Chapter Eighteen.

Chapter Eighteen.Steeple-chase at D’Urban—The last day’s sport—The bar at Natal—Reach Table Bay—Impertinent “pike”-keeper—Chased by a policeman—Dishonest auctioneer—Saint Helena—Turtle-catching—Waterspouts—Cintra—Lisbon—Best weapons for the bush—Extra gun-stocks necessary—Recommendation to “used-up” individuals.A short time before I left D’Urban we had some races on the flat. The horses were not quite equal to those seen at Newmarket; but still, where time is not much noted by the watch, a good race is a good race, although the mile may take more than two minutes in running.The first race of the day was a mile, over four flights of hurdles, catch weight, any riders. Any riders they were too—as, at the first hurdle, only two out of six got over safely; two jockeys were sent clean out of their saddles, one horse came down on his head, and another refused. Before coming to the second flight, one of the two fortunate horses swerved and missed his fence, but his jock, still keeping on, took the remaining two, and won easily; the race was, however, given against him on account of the slip. All other horses being distanced, the one horse that had fairly gone the course, should, after a walk over, have taken the stakes; but a very powerful-looking jock on a distanced horse, insinuating that he would break any one’s head who said he was distanced, seemed to have some influence on the judge, who decided that this man’s horse was to be allowed to start in the second heat.The second heat was therefore merely a match, and the strong-armed man won; he shied his hat in the air and sent his horse home without walking over for the third heat. The owner of the other horse then claimed the stakes, and a regular row seemed the most likely result. I left the course before matters were decided, so do not know what decision this jockey club came to on the knotty question. I should here mention that all the disputing parties, as well as the riders, were English.I must say that I left the district of Natal with regret, or rather I should say, its sports, climate, and free life. My last day’s sport was good, for three bucks were shot, two of them being of the little blue buck species that I have before mentioned. I rode round my old haunts to bid them farewell, and also to look the last on several of my black sporting companions. The Kaffirs were all sorry to hear of my purposed departure, and wished to know where I was going and when I would return. Many of them were much puzzled when they tried to think how people found the road on the sea. They would say, “there were no trails or trees to mark the journey, and the waves were always altering their shapes.” It was difficult to explain to these unmathematical minds the mysteries of “sights,” latitude and longitude, or the use of logarithms. I managed to make them comprehend that by the stars and sun we understood our position; they could not quite make out the system, and seemed to think that there must beTakata(witchcraft) about it.I wondered, as I left these poor black heathens, whether I should ever again meet in civilised hands as much honesty, truth, and disinterested friendship amongst the uncultivated and ignorant; or whether I should again live for two years amongst a nation, who, although nearly ignorant of Christianity, and the direction towards the right that is given by a knowledge of its simple beauties, still possessed many of those good qualities that are rarely met in the most vaunted Christian countries. I embarked at Natal Bay in a little brigantine; an esteemed brother sportsman being also a passenger. A sulky impudent Dutchman, with his wife and a child, were also sharers of the tiny cabin.The bar at Natal is not disposed to be always favourable for ingress and egress. Sometimes nine and ten feet of water were found on it, and the next day but seven. So it happened when we were leaving; for on the day before our attempted departure, we were told there were quite nine feet, but on our getting near it we struck. Fortunately there was but a little swell on, but still the ship bumped very heavily, and seemed to bend under us like a wickerwork basket. The Dutchman, who was on deck; looked very white; he dived down below, and soon returned buttoning up his pockets. He looked at us and the skipper, then at the shore, distant about 200 yards, with an intermediate glance of horror at two or three large dorsal fins that were sticking up out of the water, indicative of ten feet long sharks which would not have objected to our attempting a swim. By the aid of the port-boat sent out ahead we managed to get pulled off the bar, and got through another passage, only just then known or practised, which ran for some distance along the coast, and turned out into the ocean beyond.We soon had a south-east breeze, set our studding-sails, and in seven days dropped our anchor in Table Bay; having completed the voyage in less than one-third of the time that it had taken me to do half the distance on the occasion of my upward journey.My first experiences of what is called civilisation were anything but agreeable. During my stay at Cape Town, while waiting the arrival of a ship to convey me to England, I frequently rode out in the country about Winberg and Rondebosh, and had to pass a turnpike on the road, kept by a good-natured old man who responded to the name of Peter. We used to give this old fellow a shilling or two, and let him keep the account of the number of times we rode through. He never lost by this arrangement, as I frequently gave him half-a-crown, which would have allowed me to pass nearly twenty times. It so happened, either from thoughtlessness or from having been spoilt by the wilds of Natal, where a stick of tobacco is wealth enough for a long journey, that I rode out one day without any money in my pocket. I discovered its absence when about a couple of miles from home; but knowing that I had a good balance to my credit at the turnpike, I did not trouble myself to return. Cantering on, I passed the gate without a thought, calling out as I went through, “All right, Peter!” and stooping down to show him who I was. I did not see Peter inside, but observed a stranger man come out as I was passing. I paid severalp.p.c.visits in the country, and returned towards Cape Town. Upon approaching the pike, I saw two men, as though watching me, standing each side of the gate. I, however, rode on, quite unconscious of the storm hanging over my head. Since my last ride through this pike, Peter had been turned out of his place, and a bankrupt butcher installed in office; of this change, however, I was ignorant at the time. As I was passing through the gate, one of the men rushed at me, caught the bridle of my horse, and said, “Come, pay the fare; you ain’t going to bilk me a second time!” I asked what he meant, telling him that the pikeman owed me at least a shilling. To this he responded, “You’re a blackguard cheat, and I’ll pull you off your horse.” Suiting the action to the word, he caught hold of my leg and tried to unseat me. I have ever given myself great credit for not having dropped my heavy handled whip on this rascal’s head at the time. The man who was standing by said, “No don’t strike the gentleman.” During the scene, a person, whom I had met but a day or two before at a private house, and who happened to be a man in authority over the police, came out from a building at the back of the turnpike. I told him the case, and that unfortunately I had no money to pay the penny, or twopence, turnpike. With the pomposity of office he pretended not to recognise me, but merely asserted as an axiom, that no one was allowed to ride through turnpikes without paying the fare. The man who had hold of my bridle seemed to consider the sentence as a verdict in his favour, and told me to “pay up without any more humbug.” The horse that I was riding happened to be a thoroughbred three year old, lent me by a friend, who had requested me to ride him on the snaffle as he possessed a very tender mouth—a great rarity in Cape horses. I was trying to explain that I would leave my name or my whip, or anything as a pledge for the penny, when