun, and were nearly hard and dry,—not so much as a drop of water.“A troop of bull-elephants had rolled in the mud and trodden all the water away.“Not content with that, they had either through rage or curiosity upset the waggon, broken one wheel off, and scattered everything about. My Hottentot and Kaffirs no doubt had bolted on the first appearance of the elephants, without so much as firing a shot to try and drive them away. The oxen had also fled; and there we were, with a few biscuits, biltong, powder, shot, and guns, a hundred miles from help. This distance would have been ‘nix’ (nothing) if we could only have procured water; but I knew of none within forty miles, and we had now been forty-eight hours without quenching our thirst.“I lay down on the ground in despair. The ivory I had collected was scattered all about; I thought I never should convey half of it to my home.“Home! How wasIever to reach home?“I said to Karl, ‘You are stronger than I am, you go on,youmay get to water soon, but I am so weak I must stop here and die.’“‘Ne, bas,’ (no, sir), said Karl; ‘let us try on the other side.’“I thought, if I could only shoot a buck, I would not hesitate a moment about drinking his blood; in this idea a hope dawned upon me, and I struggled on.“Towards the middle of the day Karl pointed out a moving object some distance from us. We stopped to look at it, when Karl exclaimed, ‘Wasser soon, bas.’“‘Why, how?’ I asked.“‘That is reitbok,’ he said: ‘where reitbok is, there are reits (reeds); where reits, there wasser.’“I saw his reasoning, and that it was not likely that a reitbok would be very far from water.“This hope gave me fresh strength to go on: we followed the slight traces of this buck, and soon came to a regular beaten track that the buck had made in going to and returning from water. We soon came to the vlei: there was not much water, but still it was worth more than gold to me; I drank as I never drank before.“We stopped beside it all night, and I began to feel hungry, and to want something more than the dry biltong; when, just at daybreak, a reitbok came to drink; Karl was going to shoot him, but I would not let him, explaining that it appeared as though Providence had sent the buck yesterday to save us from dying of thirst.“‘Perhaps He sent him to-day to save us from dying of hunger too, bas,’ was Karl’s irreverent answer. He was, however, allowed to retreat unharmed.“After four days’ travelling on foot, I came to fresh waggon-spoor; we followed it up, when I found it was Eus and Maritz returning from a shooting-journey. They had some spare oxen, which they lent me; I returned with this help, mended my waggon, and had my revenge on the herd of elephants, killing three of them before I left.”“Well,” said Kemp, “when I go into a country where there is not much water, I always take my baboon.”“You don’t drink him, do you?”“No, but I make him show me water.”“How do you do that?”“In this way:—When water gets scarce, I give the Bavian none: if he does not seem thirsty, I rub a little salt on his tongue; I then take him out with a long string or chain. At first it was difficult to make him understand what was wanted, for he always wished to go back to the waggons. Now, however, he is well-trained.“When I get him out some distance, I let him go; he runs along a bit, scratches himself, shows his teeth at me, takes a smell up-wind, looks all round, picks up a bit of grass, smells or eats it, stands up for another sniff, canters on, and so on. Wherever the nearest water is, there he is sure to go.” This anecdote was corroborated by others present.I think a tame baboon to point water is a new phrase to our non-travelled sporting friends.“These elephants must have been very angry,” said Kemp. “One never knows in what temper to find them: they are on one day quiet, and seem scarcely to object to being shot at, while on another they will not allow you to come within a quarter of a mile of them without charging you. I have been very careful how I approached elephants, ever since my Kaffir was killed by them last year, near the Um Volozie.” Another story was here called for, and Kemp told us the following:—Whilst up the country shooting, he came on the fresh spoor of a very large bull-elephant: the traces were quite fresh, the game having passed early that morning. His Kaffir, who was named Mabili, was a capital shot, very cool when near large and dangerous game, and brave as a lion. This man was walking beside the Dutchman, who rode a small pony.It had been arranged between these two, that Mabili was to be entitled to half the game if he put the first bullet into the elephant. This was to give him a greater interest in the hunting, and make him keep a sharp lookout. If, however, he only assisted at the death of an elephant, he was to receive whatever the Boer thought that he deserved.They followed the spoor of the elephant through an open park-like country, a few scattered bushes and trees being the only cover.They had proceeded about four miles on the traces, when the elephant was seen standing under a large tree. I will describe the scene as nearly in the Dutchman’s manner as I can remember:—“He swung his trunk a little every now and then, or I could not have distinguished him from a large rock, he stood so still. We made our plan immediately. I was to leave my horse where we were, and stalk with my Kaffir up to the elephant, for he seemed so quiet that I had no fear that I should not surprise him, surprise being half the battle with an elephant. Mabili had a single-barrelled heavy rifle of mine, that threw a three-ounce bullet, while I was armed with the gun I have with me now (a double-barrelled, eight to the pound). We took advantage of every tree and bush on the ground to conceal our approach, and we arrived to within fifty yards apparently unnoticed. Just as we were going to fire, the hitherto sleepy-looking brute turned quickly round with ears extended, gave a tremendously shrill trumpet, and charged straight at us. We both fired at him, and both hit him; but he never even shook his head, and continued dashing along after us. I turned and ran towards my horse, but had little hope of reaching him, as the distance was great. I therefore dodged sharp to the right, in the direction of a big tree that I had noticed near. I did not know what had become of Mabili, but, on looking round, saw that he had turned in the opposite direction; he was quite right to do this, as it generally puzzles an elephant when those he may be chasing separate. It seemed, however, as if the animal had got its eye well on poor Mabili, as it turned after him, and soon was close on him, I feared that there was no chance for my poor Kaffir, but shouted as loud as I could and fired, that I might take off the elephant’s attention. It was useless; in the next instant he had caught Mabili with his trunk, with which he seemed to press him to the ground, dropping on his knees at the same time so as to thrust his tusks into him. I thought I heard a faint shriek, but, instantly getting on my horse, I galloped up to the scene, and sent a couple of bullets into the savage monster. He had taken up the mangled body of poor Mabili, and was slowly walking away with it, held by his trunk; when I wounded him, he dropped the body, and, giving one of his shrill trumpets, came at me. I did not care much for him now, as I could gallop away from him easily, and, loading quickly, repeated the dose. Six double shots did I give that fellow all about the shoulder before he showed any sign of their hurting him; he then seemed a little weak, and sent a good deal of blood out of his trunk. I was determined to kill that elephant, if I followed him for a week. Upon giving him three more shots, he swung his trunk about a little and fell.“I now looked for the remains of my Kaffir, and found him crushed to pieces; his death must have been quick, as a tusk had gone quite through him, breaking in his chest.“We buried him next day under the tree near which we had first seen the elephant. This man was the best hunting Kaffir I ever had. Always take care how you go near single bull-elephants—they are always very savage: but of all things mind cow-elephants without tusks; they are not common, but if you do come across a ‘poes-kop’ like this, ‘pas-op’ (take care).”Many other tales were told at the time, in which I took great interest. The place was a good one in which to listen to such stirring relations, and they were told without any wish of boasting or display, but merely related as by no means unusual occurrences to those present. Another story was told, which I remember, from the visible proof that was given me of the relator’s veracity. The relator of the story, who was called Hendrick, was a short dark man, but had plenty of sinews, and a look of determination about the eye and lip, evidently showing that upon occasion he could make good his words by deeds. He was asked to tell me the story, and did not appear at all unwilling to comply with the request:—“When I was a youngster about seventeen, I was staying at the house of a neighbour, who had suffered from the visits of a leopard, which had killed nearly twenty chickens during two nights. No one at the house was much of a shot, and they did not like meddling with this fellow. Now, for reasons of my own, I wanted to shoot him.”“Tell the truth, Hendrick; you wanted to show the pretty Katrine you were a man,” said one of the party.“Well, I did wish it,” said Hendrick; “so I started one morning quite early, without telling any one what I was going to do; and mounting my pony, I rode to a kloof about four miles off, where I knew the chicken-killer would most probably be found. My gun was only a single-barrelled, but I did not care much for that.“I went down the ravine on foot, and looked all about for spoor. When I had walked some distance in the kloof and amongst some trees, I found the remains of a buck partly eaten. I saw that it had been seized by the neck, and therefore knew that a leopard had killed it, a hyaena or wolf generally seizing by the flank. I looked carefully all round, but could see nothing of the leopard; but at last I happened to look up in the trees, and there he was leaning over a large branch and eyeing me most viciously. When he saw that I had discovered him, he sprung quickly to the ground, and darted away through the long grass. I had just time to fire at him as he went, and saw by the twist of his body that I had wounded him; but he jumped along like a cat, and as though not much damaged. I ran up the ravine to my horse, and galloped after the leopard, which I could see going along very fast. He was making for a much larger ravine, where some tall trees showed their tops above the banks.“Leaving my horse outside, I went into the ravine on the spoor, which I had great difficulty in following, as the briers and wait-a-bit thorns were troublesome to push through.“After a little way I saw some blood, and could now get on better; my gun had a good charge of powder in it, and I held it ready for a shot, and felt that my knife was loose in the sheath. I did not much like the work, now I was really at it; but it would never do to go back and say I had not looked to see if my leopard were dead.“I sat still a little while to collect my pluck and listen for any sign: not discerning any noise, I moved on again.“When I was down nearly at the bottom of the ravine, I suddenly saw close to me the wounded leopard: he did not run away this time, but crouched down and spit at me like a spiteful cat, laying his ears back and showing his teeth. I fired straight at him at once, and must have hit him; but he still did not move for about an instant. Then with a bound he came close to me, and, just as I was drawing my knife, sprung on me, at the same time seizing the arm with which I tried to keep him off, and fixing his claws into my shoulders. The pain was so great that I shrieked out; but there was no one within five miles to help me, and I knew that I must fight the battle myself for my life. My right arm being free, I plunged my long knife into the brute’s stomach and ripped him up to the chest, and gave him one or two digs behind the shoulder, which must have found his heart, as he suddenly relaxed his hold and fell down from me. The flesh on my thighs was badly torn, as he had fixed his hind-legs there and scratched me, as I have seen two kittens do to each other at play. This struggle was all over in a few seconds, but I had been knocked down, torn, and my arm broken during the time. I tried to get up, but felt giddy and queer, and fell back on the ground insensible.“When I again came to myself, and knew all that had happened, it was quite dark, and I found myself very cold. I tried to get up, but came again to the ground, from pain and weakness. I was in great agony, and felt dreadfully thirsty. A little stream ran down the kloof, and I could hear the water rippling along merrily within a few yards, and yet I could not move. I must have bled very much, as my legs were awfully torn as well as my shoulders, and my arm broken. I could not judge at all what time it was, as, where I lay, the trees prevented my getting much of a view of the stars, and there was no moon to judge by. I lay thinking whether I should live or die, and what my friends and Katrine would think had become of me. The only probable chance of any one coming to help me seemed to be that my pony would go home when he found I did not return to him. A Hottentot then might see him, think something was the matter, and perhaps spoor me to where I lay. I was hoping anxiously for daylight, as I would then try and load my gun, and fire some shots, which would probably be heard at a distance. I so frequently went away for a day or so and stopped at my brother’s, that I did not think the people at the house would be at all alarmed at my absence during the night. I thought over all that had happened to me, and could not blame myself for having been foolhardy, although I was unlucky, and ought to have killed the leopard dead at once. I never knew how it was that he escaped the second shot, for I aimed straight between the eyes, and rarely missed a steady shot. I felt certain that the leopard was dead,—there was that satisfaction at least, and I hoped I should get credit for my courage. I was very anxious for the arrival of day, as I thought help might come then. I had several times tried to move, but the attempt had caused such pain in the wounds, that I could not stir an inch. I thought I felt close against my shoulder a movement of something or other crawling: I did not notice it at first, but once or twice I felt a slight pressure against my arm, which still had a little sensation left. I could not get up, so lay quiet, and did not worry myself about it.“A long time seemed to pass before the daylight came; I lay almost fainting and stupid from the pain and cold, but at last determined to try and load my gun. I turned my head with difficulty, and looked down for my weapon and powder-horn. As I looked at my broken arm,” which was lying uselessly beside me, I saw a great brown-looking thing lying over it. It was an instant or so before I knew what was there; but then I saw that it was the fat bloated body of a hideous puff-adder, lying close against me, evidently for the sake of the warmth. Why I did not shriek out I don’t know; but I never moved. This adder, then, was the thing that I had felt pressing against me for some time, and this poisonous reptile had been my companion for hours.“I kept my eyes on him, and could see a slight muscular motion in his body every now and then like breathing; the idea came across me that he was drinking the blood of my wounds, and had perhaps already bitten me. I felt that I must watch him, and could not look in any other direction; I dared not attempt another trial to get up, as I might fall back on this brute, and get at once a dose of his poison, and be dead in an hour. At last the joyful sound of voices came upon my ear, and there was shouting; I dared not answer, lest the movement in doing so might enrage the adder. I had the fear that the people might not come down to look for me if they heard nothing, and might go on, leaving me to die where I was. I listened, and could hear people talking, but could not make out the words or to whom the voices belonged, but had no doubt that they were some people come in search of me. I at length was certain that, whoever it was, they were now spooring me up, and at last heard their steps come nearer, as they pushed the branches on one side. New hope seemed to come into my heart at these sounds, and I breathed more freely.“As the steps approached, the puff-adder moved; he raised his broad head, not quite two feet from me, and looked in the direction of the new comers; then dropping down, he glided away through the brushwood. I watched him retire, and saw the leopard lying dead within a yard of me. But now that I was comparatively safe, I could no longer bear my situation, and drawing in a long breath, I sent forth a loud cry. The people were immediately around me, and perceived what had happened, with the exception that the puff-adder had been my bed-fellow.“The party consisted of my brother and three Hottentots. These men had informed him that they feared something had happened to me, from the fact of my pony returning alone in the evening. The whole party had spoored me from the first kloof to where I lay. The Hottentots, finding the blood-spoor of the wounded leopard, feared that I had attacked him again, and that he had killed me.“They carried me on the boughs of trees, which they fastened together with reims (strips of untanned leather), and at last managed to convey me home.“I was three months before I could move out of my bed, and all my friends thought that I should die.“Look at my arm! look at my shoulder, where the leopard’s claws tore me; the wounds were given thirteen years ago; see the scars even now!” Saying which he bared his arm and shoulder, where the terrible marks were yet apparent.“When you come across a wounded leopard, you ‘pas-op,’” (take care), was Hendrick’s moral.I thought over this story frequently during the night, and impressed on my mind that I would always be careful of leopards; another instance having occurred, in which a bombardier of artillery was much torn by a wounded leopard close beside his barracks at Natal. With the usual bravery, but want of sporting skill, of the British soldier, he went into the bush, armed with a sword to finish a leopard that had crawled in badly wounded. The savage animal sprang upon him, seized his hand, and would have killed him, had not a fortunate shot from a civilian, who had followed the soldier, laid the leopard low. The loss of the use of his hand was the only damage this man suffered, fortunately for him.These Dutchmen seemed to think that the black rhinoceros was the most formidable customer in South Africa. The lion, which is considered in England so far to exceed all other animals as dangerous game, did not seem to be held in greater awe than either the rhinoceros or a solitary old bull-buffalo. The latter is sometimes sent from a herd by a combination of young bulls, who, disliking his monopoly of the ladies, combine, and turn him out; he then seeks some deep ravine, and buries himself amongst the bushes. He is always sly and vindictive, and will suddenly rush out upon an intruder. One of these brutes once sprang upon a gallant friend of mine, tumbling horse and rider over with a charge that came and was past in an instant.The Boers gave very interesting accounts of the enormous herds of game in the interior. They acknowledged that a large herd of eland such as we had seen was a fine sight, but said that the whole face of the country covered for miles with a densely-packed body of blesbok, bontebok, springbok, and wildebeest, was a still finer one. They said in that the great “trek-boken,” or journey of the springbok, the numbers were inconceivable; that they destroyed all the grass, leaving the plain like a vast cattle-fold; that hundreds died from being in the rear, and not getting anything to eat, while those in front were fat, but from this very cause became at last lazy, and gradually fell in the rear, to become thin in their turn, and again move to the front.

One evening the Boers wished me to tell them something about England, but by a little tact I changed the subject to their own adventures, and at length persuaded one of these men to relate what had happened to himself. I listened to his words with great interest, for the locality was good for a tale of thrilling adventure. The only noises that disturbed the stillness of the silvery moonlight night, were the language of the Kaffirs, with its low harmonious expressions, the crackling of the bivouac-fire as fresh fuel was added, and the distant shriek of the jackal, and laugh of the hyaena, which seemed in this demon-like language to hold communion with the restless spirits who dwelt in the wild regions around us.

“Water is a fine thing, and none know its value who have not suffered for want of it,” said Hotman, one of our party.

“Tell us your story about the elephants,” asked another.

“I was shooting,” said Hotman, “some years back near the Pongola, and had had very good sport; the season was very dry, and we had been for two days with very little water, and that was rather brackish. The vlei being nearly exhausted, and the oxen having sore feet, I determined to go out and have a look for some water, and if I found any, to lead the waggons to it at once. I climbed up a tree near the outspan, and thought that I saw a line of bushes some distance off that showed like the presence of water. Taking with me Karl, a Hottentot,—who was worth his weight in gold, spoored and rode well, a steady hand with elephants, and seldom got drunk or told lies, all great recommendations for a Totty,—we started away to the bushy place which I had seen, leaving my other Hottentot and three Kaffirs with the waggons.