the man loudly and angrily repeated his demand for the money, at the same time chucking the horse’s mouth with the sharp curb. To this the noble animal strongly objected, and turning round reared straight up. Now had this been my own horse I doubt if I could have borne it quietly, but as it was the property of a friend, such a proceeding was unbearable. The ex-butcher was about repeating his jerk, in the hopes, I have no doubt, of unseating me, when I struck him a blow on the wrist with the loaded end of my whip, that caused him at once to let go of the bridle. I gave the young one a squeeze, who, finding his head free, bounded clear of the attempt to stop him made by the second party. I was so enraged at the whole proceeding, and at having been placed in a false position by the absence of my purse, that I went on for a couple of hundred yards before I recovered my equanimity. I then found that I was riding away from home, and the only other road, which was a long way round, had also a turnpike at which I was not known. Turning my horse into the open furze ground at the side of the road, I made a sweep round across country, and was quietly making my way home, when I saw a policeman on a horse coming after me. Knowing that any attempt to argue the merits of the case would have been useless, I was even obliged to fly. I gave a shake of the reins, and the thoroughbred soon strode away from the blue-coated gentleman, and landed me safe in the castle at Cape Town. The oracular official, however, knew me perfectly well, and had it not happened that the good ship came on the very next day, and carried me out of Table Bay, I have no doubt that I should have seen my name figuring in the Cape Town paper under the head of “Police,” and that the crime would have been designated as, “Brutal Assault on a Turnpike-keeper, and disgraceful Attempt at Swindling, by a British Officer.”My other experience was a loss of money only; but still, when one is leaving a colony, and laying in a stock of provisions for a voyage, that commodity becomes singularly useful. I had two guns that, although in good order, I thought would be a drug in England, and therefore asked an auctioneer, to whom I had been introduced, how to turn them into cash. He said they would fetch a good price on the parade at auction, and he would sell them for me, recommending that they should go without reserve. I was hurried in packing up, etc., before leaving, so gave directions to my servant to take the two guns to the auctioneer, and wait for the money. He asked what price I would take, but, relying upon the auctioneer’s statement, I named no sum as a reserve. I thought that if I obtained anything like 15 or 20 pounds sterling, it would do—one gun originally costing thirty-five guineas, and the other I had bought from a Dutchman, giving a horse and a five pound note in exchange. Upon my servant coming back, I saw that he looked rather queer, and was soon made acquainted with the cause. My two guns, after paying the fees,realised thirty-six rix dollars, or about two pounds fifteen shillings of English money. There was no help for it now; but what added to my annoyance was seeing a man carrying my worst gun some hours afterwards, and upon asking him how he liked it, etc., found that he had given ten pounds for it to the very auctioneer who had sold (aliasbought) it.There are many men to be found in England who may pride themselves on knowing a thing or two. Let them go to South Africa, and they will find they are perfect babes. I mean not thus to vilify the whole body of the worthy Capeites, but merely theirmauvais sujets. It is my belief that a thorough Cape “schelm” would give at least two points in the rubber of roguery and beat the best English swindler living. The performances of many individuals in England during the last two years have reduced the odds greatly; and, if we progress as satisfactorily, we may expect shortly to have a very close and interesting match for excellence in this particular.On leaving Table Bay we had very fine sailing weather, and bowled down to Saint Helena in capital style. We stopped two days at this emperor’s prison, and had an opportunity of seeing Longwood and the country round. In the island some very pretty green valleys were to be seen, although the coast near the town of Saint James was high and rocky. We saw several sharks in the transparent water near, and shoals of small mackerel. It did not give me the idea of a very delightful residence, at least for any lengthened period, unless one happened to have a vast amount of resources within oneself. I thought it was about the last place I would choose in which to settle; but soon had occasion to change my mind, as a view and slight inspection of the island of Ascension made me regard Saint Helena as a perfect paradise in comparison.Ascension might well be compared to a Brobdignag coal-fire suddenly put out. All is black, or reddish-brown; only one spot of green is seen on the island, and this is distinguished as the Green Mountain. On walking inland, large bits of rock, that apparently weigh 100 pounds, may be kicked along like footballs; they are really but like cinders. The curiosities of the island are gannet and wide-awake fairs, so called from the enormous swarms of these two birds—a species of gull that there build and reside. The whole ground is covered with the eggs and guano of these birds, while they themselves fly around the heads of the visitor in thousands, uttering threatening cries. I found the wide-awakes anything but correctly named, as I knocked over two or three with my stick, and could have done so to many more had I wished. The great thing at Ascension is turtle; swarms are there found, and the commonest sailor has more than he can eat. Two large ponds, of about 100 feet square, are crammed with the fish, lying two and three deep; the turtle are regularly fed and looked after, ships being supplied with them when required. There are two or three lookout stations in the island, where men watch for the turtle to crawl on shore. Immediately that one is seen, a party is sent out who turn the unwieldy gentleman on his back, where he reposes, flapping his finny legs about until a cart takes him to the prison pond. We had about a dozen sent on board, and in a week were surfeited with turtle soup, turtle-steaks, turtle-curry, and turtles’ eggs; a plain bit of salt junk was for a change quite a treat. As we passed the line, I witnessed a strange collection of waterspouts that were gathered on the horizon near sunset; there were about seven of them nearly close together and moving with different velocities; they had the appearance of columns supporting the dark clouds of heaven. Sometimes they would seem to disperse, and then again, gathering solidity, stalk about like ocean genii.Our voyage was unmarked by sport. We had a strange death occur on board from chloroform—a man who had a disease of the lungs wishing to have his damaged finger taken off during the influence of chloroform. His wish was complied with, and death resulted. We were expecting to run into the channel and make a very rapid voyage, but were unfortunately met by a strong easterly wind that kept us beating about for a fortnight. Having 500 people on board and but a small supply of water, our position became rather critical; for we were reduced from a quart to a pint of water per man, and having no wine or beer to drink, were in doubt what would come next. Several of the women and children suffered severely from thirst, whilst the able-bodied men had to look at the salt provisions with a hungry forbearance, salt beef, tongues, etc., not being very thirst-quenching articles. I used to sit for a long time with my feet in a tub of sea-water, and fancied that I was not so thirsty in consequence. We tried to run for any port for succour, but upon attempting Vigo, were checked by a two days’ calm. A light breeze at length wafted us into the Tagus, and two hours afterwards we dropped anchor opposite Lisbon. I was very shortly up to my neck in a delicious cold bath of the purest fresh water, in one of the most comfortable rooms of the Braganza Hotel, when