“All my horses had died of the sickness, and several of the oxen were very bad with the same disease. I gave directions that my Kaffirs were not to leave the waggons until I returned, as elephants were near them, and I wished them to keep a fire burning night and day, as a protection. Enough water was in the vlei to last two or three days, with care. We had scooped out a hole, and to obtain water, dipped the small tin cans in it till we got a pailful, which we gave then to the oxen. I had ordered the Kaffirs to drive the oxen far away, and to make them fast when they came near, so that the vlei might not be trampled in, and the water consequently spoiled.

“Karl and I trudged on for some miles to a little ‘kop,’ where we hoped to get a better view round. There was still an appearance of water in the direction where I had first expected, and we made towards it; we arrived there about sundown, and found not a drop—a few stunted bushes were all that could be seen. We lighted a fire, and had a little biltong meat dried in the sun for supper. The day had been very hot, and I was thirsty already, but was obliged to manage without drinking. I knew that I should lose my oxen if I did not find water on the morrow.

“During the night several animals came round the fight of our fire, and once I saw a lion: I shouted, and he went away.

“Early in the morning we were off again, taking a sweep round towards the waggons. I thought that we were certain of finding water this day; so, although very thirsty, I was not at all alarmed. We walked until long past mid-day, without getting a glimpse of any likely-looking place. The dry salt meat that I had eaten caused me to suffer very much from thirst; the heat of the day was also very great. I kept a bullet in my mouth and bit it; but this soon ceased to be of any use, and my tongue was rattling in my mouth like a stone. I felt growing savage, gave up the idea of water for the oxen, and thought only of myself.

“We had to sleep out another night, as I was so much exhausted I could not walk fast. Karl suffered nearly as much as I did; but I think that a Hottentot is by nature more seasoned than a white man, and endures privations better.

“On the following morning I could not swallow anything,—thus took no breakfast. I was looking forward with joy to the prospect of even a mouthful of the brackish water that, was at the vlei, which I trusted was not yet all exhausted. We neared the place where the waggon was left just as it was getting light. I fired my gun to let my Kaffirs know that I was coming, but received no answer, nor could I see anything of the white waggon-top. We began to think that we must have mistaken our bearings; but upon getting nearer, we saw an object that looked like the waggon lying on its side: no one was near it, and there was no sign of a fire. What could be the matter? We walked up quickly to the spot, but first went to the vlei, for a little water. Here the catastrophe was explained. Instead of water, a thick mud-paste covered the ground; large circular holes, nearly a foot deep, and two feet in diameter, were, as it seemed, dug all over it; one or two large flat places looked as if the vlei had been rolled with the trunks of trees; these had been baked with the sun, and were nearly hard and dry,—not so much as a drop of water.

“A troop of bull-elephants had rolled in the mud and trodden all the water away.

“Not content with that, they had either through rage or curiosity upset the waggon, broken one wheel off, and scattered everything about. My Hottentot and Kaffirs no doubt had bolted on the first appearance of the elephants, without so much as firing a shot to try and drive them away. The oxen had also fled; and there we were, with a few biscuits, biltong, powder, shot, and guns, a hundred miles from help. This distance would have been ‘nix’ (nothing) if we could only have procured water; but I knew of none within forty miles, and we had now been forty-eight hours without quenching our thirst.

“I lay down on the ground in despair. The ivory I had collected was scattered all about; I thought I never should convey half of it to my home.

“Home! How wasIever to reach home?

“I said to Karl, ‘You are stronger than I am, you go on,youmay get to water soon, but I am so weak I must stop here and die.’

“‘Ne, bas,’ (no, sir), said Karl; ‘let us try on the other side.’

“I thought, if I could only shoot a buck, I would not hesitate a moment about drinking his blood; in this idea a hope dawned upon me, and I struggled on.

“Towards the middle of the day Karl pointed out a moving object some distance from us. We stopped to look at it, when Karl exclaimed, ‘Wasser soon, bas.’

“‘Why, how?’ I asked.

“‘That is reitbok,’ he said: ‘where reitbok is, there are reits (reeds); where reits, there wasser.’

“I saw his reasoning, and that it was not likely that a reitbok would be very far from water.

“This hope gave me fresh strength to go on: we followed the slight traces of this buck, and soon came to a regular beaten track that the buck had made in going to and returning from water. We soon came to the vlei: there was not much water, but still it was worth more than gold to me; I drank as I never drank before.

“We stopped beside it all night, and I began to feel hungry, and to want something more than the dry biltong; when, just at daybreak, a reitbok came to drink; Karl was going to shoot him, but I would not let him, explaining that it appeared as though Providence had sent the buck yesterday to save us from dying of thirst.

“‘Perhaps He sent him to-day to save us from dying of hunger too, bas,’ was Karl’s irreverent answer. He was, however, allowed to retreat unharmed.

“After four days’ travelling on foot, I came to fresh waggon-spoor; we followed it up, when I found it was Eus and Maritz returning from a shooting-journey. They had some spare oxen, which they lent me; I returned with this help, mended my waggon, and had my revenge on the herd of elephants, killing three of them before I left.”

“Well,” said Kemp, “when I go into a country where there is not much water, I always take my baboon.”

“You don’t drink him, do you?”

“No, but I make him show me water.”

“How do you do that?”

“In this way:—When water gets scarce, I give the Bavian none: if he does not seem thirsty, I rub a little salt on his tongue; I then take him out with a long string or chain. At first it was difficult to make him understand what was wanted, for he always wished to go back to the waggons. Now, however, he is well-trained.

“When I get him out some distance, I let him go; he runs along a bit, scratches himself, shows his teeth at me, takes a smell up-wind, looks all round, picks up a bit of grass, smells or eats it, stands up for another sniff, canters on, and so on. Wherever the nearest water is, there he is sure to go.” This anecdote was corroborated by others present.

I think a tame baboon to point water is a new phrase to our non-travelled sporting friends.

“These elephants must have been very angry,” said Kemp. “One never knows in what temper to find them: they are on one day quiet, and seem scarcely to object to being shot at, while on another they will not allow you to come within a quarter of a mile of them without charging you. I have been very careful how I approached elephants, ever since my Kaffir was killed by them last year, near the Um Volozie.” Another story was here called for, and Kemp told us the following:—Whilst up the country shooting, he came on the fresh spoor of a very large bull-elephant: the traces were quite fresh, the game having passed early that morning. His Kaffir, who was named Mabili, was a capital shot, very cool when near large and dangerous game, and brave as a lion. This man was walking beside the Dutchman, who rode a small pony.

It had been arranged between these two, that Mabili was to be entitled to half the game if he put the first bullet into the elephant. This was to give him a greater interest in the hunting, and make him keep a sharp lookout. If, however, he only assisted at the death of an elephant, he was to receive whatever the Boer thought that he deserved.

They followed the spoor of the elephant through an open park-like country, a few scattered bushes and trees being the only cover.

They had proceeded about four miles on the traces, when the elephant was seen standing under a large tree. I will describe the scene as nearly in the Dutchman’s manner as I can remember:—

“He swung his trunk a little every now and then, or I could not have distinguished him from a large rock, he stood so still. We made our plan immediately. I was to leave my horse where we were, and stalk with my Kaffir up to the elephant, for he seemed so quiet that I had no fear that I should not surprise him, surprise being half the battle with an elephant. Mabili had a single-barrelled heavy rifle of mine, that threw a three-ounce bullet, while I was armed with the gun I have with me now (a double-barrelled, eight to the pound). We took advantage of every tree and bush on the ground to conceal our approach, and we arrived to within fifty yards apparently unnoticed. Just as we were going to fire, the hitherto sleepy-looking brute turned quickly round with ears extended, gave a tremendously shrill trumpet, and charged straight at us. We both fired at him, and both hit him; but he never even shook his head, and continued dashing along after us. I turned and ran towards my horse, but had little hope of reaching him, as the distance was great. I therefore dodged sharp to the right, in the direction of a big tree that I had noticed near. I did not know what had become of Mabili, but, on looking round, saw that he had turned in the opposite direction; he was quite right to do this, as it generally puzzles an elephant when those he may be chasing separate. It seemed, however, as if the animal had got its eye well on poor Mabili, as it turned after him, and soon was close on him, I feared that there was no chance for my poor Kaffir, but shouted as loud as I could and fired, that I might take off the elephant’s attention. It was useless; in the next instant he had caught Mabili with his trunk, with which he seemed to press him to the ground, dropping on his knees at the same time so as to thrust his tusks into him. I thought I heard a faint shriek, but, instantly getting on my horse, I galloped up to the scene, and sent a couple of bullets into the savage monster. He had taken up the mangled body of poor Mabili, and was slowly walking away with it, held by his trunk; when I wounded him, he dropped the body, and, giving one of his shrill trumpets, came at me. I did not care much for him now, as I could gallop away from him easily, and, loading quickly, repeated the dose. Six double shots did I give that fellow all about the shoulder before he showed any sign of their hurting him; he then seemed a little weak, and sent a good deal of blood out of his trunk. I was determined to kill that elephant, if I followed him for a week. Upon giving him three more shots, he swung his trunk about a little and fell.

“I now looked for the remains of my Kaffir, and found him crushed to pieces; his death must have been quick, as a tusk had gone quite through him, breaking in his chest.

“We buried him next day under the tree near which we had first seen the elephant. This man was the best hunting Kaffir I ever had. Always take care how you go near single bull-elephants—they are always very savage: but of all things mind cow-elephants without tusks; they are not common, but if you do come across a ‘poes-kop’ like this, ‘pas-op’ (take care).”

Many other tales were told at the time, in which I took great interest. The place was a good one in which to listen to such stirring relations, and they were told without any wish of boasting or display, but merely related as by no means unusual occurrences to those present. Another story was told, which I remember, from the visible proof that was given me of the relator’s veracity. The relator of the story, who was called Hendrick, was a short dark man, but had plenty of sinews, and a look of determination about the eye and lip, evidently showing that upon occasion he could make good his words by deeds. He was asked to tell me the story, and did not appear at all unwilling to comply with the request:—

“When I was a youngster about seventeen, I was staying at the house of a neighbour, who had suffered from the visits of a leopard, which had killed nearly twenty chickens during two nights. No one at the house was much of a shot, and they did not like meddling with this fellow. Now, for reasons of my own, I wanted to shoot him.”

“Tell the truth, Hendrick; you wanted to show the pretty Katrine you were a man,” said one of the party.

“Well, I did wish it,” said Hendrick; “so I started one morning quite early, without telling any one what I was going to do; and mounting my pony, I rode to a kloof about four miles off, where I knew the chicken-killer would most probably be found. My gun was only a single-barrelled, but I did not care much for that.

“I went down the ravine on foot, and looked all about for spoor. When I had walked some distance in the kloof and amongst some trees, I found the remains of a buck partly eaten. I saw that it had been seized by the neck, and therefore knew that a leopard had killed it, a hyaena or wolf generally seizing by the flank. I looked carefully all round, but could see nothing of the leopard; but at last I happened to look up in the trees, and there he was leaning over a large branch and eyeing me most viciously. When he saw that I had discovered him, he sprung quickly to the ground, and darted away through the long grass. I had just time to fire at him as he went, and saw by the twist of his body that I had wounded him; but he jumped along like a cat, and as though not much damaged. I ran up the ravine to my horse, and galloped after the leopard, which I could see going along very fast. He was making for a much larger ravine, where some tall trees showed their tops above the banks.

“Leaving my horse outside, I went into the ravine on the spoor, which I had great difficulty in following, as the briers and wait-a-bit thorns were troublesome to push through.

“After a little way I saw some blood, and could now get on better; my gun had a good charge of powder in it, and I held it ready for a shot, and felt that my knife was loose in the sheath. I did not much like the work, now I was really at it; but it would never do to go back and say I had not looked to see if my leopard were dead.

“I sat still a little while to collect my pluck and listen for any sign: not discerning any noise, I moved on again.

“When I was down nearly at the bottom of the ravine, I suddenly saw close to me the wounded leopard: he did not run away this time, but crouched down and spit at me like a spiteful cat, laying his ears back and showing his teeth. I fired straight at him at once, and must have hit him; but he still did not move for about an instant. Then with a bound he came close to me, and, just as I was drawing my knife, sprung on me, at the same time seizing the arm with which I tried to keep him off, and fixing his claws into my shoulders. The pain was so great that I shrieked out; but there was no one within five miles to help me, and I knew that I must fight the battle myself for my life. My right arm being free, I plunged my long knife into the brute’s stomach and ripped him up to the chest, and gave him one or two digs behind the shoulder, which must have found his heart, as he suddenly relaxed his hold and fell down from me. The flesh on my thighs was badly torn, as he had fixed his hind-legs there and scratched me, as I have seen two kittens do to each other at play. This struggle was all over in a few seconds, but I had been knocked down, torn, and my arm broken during the time. I tried to get up, but felt giddy and queer, and fell back on the ground insensible.

“When I again came to myself, and knew all that had happened, it was quite dark, and I found myself very cold. I tried to get up, but came again to the ground, from pain and weakness. I was in great agony, and felt dreadfully thirsty. A little stream ran down the kloof, and I could hear the water rippling along merrily within a few yards, and yet I could not move. I must have bled very much, as my legs were awfully torn as well as my shoulders, and my arm broken. I could not judge at all what time it was, as, where I lay, the trees prevented my getting much of a view of the stars, and there was no moon to judge by. I lay thinking whether I should live or die, and what my friends and Katrine would think had become of me. The only probable chance of any one coming to help me seemed to be that my pony would go home when he found I did not return to him. A Hottentot then might see him, think something was the matter, and perhaps spoor me to where I lay. I was hoping anxiously for daylight, as I would then try and load my gun, and fire some shots, which would probably be heard at a distance. I so frequently went away for a day or so and stopped at my brother’s, that I did not think the people at the house would be at all alarmed at my absence during the night. I thought over all that had happened to me, and could not blame myself for having been foolhardy, although I was unlucky, and ought to have killed the leopard dead at once. I never knew how it was that he escaped the second shot, for I aimed straight between the eyes, and rarely missed a steady shot. I felt certain that the leopard was dead,—there was that satisfaction at least, and I hoped I should get credit for my courage. I was very anxious for the arrival of day, as I thought help might come then. I had several times tried to move, but the attempt had caused such pain in the wounds, that I could not stir an inch. I thought I felt close against my shoulder a movement of something or other crawling: I did not notice it at first, but once or twice I felt a slight pressure against my arm, which still had a little sensation left. I could not get up, so lay quiet, and did not worry myself about it.

“A long time seemed to pass before the daylight came; I lay almost fainting and stupid from the pain and cold, but at last determined to try and load my gun. I turned my head with difficulty, and looked down for my weapon and powder-horn. As I looked at my broken arm,” which was lying uselessly beside me, I saw a great brown-looking thing lying over it. It was an instant or so before I knew what was there; but then I saw that it was the fat bloated body of a hideous puff-adder, lying close against me, evidently for the sake of the warmth. Why I did not shriek out I don’t know; but I never moved. This adder, then, was the thing that I had felt pressing against me for some time, and this poisonous reptile had been my companion for hours.

“I kept my eyes on him, and could see a slight muscular motion in his body every now and then like breathing; the idea came across me that he was drinking the blood of my wounds, and had perhaps already bitten me. I felt that I must watch him, and could not look in any other direction; I dared not attempt another trial to get up, as I might fall back on this brute, and get at once a dose of his poison, and be dead in an hour. At last the joyful sound of voices came upon my ear, and there was shouting; I dared not answer, lest the movement in doing so might enrage the adder. I had the fear that the people might not come down to look for me if they heard nothing, and might go on, leaving me to die where I was. I listened, and could hear people talking, but could not make out the words or to whom the voices belonged, but had no doubt that they were some people come in search of me. I at length was certain that, whoever it was, they were now spooring me up, and at last heard their steps come nearer, as they pushed the branches on one side. New hope seemed to come into my heart at these sounds, and I breathed more freely.

“As the steps approached, the puff-adder moved; he raised his broad head, not quite two feet from me, and looked in the direction of the new comers; then dropping down, he glided away through the brushwood. I watched him retire, and saw the leopard lying dead within a yard of me. But now that I was comparatively safe, I could no longer bear my situation, and drawing in a long breath, I sent forth a loud cry. The people were immediately around me, and perceived what had happened, with the exception that the puff-adder had been my bed-fellow.

“The party consisted of my brother and three Hottentots. These men had informed him that they feared something had happened to me, from the fact of my pony returning alone in the evening. The whole party had spoored me from the first kloof to where I lay. The Hottentots, finding the blood-spoor of the wounded leopard, feared that I had attacked him again, and that he had killed me.

“They carried me on the boughs of trees, which they fastened together with reims (strips of untanned leather), and at last managed to convey me home.

“I was three months before I could move out of my bed, and all my friends thought that I should die.

“Look at my arm! look at my shoulder, where the leopard’s claws tore me; the wounds were given thirteen years ago; see the scars even now!” Saying which he bared his arm and shoulder, where the terrible marks were yet apparent.

“When you come across a wounded leopard, you ‘pas-op,’” (take care), was Hendrick’s moral.