the buxom Mrs Dyson sent to know whether I would like the champagne iced for dinner. This was rolling in riches of luxury, after nearly starving of privation, and dying from thirst.We stayed several days at Lisbon, to enable the ship to be set to rights, and us to get fresh provisions; during the delay I visited Cintra, but I was not as much impressed with its glories and grandeur as Byron seems to have been. This I have no doubt arose from having just left Africa, where parts of the scenery are very similar (with the exception that monasteries are there unknown), only on a much larger scale. Cintra, therefore, looked to my eyes like a pocket edition or model of what I had been accustomed to for nearly three years. I was much struck with the beauty of many of the churches in Lisbon, and also interested with the schools at Belem. It struck me however as cruel, that in one large room, filled with boys, a window looked out into an orange-grove where the ripe fruit hung in clusters within six feet of the glass, against which the boys might flatten their noses in hungry imagination but could not approach nearer to the tempting mouthful; the same style of thing may however be frequently seen near a pastrycook’s shop in London.The opera was amusing—it was “Macbeth,” and the Portuguese were not quite “up” in Highland costume. I was shown over the arsenal by an officer who spoke English; it had very little in it. Feeling, however, that I ought to offer some compliment on its appearance, I remarked “that it was very clean.” He said, “Yes; clean of every thing!”The experimental squadron came into the Tagus while we were there, and caused great consternation in Lisbon by anchoring opposite Black Horse-square instead of lower down the river, thus committing some breach of etiquette or breaking a rule. I was sorry to leave Lisbon, for it was a nice place with a very fine climate, which after all is more than half the battle in this life. One is obliged to seek artificial amusements when every other day is wet, where a few hours of daylight are not regularly supplied, but frequently become mere black, foggy sort of things that are neither days nor nights. If we do get a little fine weather in England we are miserable from knowing that it will not last long, and any change must be for the worse. I am no grumbler, but I do like to see the sun at least 300 days out of the 365. I am fond of green trees, green fields, and even green men. I like to have room to move my elbows without digging them into somebody else’s ribs, and I like to be able to open my mouth and shout and have no hearers, instead of having an army jump down one’s throat if one merely opens his lips. It is a great comfort to be in a barbarous land where you shake hands with every man you meet (not often troubled by the bye), and can ask this man, blacker white, to do you a favour, and meet kindness from him, and probably receive an invitation to shoot or dine with him. It is better than residing in civilised countries, where your most intimate friend will only sometimes know you, near corners, because, perhaps, you don’t wear peg-top breeches or Noah’s ark coats. I know I am wrong in thinking so; but it all results from having lived with savages.In the sketches I have written, and the different sporting events that I have recorded, I have endeavoured to give to a novice some information that may be useful to him when he commences his career of sport in South Africa. It has always appeared to me that there was more detail required by people generally than is found in many of the high sporting works already written on South Africa. To fill in this detail has been my endeavour.I must impress upon all those who purpose a campaign against theferaeof Africa the necessity there is for using weapons of a large calibre; a gun with the common sixteen or fourteen-bore is a disheartening weapon when used against large game.It is difficult to say what causes instantaneous death—whether the hole that the bullet makes and the vessels it cuts in its course, or the shock that is given to the stricken animal by its momentum. I am disposed to think it is as much the latter cause as the former, having so frequently witnessed cases in which an ounce ball striking an animal has merely served to increase its pace, while a two-ounce bullet striking in the same part a similar animal would drop it dead. With elephants the size of the bullet is even more essential—the small ones as Gordon Cumming describes it, “merely telling on their constitutions.” It is almost useless to recommend a particular sort of gun, as people generally choose for themselves after all. Were I again to visit Africa, I would take a double-barrelled smooth bore of ten or eight to the pound, having strength and plain good workmanship as its only recommendations. A double-barrelled rifle of about the same calibre would be useful, taking care to have two stocks for each gun, and that the barrels could fit into either stock. I have more than once suffered from smashed stocks, and they are not easily replaced in Africa. A Colt’s revolver would also be a very useful weapon, especially when used in the saddle against elands. It might be fired when going at speed, and with greater accuracy than could be attained, under similar conditions, by an ordinary gun.When I speak of the game in the immediate vicinity of the two towns of D’Urban and Pietermaritzburg, I refer to 1849 and ’50, but I am given to understand that there has not been very much decrease since that time. The emigrant has other work to accomplish, and cannot be always shooting. A great deal of hard work must also be gone through before success in sport is certain, and sportsmen therefore are more scarce than would be at first considered probable. During the first three months that I tried my hand at buck shooting, I shot only five. After twelve months’ experience, my bag, during ten weeks, was forty-seven; and I had refused several certain shots at antelopes during that time, as I was on the fresh spoor of buffaloes and elephants, and did not wish to disturb the bush.Far in the interior the game is unlimited in quantity, and the numbers are quite correctly spoken of by Harris, Cumming, and other sportsmen. Any one anxious for pure slaughter may there indulge his fancy to any extent; but I think that the amount of slain is no criterion of the amount of sport.The sports of Africa are excellent as remedies against attacks of ennui. Should any gentleman feel that he has finished everything in Europe, and is disposed for sport and excitement, let him at once give, up white kids and patents, and take to skin shoes and leather breeches; lay out a couple of hundreds in rifles, saddles, and powder, and start for the wilds of South Africa. Thirty days to Australia is now talked about, therefore twenty to the Cape ought to be work easy enough. That man must be composed of strange stuff who does not find a new pleasure in stalking through tropical forests, well stocked with elephants and other large game; or in riding over plains sprinkled with thousands of magnificent antelopes; in dodging the charge of an angry rhinoceros; or escaping the rush of a troop of elephants.There will be the excitement of midnight hazard, for ivory is plentiful in Africa, although only in the rough at present, while lions’ teeth may be looked upon as the “bones,” and are nearly as fatal. And if the traveller is not wide awake, the lion will carry off the stakes to a certainty.A man who has passed through an African shooting campaign, will find that his health is improved; that he is better able to help himself, has a greater trust in his natural gifts, and that trifles cease to annoy him. He will return to England without having lost much of his taste for his native sports. He will enter fully into a five-and-thirty minutes’ run across a country at a pace that weeds the mob, or will take his quiet station near the rippling trout-stream, with just the same gusto as before his South-African tour.My parting advice to all sportsmen is—“Try a shooting trip for a year in the bush, and on the plains of South Africa, the true fairy-land of sport.”

A short time before I left D’Urban we had some races on the flat. The horses were not quite equal to those seen at Newmarket; but still, where time is not much noted by the watch, a good race is a good race, although the mile may take more than two minutes in running.

The first race of the day was a mile, over four flights of hurdles, catch weight, any riders. Any riders they were too—as, at the first hurdle, only two out of six got over safely; two jockeys were sent clean out of their saddles, one horse came down on his head, and another refused. Before coming to the second flight, one of the two fortunate horses swerved and missed his fence, but his jock, still keeping on, took the remaining two, and won easily; the race was, however, given against him on account of the slip. All other horses being distanced, the one horse that had fairly gone the course, should, after a walk over, have taken the stakes; but a very powerful-looking jock on a distanced horse, insinuating that he would break any one’s head who said he was distanced, seemed to have some influence on the judge, who decided that this man’s horse was to be allowed to start in the second heat.

The second heat was therefore merely a match, and the strong-armed man won; he shied his hat in the air and sent his horse home without walking over for the third heat. The owner of the other horse then claimed the stakes, and a regular row seemed the most likely result. I left the course before matters were decided, so do not know what decision this jockey club came to on the knotty question. I should here mention that all the disputing parties, as well as the riders, were English.

I must say that I left the district of Natal with regret, or rather I should say, its sports, climate, and free life. My last day’s sport was good, for three bucks were shot, two of them being of the little blue buck species that I have before mentioned. I rode round my old haunts to bid them farewell, and also to look the last on several of my black sporting companions. The Kaffirs were all sorry to hear of my purposed departure, and wished to know where I was going and when I would return. Many of them were much puzzled when they tried to think how people found the road on the sea. They would say, “there were no trails or trees to mark the journey, and the waves were always altering their shapes.” It was difficult to explain to these unmathematical minds the mysteries of “sights,” latitude and longitude, or the use of logarithms. I managed to make them comprehend that by the stars and sun we understood our position; they could not quite make out the system, and seemed to think that there must beTakata(witchcraft) about it.

I wondered, as I left these poor black heathens, whether I should ever again meet in civilised hands as much honesty, truth, and disinterested friendship amongst the uncultivated and ignorant; or whether I should again live for two years amongst a nation, who, although nearly ignorant of Christianity, and the direction towards the right that is given by a knowledge of its simple beauties, still possessed many of those good qualities that are rarely met in the most vaunted Christian countries. I embarked at Natal Bay in a little brigantine; an esteemed brother sportsman being also a passenger. A sulky impudent Dutchman, with his wife and a child, were also sharers of the tiny cabin.

The bar at Natal is not disposed to be always favourable for ingress and egress. Sometimes nine and ten feet of water were found on it, and the next day but seven. So it happened when we were leaving; for on the day before our attempted departure, we were told there were quite nine feet, but on our getting near it we struck. Fortunately there was but a little swell on, but still the ship bumped very heavily, and seemed to bend under us like a wickerwork basket. The Dutchman, who was on deck; looked very white; he dived down below, and soon returned buttoning up his pockets. He looked at us and the skipper, then at the shore, distant about 200 yards, with an intermediate glance of horror at two or three large dorsal fins that were sticking up out of the water, indicative of ten feet long sharks which would not have objected to our attempting a swim. By the aid of the port-boat sent out ahead we managed to get pulled off the bar, and got through another passage, only just then known or practised, which ran for some distance along the coast, and turned out into the ocean beyond.

We soon had a south-east breeze, set our studding-sails, and in seven days dropped our anchor in Table Bay; having completed the voyage in less than one-third of the time that it had taken me to do half the distance on the occasion of my upward journey.