I thought over this story frequently during the night, and impressed on my mind that I would always be careful of leopards; another instance having occurred, in which a bombardier of artillery was much torn by a wounded leopard close beside his barracks at Natal. With the usual bravery, but want of sporting skill, of the British soldier, he went into the bush, armed with a sword to finish a leopard that had crawled in badly wounded. The savage animal sprang upon him, seized his hand, and would have killed him, had not a fortunate shot from a civilian, who had followed the soldier, laid the leopard low. The loss of the use of his hand was the only damage this man suffered, fortunately for him.

These Dutchmen seemed to think that the black rhinoceros was the most formidable customer in South Africa. The lion, which is considered in England so far to exceed all other animals as dangerous game, did not seem to be held in greater awe than either the rhinoceros or a solitary old bull-buffalo. The latter is sometimes sent from a herd by a combination of young bulls, who, disliking his monopoly of the ladies, combine, and turn him out; he then seeks some deep ravine, and buries himself amongst the bushes. He is always sly and vindictive, and will suddenly rush out upon an intruder. One of these brutes once sprang upon a gallant friend of mine, tumbling horse and rider over with a charge that came and was past in an instant.

The Boers gave very interesting accounts of the enormous herds of game in the interior. They acknowledged that a large herd of eland such as we had seen was a fine sight, but said that the whole face of the country covered for miles with a densely-packed body of blesbok, bontebok, springbok, and wildebeest, was a still finer one. They said in that the great “trek-boken,” or journey of the springbok, the numbers were inconceivable; that they destroyed all the grass, leaving the plain like a vast cattle-fold; that hundreds died from being in the rear, and not getting anything to eat, while those in front were fat, but from this very cause became at last lazy, and gradually fell in the rear, to become thin in their turn, and again move to the front.