My first experiences of what is called civilisation were anything but agreeable. During my stay at Cape Town, while waiting the arrival of a ship to convey me to England, I frequently rode out in the country about Winberg and Rondebosh, and had to pass a turnpike on the road, kept by a good-natured old man who responded to the name of Peter. We used to give this old fellow a shilling or two, and let him keep the account of the number of times we rode through. He never lost by this arrangement, as I frequently gave him half-a-crown, which would have allowed me to pass nearly twenty times. It so happened, either from thoughtlessness or from having been spoilt by the wilds of Natal, where a stick of tobacco is wealth enough for a long journey, that I rode out one day without any money in my pocket. I discovered its absence when about a couple of miles from home; but knowing that I had a good balance to my credit at the turnpike, I did not trouble myself to return. Cantering on, I passed the gate without a thought, calling out as I went through, “All right, Peter!” and stooping down to show him who I was. I did not see Peter inside, but observed a stranger man come out as I was passing. I paid severalp.p.c.visits in the country, and returned towards Cape Town. Upon approaching the pike, I saw two men, as though watching me, standing each side of the gate. I, however, rode on, quite unconscious of the storm hanging over my head. Since my last ride through this pike, Peter had been turned out of his place, and a bankrupt butcher installed in office; of this change, however, I was ignorant at the time. As I was passing through the gate, one of the men rushed at me, caught the bridle of my horse, and said, “Come, pay the fare; you ain’t going to bilk me a second time!” I asked what he meant, telling him that the pikeman owed me at least a shilling. To this he responded, “You’re a blackguard cheat, and I’ll pull you off your horse.” Suiting the action to the word, he caught hold of my leg and tried to unseat me. I have ever given myself great credit for not having dropped my heavy handled whip on this rascal’s head at the time. The man who was standing by said, “No don’t strike the gentleman.” During the scene, a person, whom I had met but a day or two before at a private house, and who happened to be a man in authority over the police, came out from a building at the back of the turnpike. I told him the case, and that unfortunately I had no money to pay the penny, or twopence, turnpike. With the pomposity of office he pretended not to recognise me, but merely asserted as an axiom, that no one was allowed to ride through turnpikes without paying the fare. The man who had hold of my bridle seemed to consider the sentence as a verdict in his favour, and told me to “pay up without any more humbug.” The horse that I was riding happened to be a thoroughbred three year old, lent me by a friend, who had requested me to ride him on the snaffle as he possessed a very tender mouth—a great rarity in Cape horses. I was trying to explain that I would leave my name or my whip, or anything as a pledge for the penny, when the man loudly and angrily repeated his demand for the money, at the same time chucking the horse’s mouth with the sharp curb. To this the noble animal strongly objected, and turning round reared straight up. Now had this been my own horse I doubt if I could have borne it quietly, but as it was the property of a friend, such a proceeding was unbearable. The ex-butcher was about repeating his jerk, in the hopes, I have no doubt, of unseating me, when I struck him a blow on the wrist with the loaded end of my whip, that caused him at once to let go of the bridle. I gave the young one a squeeze, who, finding his head free, bounded clear of the attempt to stop him made by the second party. I was so enraged at the whole proceeding, and at having been placed in a false position by the absence of my purse, that I went on for a couple of hundred yards before I recovered my equanimity. I then found that I was riding away from home, and the only other road, which was a long way round, had also a turnpike at which I was not known. Turning my horse into the open furze ground at the side of the road, I made a sweep round across country, and was quietly making my way home, when I saw a policeman on a horse coming after me. Knowing that any attempt to argue the merits of the case would have been useless, I was even obliged to fly. I gave a shake of the reins, and the thoroughbred soon strode away from the blue-coated gentleman, and landed me safe in the castle at Cape Town. The oracular official, however, knew me perfectly well, and had it not happened that the good ship came on the very next day, and carried me out of Table Bay, I have no doubt that I should have seen my name figuring in the Cape Town paper under the head of “Police,” and that the crime would have been designated as, “Brutal Assault on a Turnpike-keeper, and disgraceful Attempt at Swindling, by a British Officer.”

My other experience was a loss of money only; but still, when one is leaving a colony, and laying in a stock of provisions for a voyage, that commodity becomes singularly useful. I had two guns that, although in good order, I thought would be a drug in England, and therefore asked an auctioneer, to whom I had been introduced, how to turn them into cash. He said they would fetch a good price on the parade at auction, and he would sell them for me, recommending that they should go without reserve. I was hurried in packing up, etc., before leaving, so gave directions to my servant to take the two guns to the auctioneer, and wait for the money. He asked what price I would take, but, relying upon the auctioneer’s statement, I named no sum as a reserve. I thought that if I obtained anything like 15 or 20 pounds sterling, it would do—one gun originally costing thirty-five guineas, and the other I had bought from a Dutchman, giving a horse and a five pound note in exchange. Upon my servant coming back, I saw that he looked rather queer, and was soon made acquainted with the cause. My two guns, after paying the fees,realised thirty-six rix dollars, or about two pounds fifteen shillings of English money. There was no help for it now; but what added to my annoyance was seeing a man carrying my worst gun some hours afterwards, and upon asking him how he liked it, etc., found that he had given ten pounds for it to the very auctioneer who had sold (aliasbought) it.

There are many men to be found in England who may pride themselves on knowing a thing or two. Let them go to South Africa, and they will find they are perfect babes. I mean not thus to vilify the whole body of the worthy Capeites, but merely theirmauvais sujets. It is my belief that a thorough Cape “schelm” would give at least two points in the rubber of roguery and beat the best English swindler living. The performances of many individuals in England during the last two years have reduced the odds greatly; and, if we progress as satisfactorily, we may expect shortly to have a very close and interesting match for excellence in this particular.

On leaving Table Bay we had very fine sailing weather, and bowled down to Saint Helena in capital style. We stopped two days at this emperor’s prison, and had an opportunity of seeing Longwood and the country round. In the island some very pretty green valleys were to be seen, although the coast near the town of Saint James was high and rocky. We saw several sharks in the transparent water near, and shoals of small mackerel. It did not give me the idea of a very delightful residence, at least for any lengthened period, unless one happened to have a vast amount of resources within oneself. I thought it was about the last place I would choose in which to settle; but soon had occasion to change my mind, as a view and slight inspection of the island of Ascension made me regard Saint Helena as a perfect paradise in comparison.

Ascension might well be compared to a Brobdignag coal-fire suddenly put out. All is black, or reddish-brown; only one spot of green is seen on the island, and this is distinguished as the Green Mountain. On walking inland, large bits of rock, that apparently weigh 100 pounds, may be kicked along like footballs; they are really but like cinders. The curiosities of the island are gannet and wide-awake fairs, so called from the enormous swarms of these two birds—a species of gull that there build and reside. The whole ground is covered with the eggs and guano of these birds, while they themselves fly around the heads of the visitor in thousands, uttering threatening cries. I found the wide-awakes anything but correctly named, as I knocked over two or three with my stick, and could have done so to many more had I wished. The great thing at Ascension is turtle; swarms are there found, and the commonest sailor has more than he can eat. Two large ponds, of about 100 feet square, are crammed with the fish, lying two and three deep; the turtle are regularly fed and looked after, ships being supplied with them when required. There are two or three lookout stations in the island, where men watch for the turtle to crawl on shore. Immediately that one is seen, a party is sent out who turn the unwieldy gentleman on his back, where he reposes, flapping his finny legs about until a cart takes him to the prison pond. We had about a dozen sent on board, and in a week were surfeited with turtle soup, turtle-steaks, turtle-curry, and turtles’ eggs; a plain bit of salt junk was for a change quite a treat. As we passed the line, I witnessed a strange collection of waterspouts that were gathered on the horizon near sunset; there were about seven of them nearly close together and moving with different velocities; they had the appearance of columns supporting the dark clouds of heaven. Sometimes they would seem to disperse, and then again, gathering solidity, stalk about like ocean genii.

Our voyage was unmarked by sport. We had a strange death occur on board from chloroform—a man who had a disease of the lungs wishing to have his damaged finger taken off during the influence of chloroform. His wish was complied with, and death resulted. We were expecting to run into the channel and make a very rapid voyage, but were unfortunately met by a strong easterly wind that kept us beating about for a fortnight. Having 500 people on board and but a small supply of water, our position became rather critical; for we were reduced from a quart to a pint of water per man, and having no wine or beer to drink, were in doubt what would come next. Several of the women and children suffered severely from thirst, whilst the able-bodied men had to look at the salt provisions with a hungry forbearance, salt beef, tongues, etc., not being very thirst-quenching articles. I used to sit for a long time with my feet in a tub of sea-water, and fancied that I was not so thirsty in consequence. We tried to run for any port for succour, but upon attempting Vigo, were checked by a two days’ calm. A light breeze at length wafted us into the Tagus, and two hours afterwards we dropped anchor opposite Lisbon. I was very shortly up to my neck in a delicious cold bath of the purest fresh water, in one of the most comfortable rooms of the Braganza Hotel, when the buxom Mrs Dyson sent to know whether I would like the champagne iced for dinner. This was rolling in riches of luxury, after nearly starving of privation, and dying from thirst.

We stayed several days at Lisbon, to enable the ship to be set to rights, and us to get fresh provisions; during the delay I visited Cintra, but I was not as much impressed with its glories and grandeur as Byron seems to have been. This I have no doubt arose from having just left Africa, where parts of the scenery are very similar (with the exception that monasteries are there unknown), only on a much larger scale. Cintra, therefore, looked to my eyes like a pocket edition or model of what I had been accustomed to for nearly three years. I was much struck with the beauty of many of the churches in Lisbon, and also interested with the schools at Belem. It struck me however as cruel, that in one large room, filled with boys, a window looked out into an orange-grove where the ripe fruit hung in clusters within six feet of the glass, against which the boys might flatten their noses in hungry imagination but could not approach nearer to the tempting mouthful; the same style of thing may however be frequently seen near a pastrycook’s shop in London.

The opera was amusing—it was “Macbeth,” and the Portuguese were not quite “up” in Highland costume. I was shown over the arsenal by an officer who spoke English; it had very little in it. Feeling, however, that I ought to offer some compliment on its appearance, I remarked “that it was very clean.” He said, “Yes; clean of every thing!”

The experimental squadron came into the Tagus while we were there, and caused great consternation in Lisbon by anchoring opposite Black Horse-square instead of lower down the river, thus committing some breach of etiquette or breaking a rule. I was sorry to leave Lisbon, for it was a nice place with a very fine climate, which after all is more than half the battle in this life. One is obliged to seek artificial amusements when every other day is wet, where a few hours of daylight are not regularly supplied, but frequently become mere black, foggy sort of things that are neither days nor nights. If we do get a little fine weather in England we are miserable from knowing that it will not last long, and any change must be for the worse. I am no grumbler, but I do like to see the sun at least 300 days out of the 365. I am fond of green trees, green fields, and even green men. I like to have room to move my elbows without digging them into somebody else’s ribs, and I like to be able to open my mouth and shout and have no hearers, instead of having an army jump down one’s throat if one merely opens his lips. It is a great comfort to be in a barbarous land where you shake hands with every man you meet (not often troubled by the bye), and can ask this man, blacker white, to do you a favour, and meet kindness from him, and probably receive an invitation to shoot or dine with him. It is better than residing in civilised countries, where your most intimate friend will only sometimes know you, near corners, because, perhaps, you don’t wear peg-top breeches or Noah’s ark coats. I know I am wrong in thinking so; but it all results from having lived with savages.

In the sketches I have written, and the different sporting events that I have recorded, I have endeavoured to give to a novice some information that may be useful to him when he commences his career of sport in South Africa. It has always appeared to me that there was more detail required by people generally than is found in many of the high sporting works already written on South Africa. To fill in this detail has been my endeavour.

I must impress upon all those who purpose a campaign against theferaeof Africa the necessity there is for using weapons of a large calibre; a gun with the common sixteen or fourteen-bore is a disheartening weapon when used against large game.

It is difficult to say what causes instantaneous death—whether the hole that the bullet makes and the vessels it cuts in its course, or the shock that is given to the stricken animal by its momentum. I am disposed to think it is as much the latter cause as the former, having so frequently witnessed cases in which an ounce ball striking an animal has merely served to increase its pace, while a two-ounce bullet striking in the same part a similar animal would drop it dead. With elephants the size of the bullet is even more essential—the small ones as Gordon Cumming describes it, “merely telling on their constitutions.” It is almost useless to recommend a particular sort of gun, as people generally choose for themselves after all. Were I again to visit Africa, I would take a double-barrelled smooth bore of ten or eight to the pound, having strength and plain good workmanship as its only recommendations. A double-barrelled rifle of about the same calibre would be useful, taking care to have two stocks for each gun, and that the barrels could fit into either stock. I have more than once suffered from smashed stocks, and they are not easily replaced in Africa. A Colt’s revolver would also be a very useful weapon, especially when used in the saddle against elands. It might be fired when going at speed, and with greater accuracy than could be attained, under similar conditions, by an ordinary gun.

When I speak of the game in the immediate vicinity of the two towns of D’Urban and Pietermaritzburg, I refer to 1849 and ’50, but I am given to understand that there has not been very much decrease since that time. The emigrant has other work to accomplish, and cannot be always shooting. A great deal of hard work must also be gone through before success in sport is certain, and sportsmen therefore are more scarce than would be at first considered probable. During the first three months that I tried my hand at buck shooting, I shot only five. After twelve months’ experience, my bag, during ten weeks, was forty-seven; and I had refused several certain shots at antelopes during that time, as I was on the fresh spoor of buffaloes and elephants, and did not wish to disturb the bush.

Far in the interior the game is unlimited in quantity, and the numbers are quite correctly spoken of by Harris, Cumming, and other sportsmen. Any one anxious for pure slaughter may there indulge his fancy to any extent; but I think that the amount of slain is no criterion of the amount of sport.

The sports of Africa are excellent as remedies against attacks of ennui. Should any gentleman feel that he has finished everything in Europe, and is disposed for sport and excitement, let him at once give, up white kids and patents, and take to skin shoes and leather breeches; lay out a couple of hundreds in rifles, saddles, and powder, and start for the wilds of South Africa. Thirty days to Australia is now talked about, therefore twenty to the Cape ought to be work easy enough. That man must be composed of strange stuff who does not find a new pleasure in stalking through tropical forests, well stocked with elephants and other large game; or in riding over plains sprinkled with thousands of magnificent antelopes; in dodging the charge of an angry rhinoceros; or escaping the rush of a troop of elephants.