Chapter Nine.Bush-shooting—Silent walking—How to cock a gun—How to sit down—Delights of the bush—How to obtain honey—The honey-bird—The grey monkey—Ball better than shot—Variety of bush game—Hardening bullets—The alligator—The Pouw—Boldness of the eagle—The Osprey.Silence and quietness are the two important acquirements for success in bush-shooting, and a sharp look-out must also be kept on the surrounding forest: the hunter must move like a ghost, and have his eyes everywhere. Few understand what the term quiet walking means until they become expert bush-rangers.My careful follower, Inyovu, will now enter the bush with me in search of buck. We are not armed for elephants (that is, our guns are of too small a calibre), so we keep a look-out for their fresh footprints, or other traces, and immediately take care to avoid the animals. Inyovu has a gun to carry, more for his own satisfaction than use, as he is a miserable shot, and requires a longer time to aim than an artilleryman would take to lay a mortar. From his professor-like skill, however, in silent walking, he could, when sent out alone, often shoot and bring home one of the three sort of bush-buck that frequented this region. When he accompanied me, it was entirely for the purpose of carrying anything that I might shoot.The part chosen for this sport was generally the most open in the bush, and the least crowded with underwood. In time I had my separate beats, and used to draw them as regularly as hounds draw their respective covers. Dress is a most important part in these excursions: the trousers of the country, made of untanned leather, and termed crackers, are very good; a long jacket of dark blue or green is better, but a dark dull red is even more killing; theveld-schoens(shoes) worn by the Dutch are certainly far superior to any other boot or shoe I ever saw; they are comfortable, soft, and silent, not unlike the mocassin. Having entered a few yards in the path chosen, which should be one well-worn by the elephants, it is advisable to wait a few minutes and listen, to be certain that all is going on right: the stealthy advance then commences.The first thing to be done is to look where the foot that you are going to advance can be placed. If any dried sticks or leaves are in the way, the greatest care must be taken, for the cracking or crushing of either would alarm the bush for miles. This may seem giving too much importance to the matter; but the case is thus: the animals that live here trust to their sense of hearing and smelling more than to their sight; a slight collateral circumstance, if I may so term it, also alarms their naturally suspicious nature. A buck may be forty yards from you unseen; your tread is heard; he takes the alarm, and bounds off, giving, as he goes, that warning whistle that every bush-hunter detests. Others on his line of retreat take up the panic, and, for I may say a mile at least, the crack caused by your incautious tread is, as it were, telegraphed. This watchfulness of the bucks, etc., easily accounts for theabsenceof game complained of by every tyro in bush-shooting. We will suppose that our advance has been conducted without a cracking or crushing of leaves or sticks, and we come to a branch which has been broken by elephants, and lies across the path. Here we have a very tough customer. If the branch is too low to creep under, we must move cautiously over it, stepping carefully between the small branches, and keeping our balance steadily on each leg in succession—the slightest blunder here would be serious. Another branch merely bent across the path, and a few feet from the ground, is slowly raised with one hand, while you pass under it; the next man behind receives it, passes, and, if the last of the party, allows it to regain its original position. As this latter proceeding cannot be done without a slight rustling of leaves, it is better to stand for two or three minutes to allow any suspicion that may have been raised to be forgotten by the animals near. We now take a peep round, and get a better view by stooping low down, the underwood and branches not being so thickly leaved close to the ground. Ah! something moved in that deep shadow; now for the Kaffir’s eyes; a signal with the finger, and Inyovu is on his knees, head low, and looking at the suspicious object, which is about fifty yards distant, partly hidden by the intervening stumps, and indistinct in the gloom of the bush. Inyovu, more by the movement of his lips and the expression of his countenance than by words, indicates it asimponze(buck). The gun, which for bush-work I always loaded with ball, as more rapid in its killing powers, is now brought to full cock, but not simply in the usual manner, for the click would be instantly responded to by the darting off of the victim. The cock must be held tight with the thumb while the trigger is pulled back; the cock then raised to the full, and trigger released: this is all done silently. The piece is now slowly raised, and the best place chosen between the branches for the path of the bullet, as a little twig will turn a ball. During this examination and preparation the buck is silently stealing away, lifting his legs high and slowly; a nice open space is seen clear of brambles, and the previous silence is broken, first by the report of the gun, and, secondly, by a “bah!” from the moving animal: a rush is made to the spot, and a red bush-buck, about the size of a roe-deer, but stouter, becomes the reward of the previous precautions. The usual operations are performed on him, and a slight rest is taken. For two people to sit down in the bush would be a very simple thing, and liable to no mistake, we should imagine; but it is not so. Inyovu won’t sit beside me on the old log, but, facing me, takes his position. “Why did you move, Inyovu?”“Must not sit side by side in the bush; we only see half round. Sit face to face; you see one half, and I the other; then no animal approaches without being seen.” After this caution, I never again made such a cockney blunder with Kaffirs. Two or three powerful doses of snuff act like a glass of grog on my dark friend, and I find the stimulating effect of a pinch on myself; the day is intensely hot, and but little wind is stirring. Inyovu remarks that we must not go further down this path. I heard a buck just blow the alarm, and he must have “got our Wind.” The wind has changed a little, as, throwing some sand in the air, he watched the light particles float away in the direction that the path turned. It now became a question of how much meat was required, whether another buck was to pay tribute on that day. Three Kaffirs and four dogs to feed daily, besides a most infallible appetite on the part of myself, consumed a large quantity of flesh. If more venison were required, our first buck would be concealed in the fork of a tree, or other convenient place, to wait until called for; and the same stealthy work carried on until a sufficiency was obtained, when we would retrace our steps for those bucks that we had left hidden two or three days. A week can be passed in this way very pleasantly, for the charm of the bush never wears away; the mystery is always the same. The hot winds that sometimes blow on the flat or open country are scarcely felt under the sheltering branches; the heat of the sun is, in the bush, only occasionally annoying, while the scent of the wild flowers gives a most delicious perfume to the air. The brilliant plumage of the birds flashes occasionally across the path, and the busy, playful, little grey monkey amuses you with his threatening grimaces. The exercise also of the faculties that this sort of amusement necessarily entails, I believe, must lead to a higher state of health in both body and mind than is likely to result from the acquaintance of strong tobacco and brandy-and-water, that are sometimes the early companions of “Nothing-to-do” gentlemen, who are condemned to pass a certain number of days in the far south-east of Africa. A tropical forest is a nosegay of sweet-scented flowers; and as the traveller crushes a blossoming plant, or his horse disturbs the position of the creeper-hung branches, his course may long be traced by the extra perfume which these African weeds then send forth. Frequently, during my pursuit of wounded game, I have stopped, and turned my attention from the blood-stained footprints, which stir the savage half of man’s nature, and have become almost romantic, whilst regarding the grace and beauty of some vegetable gem, adorned with flowers of dazzling brilliancy and leaves of luxuriant growth.My savage companions could not sympathise in the more refined feelings thus brought out. They could see but a “mùti” (tree or plant), and, as it was neither fit for food or physic, they were frequently disposed to consider me weak for examining a plant that, although as dirt to the savage, would still have obtained the prize at our best botanic fêtes. These barbarians could see nothing either to wonder at or to gratify them in a simple flower, and, like many a white man, they considered that, as it was not useful or good either for eating, drinking, or physicking, it must necessarily be beneath the notice of a wise man.The wild honey that was found in the bush was very delicious. It was taken from the owners in the coolest manner; coolness, in fact, being the best defence.While walking with my Kaffir, he would suddenly look up with a very knowing expression, and the usual “ether,” indicative of a satisfactory discovery; this discovery perhaps being nothing more than a common bee. It would be alarmed, and its line of flight watched; we would follow the direction that it took, and then look out for another bee; and so on until we were led up to the hive, which was generally situated in a hollow tree. The Kaffir then, gently inserting his arm, seizes hold of a large piece of the comb, and quietly withdraws his hand; he then walks quietly away a few yards with his prize. The bees, of course, fly all round him, and settle on his face and shoulders; he does not attempt to drive them off, but waits until they leave him. He then pouches the honey, wax, and eggs, and goes again to the hive to repeat the performance. If any of the bees get a squeeze with the hand or arm, they give a peculiar buzz, which seems to intimate to all other bees that they are to attack the intruders. Once on taking a bees’-nest, I was severely stung; they came and settled round my eyes, and I could with difficulty beat them off, and make my escape: it was all owing to my having squeezed a bee by accident as I was getting out the honey. Their stings, however, are not so severe as the English bee, as I suffered but little from these numerous stings. The middle of the day is generally chosen for taking a bees’-nest, as fewer are then at home.Sometimes the position of a beehive is discovered by the aid of a honey-bird. This little creature appears to have sense beyond its feathered brethren; it apparently calls the traveller, and indicates that it wishes him to follow it, uttering perpetually a peculiar note, and flying from tree to tree, until it reaches the vicinity of the hive, when it gives a grand chorus of chirps. This useful little creature is, of course, rewarded with a share of the honey, and has the pickings from the hollow tree besides.One frequently met numbers of the little grey monkeys in the bush. These mercurial little creatures are very amusing, and I often thought that they must have great fun with the elephants, the old-fashioned staid character of the latter being just the sort of butt that monkeys would choose upon which to play their practical jokes. A monkey can jump on and off an elephant’s back with very little fear of consequences, thanks to his wonderful activity; or can pull a tail or an ear, with but little chance of meeting punishment from the powerful trunk. I consider these monkeys as the regular and acknowledged harlequins of the bush, and never could bear the idea of shooting at one. I frequently had disputes with my Kaffirs on this subject, as they would get into a great state of excitement if there were a good chance of knocking over a monkey; the skin, when converted into long strips, being a very fashionable article to wear round the waist or ankles.I made a very good double shot on one occasion, by which I killed a buck and doe of the black bush-buck. I obtained a snap shot at the buck as he was bounding over a bush, and dropped him; the lady came back to peep at what had detained her good man, and suffered for her curiosity. I was much in want of meat at the time for my Kaffirs and dogs, or would have sparedher.In both these instances I found the advantage of using a bullet in place of shot, both animals dropping dead at once. If shot is used, at least half the bucks wounded escape for the time, and die miserably in some dark part of the forest, a feast for wolves and jackals. With a bullet-wound they rarely travel far, if hit anywhere about the shoulder.Really one never tires of the forest-life, there is pleasure in even walking through its paths, made as they are by the African elephantine McAdam, and merely looking at the trees and shrubs, each and every one of which would be a gem in England. It is a conservatory on a Brobdignagian scale. Then, to a sportsman, there is the excitement: At which shall we have the first shot, a buck or an elephant, a buffalo or a guinea-fowl? or shall we walk the whole day and see nothing but a poisonous snake, wriggling away in the dead leaves? There is always something here to be seen that is interesting from viewing it in its natural state. The manis is frequently found in the bush; lots of little creatures, like weasels, and birds of most brilliant plumage. There may be no accounting for taste, but I would rather walk through an African forest than either up Cheapside, or even Regent-Street: the one is all real and true, the other artificial and in great part false, if we are to believe the chemical tests by which most of our groceries have so lately been exposed.Twice in the Natal bush, and once across the Umganie, I killed three bucks in one day. When across the Umganie, I shot the first as he was in the open ground, and knocked him over with a bullet as he was running; the other two I killed in the bush. Monyosi’s brother was with me, and it was hard work carrying the venison home. A curious thing happened with one of the bucks that I killed on this same day. It heard us coming, but did not know exactly where we were, and jumped into the path about ten yards in front of me. I gave it a raking shot, to which it fell, but got up again, and was going away on three legs, when I dropped it with a bullet in the neck. I was much surprised that it rose after being struck with the first bullet, which ought to have gone right through it, and to have come out in the buck’s chest. I looked for the two bullet-holes, and saw but one. Upon opening it, the mystery was solved,—the bullet had broken against a bone, and was in a dozen pieces. For this fracturing I accounted by my attempt to harden the bullets for elephant-shooting by adding tin to the lead, and the tin, being the lighter metal, had floated to the surface of the lead, and some of my first bullets had been cast of nearly pure tin, instead of the right composition, and therefore were as brittle as glass. The right hardness is when the teeth can only just leave the least mark on the bullet: this gives about one-eighth tin as the right mixture.My two Kaffirs returning with me one day to the Umganie Drift, we found the tide up, and the water consequently too deep to get across: it was about five feet in the deepest part.Thiswould not have prevented us from wading, as there was not much current running, and no sea on; but as great numbers of hungry sharks were on one side, and alligators on the other, we did not like to venture, the breadth being nearly two hundred yards. The alligator is a very unpleasant customer if you are in the water. An accident happened at the Drift, about two miles from the mouth of the Umganie, to an Englishman, a very worthy settler. He lived in a little cottage across the river, and was returning one evening with a supply of fresh meat, which he carried with his clothes over his head: the water was about breast-high. Suddenly, when about the middle of the river, he was seized round the waist by the jaws of an alligator. He dropped his meat, and caught hold of the animal’s head, calling at the same time to a Kaffir who was near. It was either the shout or the seizing that frightened the creature, for it let go its hold, and the poor man reached the opposite side of the river, where he fainted. The wounds he had received were very severe; he was three months before he could move about, and never again seemed the same man that he was before this mangling. I often saw an old Kaffir, near the Umganie, who had nearly the whole fleshy part of the thigh torn off by an alligator as he was one day crossing the river. My days and evenings of patient watching were not rewarded by a shot at this rapacious brute.The alligator often devours its prey as it comes to drink. Slowly approaching some unsuspecting animal, it seizes it by the nose, and drags it under water; the weight of the alligator prevents the animal from raising its head; it is in consequence soon suffocated, and is dragged to a convenient retired place until required, or sufficiently high to suit the Epicurean taste of this scaly monster.Besides the animals that I have already particularly mentioned, very good sport could be had with wild fowl of different kinds,—partridges, guinea-fowl, pheasants, and bustard. The large description of the latter, called by the colonists thepouw, is a magnificent bird, and is considered a great delicacy for the table. They have been shot weighing about twenty or thirty pounds. They walk about the newly-burnt grass picking up the fried worms and other animals brought to light by the fire. These birds being very difficult to approach, I generally rode round and round them, commencing my circle from a long distance, and gradually narrowing it, taking care, however, not to look at the birds. They are so keen-sighted, that, were you to look fixedly at them, even when distant, they would immediately fly away; whereas, if they consider that you do not see them, they will crouch down their heads and remain perfectly still, letting you circle up to them. Having always one barrel loaded with ball and the other with buckshot for this work, I was ready to take a long shot with the bullet, if there was any appearance of the birds taking an early flight. If, however, no signs of impatience were shown, and thepouwtried the hiding dodge, the plan was to get within eighty or one hundred yards, dismount, and run in towards the birds: they could not rise very quickly, and a dose of buckshot, as they opened their wings, was generally effective in stopping them.Upon wounding a youngpouwone day, as I was riding home, I was opposed by a rival sporting gentleman, in the shape of an eagle. Thepouwrose nearly under my horse’s feet, but, as I was cantering, he got some distance off before I could pull up and fire; the dropping of both hind-legs told a tale of mortal wounds, and he sailed steadily down to a little clump of bushes. His unfortunate condition had not escaped the all-observant eye of a hungry eagle, who was sailing about over me; nearly closing his wings, he dashed after thepouw, caught him before he reached the ground, and flew away with him. To see one’s dinner thus walked off with was too much to bear quietly. I therefore galloped after the robber, who soon came to the ground, finding that the weight of his burden did not assist his aerial performances. I reached to within a hundred yards of him, when he again rose; taking a steady aim at him, I fired, and sent the bullet sufficiently close to astonish him, as he instantly dropped my property, and made off, leaving me in quiet possession.There are a great many varieties of the eagle and hawk tribe in South Africa; some specimens are very small, others magnificent fellows. The wild, shrill scream of the osprey, or sea-eagle, always struck me as being very characteristic of this bird; there is a defiant and bold sort of sound in his voice, heard so plainly, while he, thousands of feet high, is almost, if not quite, invisible to the eye. Then coming down suddenly, like a bolt from heaven, he pounces on some victim, whom he clutches in his talons, and again soars aloft with a triumphant piercing shriek. I obtained a fine fresh mullet, on one occasion, from one of these feathered fishermen, whom I saw passing high overhead with his prize. I sent a bullet whistling by his ear, which made him drop the fish; it came down with a loud bang on the grass, and was still alive when I picked it up. The osprey sailed round two or three times, as though regretting the loss of such a good supper, and retraced his aerial course for another victim.

Silence and quietness are the two important acquirements for success in bush-shooting, and a sharp look-out must also be kept on the surrounding forest: the hunter must move like a ghost, and have his eyes everywhere. Few understand what the term quiet walking means until they become expert bush-rangers.

My careful follower, Inyovu, will now enter the bush with me in search of buck. We are not armed for elephants (that is, our guns are of too small a calibre), so we keep a look-out for their fresh footprints, or other traces, and immediately take care to avoid the animals. Inyovu has a gun to carry, more for his own satisfaction than use, as he is a miserable shot, and requires a longer time to aim than an artilleryman would take to lay a mortar. From his professor-like skill, however, in silent walking, he could, when sent out alone, often shoot and bring home one of the three sort of bush-buck that frequented this region. When he accompanied me, it was entirely for the purpose of carrying anything that I might shoot.

The part chosen for this sport was generally the most open in the bush, and the least crowded with underwood. In time I had my separate beats, and used to draw them as regularly as hounds draw their respective covers. Dress is a most important part in these excursions: the trousers of the country, made of untanned leather, and termed crackers, are very good; a long jacket of dark blue or green is better, but a dark dull red is even more killing; theveld-schoens(shoes) worn by the Dutch are certainly far superior to any other boot or shoe I ever saw; they are comfortable, soft, and silent, not unlike the mocassin. Having entered a few yards in the path chosen, which should be one well-worn by the elephants, it is advisable to wait a few minutes and listen, to be certain that all is going on right: the stealthy advance then commences.

The first thing to be done is to look where the foot that you are going to advance can be placed. If any dried sticks or leaves are in the way, the greatest care must be taken, for the cracking or crushing of either would alarm the bush for miles. This may seem giving too much importance to the matter; but the case is thus: the animals that live here trust to their sense of hearing and smelling more than to their sight; a slight collateral circumstance, if I may so term it, also alarms their naturally suspicious nature. A buck may be forty yards from you unseen; your tread is heard; he takes the alarm, and bounds off, giving, as he goes, that warning whistle that every bush-hunter detests. Others on his line of retreat take up the panic, and, for I may say a mile at least, the crack caused by your incautious tread is, as it were, telegraphed. This watchfulness of the bucks, etc., easily accounts for theabsenceof game complained of by every tyro in bush-shooting. We will suppose that our advance has been conducted without a cracking or crushing of leaves or sticks, and we come to a branch which has been broken by elephants, and lies across the path. Here we have a very tough customer. If the branch is too low to creep under, we must move cautiously over it, stepping carefully between the small branches, and keeping our balance steadily on each leg in succession—the slightest blunder here would be serious. Another branch merely bent across the path, and a few feet from the ground, is slowly raised with one hand, while you pass under it; the next man behind receives it, passes, and, if the last of the party, allows it to regain its original position. As this latter proceeding cannot be done without a slight rustling of leaves, it is better to stand for two or three minutes to allow any suspicion that may have been raised to be forgotten by the animals near. We now take a peep round, and get a better view by stooping low down, the underwood and branches not being so thickly leaved close to the ground. Ah! something moved in that deep shadow; now for the Kaffir’s eyes; a signal with the finger, and Inyovu is on his knees, head low, and looking at the suspicious object, which is about fifty yards distant, partly hidden by the intervening stumps, and indistinct in the gloom of the bush. Inyovu, more by the movement of his lips and the expression of his countenance than by words, indicates it asimponze(buck). The gun, which for bush-work I always loaded with ball, as more rapid in its killing powers, is now brought to full cock, but not simply in the usual manner, for the click would be instantly responded to by the darting off of the victim. The cock must be held tight with the thumb while the trigger is pulled back; the cock then raised to the full, and trigger released: this is all done silently. The piece is now slowly raised, and the best place chosen between the branches for the path of the bullet, as a little twig will turn a ball. During this examination and preparation the buck is silently stealing away, lifting his legs high and slowly; a nice open space is seen clear of brambles, and the previous silence is broken, first by the report of the gun, and, secondly, by a “bah!” from the moving animal: a rush is made to the spot, and a red bush-buck, about the size of a roe-deer, but stouter, becomes the reward of the previous precautions. The usual operations are performed on him, and a slight rest is taken. For two people to sit down in the bush would be a very simple thing, and liable to no mistake, we should imagine; but it is not so. Inyovu won’t sit beside me on the old log, but, facing me, takes his position. “Why did you move, Inyovu?”

“Must not sit side by side in the bush; we only see half round. Sit face to face; you see one half, and I the other; then no animal approaches without being seen.” After this caution, I never again made such a cockney blunder with Kaffirs. Two or three powerful doses of snuff act like a glass of grog on my dark friend, and I find the stimulating effect of a pinch on myself; the day is intensely hot, and but little wind is stirring. Inyovu remarks that we must not go further down this path. I heard a buck just blow the alarm, and he must have “got our Wind.” The wind has changed a little, as, throwing some sand in the air, he watched the light particles float away in the direction that the path turned. It now became a question of how much meat was required, whether another buck was to pay tribute on that day. Three Kaffirs and four dogs to feed daily, besides a most infallible appetite on the part of myself, consumed a large quantity of flesh. If more venison were required, our first buck would be concealed in the fork of a tree, or other convenient place, to wait until called for; and the same stealthy work carried on until a sufficiency was obtained, when we would retrace our steps for those bucks that we had left hidden two or three days. A week can be passed in this way very pleasantly, for the charm of the bush never wears away; the mystery is always the same. The hot winds that sometimes blow on the flat or open country are scarcely felt under the sheltering branches; the heat of the sun is, in the bush, only occasionally annoying, while the scent of the wild flowers gives a most delicious perfume to the air. The brilliant plumage of the birds flashes occasionally across the path, and the busy, playful, little grey monkey amuses you with his threatening grimaces. The exercise also of the faculties that this sort of amusement necessarily entails, I believe, must lead to a higher state of health in both body and mind than is likely to result from the acquaintance of strong tobacco and brandy-and-water, that are sometimes the early companions of “Nothing-to-do” gentlemen, who are condemned to pass a certain number of days in the far south-east of Africa. A tropical forest is a nosegay of sweet-scented flowers; and as the traveller crushes a blossoming plant, or his horse disturbs the position of the creeper-hung branches, his course may long be traced by the extra perfume which these African weeds then send forth. Frequently, during my pursuit of wounded game, I have stopped, and turned my attention from the blood-stained footprints, which stir the savage half of man’s nature, and have become almost romantic, whilst regarding the grace and beauty of some vegetable gem, adorned with flowers of dazzling brilliancy and leaves of luxuriant growth.

My savage companions could not sympathise in the more refined feelings thus brought out. They could see but a “mùti” (tree or plant), and, as it was neither fit for food or physic, they were frequently disposed to consider me weak for examining a plant that, although as dirt to the savage, would still have obtained the prize at our best botanic fêtes. These barbarians could see nothing either to wonder at or to gratify them in a simple flower, and, like many a white man, they considered that, as it was not useful or good either for eating, drinking, or physicking, it must necessarily be beneath the notice of a wise man.

The wild honey that was found in the bush was very delicious. It was taken from the owners in the coolest manner; coolness, in fact, being the best defence.