There will be the excitement of midnight hazard, for ivory is plentiful in Africa, although only in the rough at present, while lions’ teeth may be looked upon as the “bones,” and are nearly as fatal. And if the traveller is not wide awake, the lion will carry off the stakes to a certainty.

A man who has passed through an African shooting campaign, will find that his health is improved; that he is better able to help himself, has a greater trust in his natural gifts, and that trifles cease to annoy him. He will return to England without having lost much of his taste for his native sports. He will enter fully into a five-and-thirty minutes’ run across a country at a pace that weeds the mob, or will take his quiet station near the rippling trout-stream, with just the same gusto as before his South-African tour.

My parting advice to all sportsmen is—“Try a shooting trip for a year in the bush, and on the plains of South Africa, the true fairy-land of sport.”

Appendix.The Kaffir words given below may be useful to enable some visitor to South Africa to make known to the Kaffirs a few of his wants.I will not vouch for the correctness of the grammar of which I have made use, but the Kaffirs will understand what may be required from even these sentences.Each word ought to be pronounced as it is written, the last syllable but one being always rested on longer than the others. Thea,e, andi, are pronounced as in French. The plural is in general formed by prefixingama, and dropping in some cases the first syllable; as,indoda, a man;amadoda, men;ihashi, a horse;amahaski, horses. The numerals are more easily explained by holding up the fingers,—shumibeing ten;amashumi, tens. Thirty would be explained as tens, three,amashumi m’tatu, or by opening and shutting the hands three times.The click which is used, by the Kaffirs need not be attempted by the beginner in the language,—there are so very few words which require the click, and these few are quite easily understood without it. The ambitious linguist frequently renders himself quite unintelligible to a Kaffir, in consequence of clicking with every word, whether this click is required or not. It is far better to pronounce distinctly the simple word, than to attempt to adorn it by a performance which, as I have before remarked, cannot be perfectly accomplished until the individual has lost nearly all his teeth.To any person who may wish to advance in the Kaffir language I submit a conjugated verb as a model; but I generally found thatile, placed at the end of the infinitive mood, was quite understood by the Kaffirs for the past tense: as,uku hamba, to go;hambile, gone;tanda, to love;tandile, have loved, etc.Ukupoza, To Drink.Present.Singular.Plural.1. Diapoza, I drink.1. Siapoza, we drink.2. Uapoza, thou drinkest.2. Neapoza, ye drink.3. Eapoza, he drinks.3. Paiapoza, they drink.Imperfect.Singular.Plural.1. Dibendipoza, I drank.1. Sibesipoza, we drank.2. Ubenupoza, thou drankest.2. Nebenepoza, ye drank.3. Ebenepoza, he drank.3. Pebepepoza, they drank.Perfect.Singular.Plural.1. Dabandapoza, I have drunk.1. Sabesapoza, we have drunk.2. Uabauapoza, thou hast drunk.2. Nabenapoza, ye have drunk.3. Eabaeapoza, he has drunk.3. Pabepapoza, they have drunk.Pluperfect.Singular.Plural.1. Dikandapoza, I had drunk.1. Sikasapoza, we had drunk.2. Ukauapoza, thou hadst drunk.2. Nekanapoza, ye had drunk.3. Ekeapoza, he had drunk.3. Pakapapoza, they had drunk.Future.Singular.Plural.1. Dopoza, I shall drink.1. Sopoza, we shall drink.2. Uopoza, thou shalt drink.2. Nopoza, ye shall drink.3. Eopoza, he shall drink.3. Popoza, they shall drink.Potential.Singular.Plural.1. Dingapoza, I may, can, or might drink.1. Singapoza, we may, can, might drink.2. Ungapoza, thou, etc.2. Nangapoza, ye may, etc.3. Engapoza, he, etc.3. Pangapoza, they may, etc.Imperative.Singular.Plural.1. Mandipoza, let me drink.1. Masipoza, let us drink.2. Maupoza, do thou drink.2. Manipoza, do ye drink.3. Maepoza, let him drink.3. Mabipoza, let them drink.Dipozana, do I drink?Eapozana, does he drink? etc. etc.Andipoza, I drink not.Akupoza, thou drinkest not.Asipoza, we drink not.Nosipoza, ye drink not.Pakapoza, they drink not.Perfect negative.Andipozanga, I have not drunk.A verb receives a prefix corresponding with the first letter or syllable of its nominative; as,Poza, to drink;Inja ipoza, the dog drinks.The adjectives and adverbs undergo the same variations, partaking of the prefixes of the substantives with which they may be conjoined; the nouns form diminutives, thus:—Indoda, a man.Intombi, a maid.Indodana, a little man.Intombazana, a little girl.Inkozi, a chief.Inkosana, a young chief, or a little chief.Di, I.Wena, you.Yena, he.Tina, we.Zona, they.CarboorHi, no.Er werorTar bo, yes.Saca bona, a salutation (Good morning).Hambani gathly or Solaguthly, Good bye.Uya pina? Where are you going?On vel àpi? Where have you come from!Uku nika, to give.Uku hamba, to go.Uku yenza, to do.Uku zapa, to come.Uku bìza, to call.Uku pòza, to drink.Uku zìsa, to bring.Uku ejla, to eat.Uku fùna, to want.Uku bona, to see.Uku èswa, to hear.Uku tànda, to like.Uku sìka, to cut.Uku hlànza, to clean.Uku landèla, to follow.Uku tènga, to buy.Uku zingèla, to hunt.Uku sebènza, to work.Uku kulùma, to talk.Uku quela, to ride.Indòda, a man.Umfàzi, a woman.Injlu, a house.Amànzi, water.Umlìlo, fire.Mùti, a tree, or medicine.Injlòvu, an elephant.Imvùbu, a hippopotamus.Inyàti or Inthùmba, a buffalo.Impòphu, an eland.Umsiki, a reitbok.Impenzi, a duiker.Ihàshi, a horse.Inja, a dog.Imfena, a baboon.Inkau, a monkey.Ingwenie, an alligator.Inklànzi, a fish.Inyoni, a bird.Inyamazàn, small game or bucks.Lenjlela, a road or path.Namhla, to-day.Izòlo, yesterday.Goomso, to-morrow.Goomso futi, to-morrow again, the day after to-morrow.Futi, again.Izolo futi, the day before yesterday.Umlungo, a white man.Isibum, a gun.Umcizi, powder.Inyozi, honey.N’wela, a waggon.Umculu, great.N’càni, little.Cachema, fast.Gathly, slow.Ubìsi, sweet milk.Amàsi, sour milk.Bulala, to wound or shoot.Ipe, where.Kona, there.Pezulu, up or above.Imazi, a cow.Pantsi, below or down.Inyoka, a snake.E’àm, mine.Incwade, a written letter or note.E’arko, yours.M’nyama, black.Egwi, snuff.M’lope, white.Ilanga, the sun.Ebomvu, red.Inyanga, the moon, a month.Inkomo, cattle.Immali, money.By joining some of these words together may be formed many useful sentences; thus:—Yenza umlilo, Make a fire.Ziza amanzi nàmi, Bring water to me.Dia funa ihashi am, I want my horse.Dia funa uku zingela ama injlovu, I want to hunt elephants.Mäuzapa nami goomso uku sebenza, Come to me to-morrow to work.Dia funa uku tenga zinkomo, I want to buy cattle.Mongàpi? How many?Ishumi, Ten.Ubanina? What is the name of?Ubanina amasondo lè? What is the name of these footmarks?Engàzi, I don’t know.Chela menà, Tell me.E-zàpa wena, Come here you.Hamba kona, Go there.