While walking with my Kaffir, he would suddenly look up with a very knowing expression, and the usual “ether,” indicative of a satisfactory discovery; this discovery perhaps being nothing more than a common bee. It would be alarmed, and its line of flight watched; we would follow the direction that it took, and then look out for another bee; and so on until we were led up to the hive, which was generally situated in a hollow tree. The Kaffir then, gently inserting his arm, seizes hold of a large piece of the comb, and quietly withdraws his hand; he then walks quietly away a few yards with his prize. The bees, of course, fly all round him, and settle on his face and shoulders; he does not attempt to drive them off, but waits until they leave him. He then pouches the honey, wax, and eggs, and goes again to the hive to repeat the performance. If any of the bees get a squeeze with the hand or arm, they give a peculiar buzz, which seems to intimate to all other bees that they are to attack the intruders. Once on taking a bees’-nest, I was severely stung; they came and settled round my eyes, and I could with difficulty beat them off, and make my escape: it was all owing to my having squeezed a bee by accident as I was getting out the honey. Their stings, however, are not so severe as the English bee, as I suffered but little from these numerous stings. The middle of the day is generally chosen for taking a bees’-nest, as fewer are then at home.

Sometimes the position of a beehive is discovered by the aid of a honey-bird. This little creature appears to have sense beyond its feathered brethren; it apparently calls the traveller, and indicates that it wishes him to follow it, uttering perpetually a peculiar note, and flying from tree to tree, until it reaches the vicinity of the hive, when it gives a grand chorus of chirps. This useful little creature is, of course, rewarded with a share of the honey, and has the pickings from the hollow tree besides.

One frequently met numbers of the little grey monkeys in the bush. These mercurial little creatures are very amusing, and I often thought that they must have great fun with the elephants, the old-fashioned staid character of the latter being just the sort of butt that monkeys would choose upon which to play their practical jokes. A monkey can jump on and off an elephant’s back with very little fear of consequences, thanks to his wonderful activity; or can pull a tail or an ear, with but little chance of meeting punishment from the powerful trunk. I consider these monkeys as the regular and acknowledged harlequins of the bush, and never could bear the idea of shooting at one. I frequently had disputes with my Kaffirs on this subject, as they would get into a great state of excitement if there were a good chance of knocking over a monkey; the skin, when converted into long strips, being a very fashionable article to wear round the waist or ankles.

I made a very good double shot on one occasion, by which I killed a buck and doe of the black bush-buck. I obtained a snap shot at the buck as he was bounding over a bush, and dropped him; the lady came back to peep at what had detained her good man, and suffered for her curiosity. I was much in want of meat at the time for my Kaffirs and dogs, or would have sparedher.

In both these instances I found the advantage of using a bullet in place of shot, both animals dropping dead at once. If shot is used, at least half the bucks wounded escape for the time, and die miserably in some dark part of the forest, a feast for wolves and jackals. With a bullet-wound they rarely travel far, if hit anywhere about the shoulder.

Really one never tires of the forest-life, there is pleasure in even walking through its paths, made as they are by the African elephantine McAdam, and merely looking at the trees and shrubs, each and every one of which would be a gem in England. It is a conservatory on a Brobdignagian scale. Then, to a sportsman, there is the excitement: At which shall we have the first shot, a buck or an elephant, a buffalo or a guinea-fowl? or shall we walk the whole day and see nothing but a poisonous snake, wriggling away in the dead leaves? There is always something here to be seen that is interesting from viewing it in its natural state. The manis is frequently found in the bush; lots of little creatures, like weasels, and birds of most brilliant plumage. There may be no accounting for taste, but I would rather walk through an African forest than either up Cheapside, or even Regent-Street: the one is all real and true, the other artificial and in great part false, if we are to believe the chemical tests by which most of our groceries have so lately been exposed.

Twice in the Natal bush, and once across the Umganie, I killed three bucks in one day. When across the Umganie, I shot the first as he was in the open ground, and knocked him over with a bullet as he was running; the other two I killed in the bush. Monyosi’s brother was with me, and it was hard work carrying the venison home. A curious thing happened with one of the bucks that I killed on this same day. It heard us coming, but did not know exactly where we were, and jumped into the path about ten yards in front of me. I gave it a raking shot, to which it fell, but got up again, and was going away on three legs, when I dropped it with a bullet in the neck. I was much surprised that it rose after being struck with the first bullet, which ought to have gone right through it, and to have come out in the buck’s chest. I looked for the two bullet-holes, and saw but one. Upon opening it, the mystery was solved,—the bullet had broken against a bone, and was in a dozen pieces. For this fracturing I accounted by my attempt to harden the bullets for elephant-shooting by adding tin to the lead, and the tin, being the lighter metal, had floated to the surface of the lead, and some of my first bullets had been cast of nearly pure tin, instead of the right composition, and therefore were as brittle as glass. The right hardness is when the teeth can only just leave the least mark on the bullet: this gives about one-eighth tin as the right mixture.

My two Kaffirs returning with me one day to the Umganie Drift, we found the tide up, and the water consequently too deep to get across: it was about five feet in the deepest part.Thiswould not have prevented us from wading, as there was not much current running, and no sea on; but as great numbers of hungry sharks were on one side, and alligators on the other, we did not like to venture, the breadth being nearly two hundred yards. The alligator is a very unpleasant customer if you are in the water. An accident happened at the Drift, about two miles from the mouth of the Umganie, to an Englishman, a very worthy settler. He lived in a little cottage across the river, and was returning one evening with a supply of fresh meat, which he carried with his clothes over his head: the water was about breast-high. Suddenly, when about the middle of the river, he was seized round the waist by the jaws of an alligator. He dropped his meat, and caught hold of the animal’s head, calling at the same time to a Kaffir who was near. It was either the shout or the seizing that frightened the creature, for it let go its hold, and the poor man reached the opposite side of the river, where he fainted. The wounds he had received were very severe; he was three months before he could move about, and never again seemed the same man that he was before this mangling. I often saw an old Kaffir, near the Umganie, who had nearly the whole fleshy part of the thigh torn off by an alligator as he was one day crossing the river. My days and evenings of patient watching were not rewarded by a shot at this rapacious brute.

The alligator often devours its prey as it comes to drink. Slowly approaching some unsuspecting animal, it seizes it by the nose, and drags it under water; the weight of the alligator prevents the animal from raising its head; it is in consequence soon suffocated, and is dragged to a convenient retired place until required, or sufficiently high to suit the Epicurean taste of this scaly monster.

Besides the animals that I have already particularly mentioned, very good sport could be had with wild fowl of different kinds,—partridges, guinea-fowl, pheasants, and bustard. The large description of the latter, called by the colonists thepouw, is a magnificent bird, and is considered a great delicacy for the table. They have been shot weighing about twenty or thirty pounds. They walk about the newly-burnt grass picking up the fried worms and other animals brought to light by the fire. These birds being very difficult to approach, I generally rode round and round them, commencing my circle from a long distance, and gradually narrowing it, taking care, however, not to look at the birds. They are so keen-sighted, that, were you to look fixedly at them, even when distant, they would immediately fly away; whereas, if they consider that you do not see them, they will crouch down their heads and remain perfectly still, letting you circle up to them. Having always one barrel loaded with ball and the other with buckshot for this work, I was ready to take a long shot with the bullet, if there was any appearance of the birds taking an early flight. If, however, no signs of impatience were shown, and thepouwtried the hiding dodge, the plan was to get within eighty or one hundred yards, dismount, and run in towards the birds: they could not rise very quickly, and a dose of buckshot, as they opened their wings, was generally effective in stopping them.

Upon wounding a youngpouwone day, as I was riding home, I was opposed by a rival sporting gentleman, in the shape of an eagle. Thepouwrose nearly under my horse’s feet, but, as I was cantering, he got some distance off before I could pull up and fire; the dropping of both hind-legs told a tale of mortal wounds, and he sailed steadily down to a little clump of bushes. His unfortunate condition had not escaped the all-observant eye of a hungry eagle, who was sailing about over me; nearly closing his wings, he dashed after thepouw, caught him before he reached the ground, and flew away with him. To see one’s dinner thus walked off with was too much to bear quietly. I therefore galloped after the robber, who soon came to the ground, finding that the weight of his burden did not assist his aerial performances. I reached to within a hundred yards of him, when he again rose; taking a steady aim at him, I fired, and sent the bullet sufficiently close to astonish him, as he instantly dropped my property, and made off, leaving me in quiet possession.

There are a great many varieties of the eagle and hawk tribe in South Africa; some specimens are very small, others magnificent fellows. The wild, shrill scream of the osprey, or sea-eagle, always struck me as being very characteristic of this bird; there is a defiant and bold sort of sound in his voice, heard so plainly, while he, thousands of feet high, is almost, if not quite, invisible to the eye. Then coming down suddenly, like a bolt from heaven, he pounces on some victim, whom he clutches in his talons, and again soars aloft with a triumphant piercing shriek. I obtained a fine fresh mullet, on one occasion, from one of these feathered fishermen, whom I saw passing high overhead with his prize. I sent a bullet whistling by his ear, which made him drop the fish; it came down with a loud bang on the grass, and was still alive when I picked it up. The osprey sailed round two or three times, as though regretting the loss of such a good supper, and retraced his aerial course for another victim.

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