The Kaffir words given below may be useful to enable some visitor to South Africa to make known to the Kaffirs a few of his wants.

I will not vouch for the correctness of the grammar of which I have made use, but the Kaffirs will understand what may be required from even these sentences.

Each word ought to be pronounced as it is written, the last syllable but one being always rested on longer than the others. Thea,e, andi, are pronounced as in French. The plural is in general formed by prefixingama, and dropping in some cases the first syllable; as,indoda, a man;amadoda, men;ihashi, a horse;amahaski, horses. The numerals are more easily explained by holding up the fingers,—shumibeing ten;amashumi, tens. Thirty would be explained as tens, three,amashumi m’tatu, or by opening and shutting the hands three times.

The click which is used, by the Kaffirs need not be attempted by the beginner in the language,—there are so very few words which require the click, and these few are quite easily understood without it. The ambitious linguist frequently renders himself quite unintelligible to a Kaffir, in consequence of clicking with every word, whether this click is required or not. It is far better to pronounce distinctly the simple word, than to attempt to adorn it by a performance which, as I have before remarked, cannot be perfectly accomplished until the individual has lost nearly all his teeth.

To any person who may wish to advance in the Kaffir language I submit a conjugated verb as a model; but I generally found thatile, placed at the end of the infinitive mood, was quite understood by the Kaffirs for the past tense: as,uku hamba, to go;hambile, gone;tanda, to love;tandile, have loved, etc.

A verb receives a prefix corresponding with the first letter or syllable of its nominative; as,Poza, to drink;Inja ipoza, the dog drinks.

The adjectives and adverbs undergo the same variations, partaking of the prefixes of the substantives with which they may be conjoined; the nouns form diminutives, thus:—

Indoda, a man.Intombi, a maid.Indodana, a little man.Intombazana, a little girl.Inkozi, a chief.Inkosana, a young chief, or a little chief.Di, I.Wena, you.Yena, he.Tina, we.Zona, they.CarboorHi, no.Er werorTar bo, yes.Saca bona, a salutation (Good morning).Hambani gathly or Solaguthly, Good bye.Uya pina? Where are you going?On vel àpi? Where have you come from!Uku nika, to give.Uku hamba, to go.Uku yenza, to do.Uku zapa, to come.Uku bìza, to call.Uku pòza, to drink.Uku zìsa, to bring.Uku ejla, to eat.Uku fùna, to want.Uku bona, to see.Uku èswa, to hear.Uku tànda, to like.Uku sìka, to cut.Uku hlànza, to clean.Uku landèla, to follow.Uku tènga, to buy.Uku zingèla, to hunt.Uku sebènza, to work.Uku kulùma, to talk.Uku quela, to ride.Indòda, a man.Umfàzi, a woman.Injlu, a house.Amànzi, water.Umlìlo, fire.Mùti, a tree, or medicine.Injlòvu, an elephant.Imvùbu, a hippopotamus.Inyàti or Inthùmba, a buffalo.Impòphu, an eland.Umsiki, a reitbok.Impenzi, a duiker.Ihàshi, a horse.Inja, a dog.Imfena, a baboon.Inkau, a monkey.Ingwenie, an alligator.Inklànzi, a fish.Inyoni, a bird.Inyamazàn, small game or bucks.Lenjlela, a road or path.Namhla, to-day.Izòlo, yesterday.Goomso, to-morrow.Goomso futi, to-morrow again, the day after to-morrow.Futi, again.Izolo futi, the day before yesterday.Umlungo, a white man.Isibum, a gun.Umcizi, powder.Inyozi, honey.N’wela, a waggon.Umculu, great.N’càni, little.Cachema, fast.Gathly, slow.Ubìsi, sweet milk.Amàsi, sour milk.Bulala, to wound or shoot.Ipe, where.Kona, there.Pezulu, up or above.Imazi, a cow.Pantsi, below or down.Inyoka, a snake.E’àm, mine.Incwade, a written letter or note.E’arko, yours.M’nyama, black.Egwi, snuff.M’lope, white.Ilanga, the sun.Ebomvu, red.Inyanga, the moon, a month.Inkomo, cattle.Immali, money.

By joining some of these words together may be formed many useful sentences; thus:—

Yenza umlilo, Make a fire.Ziza amanzi nàmi, Bring water to me.Dia funa ihashi am, I want my horse.Dia funa uku zingela ama injlovu, I want to hunt elephants.Mäuzapa nami goomso uku sebenza, Come to me to-morrow to work.Dia funa uku tenga zinkomo, I want to buy cattle.Mongàpi? How many?Ishumi, Ten.Ubanina? What is the name of?Ubanina amasondo lè? What is the name of these footmarks?Engàzi, I don’t know.Chela menà, Tell me.E-zàpa wena, Come here you.Hamba kona, Go there.

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