Chapter Thirty Eight.A Talk about Home.“I have a favour to ask of you, my friends,” said Hendrik, the day after they had been introduced at court. “I want a little information, if either of you can give it.”“Very well,” said Willem; “I, for one, will do all in my power to instruct you. What do you wish to know?”“If we are to stay in this part of the world any longer,” continued Hendrik, “I wish some one to give me a good reason for our doing so. I am ready to return home.”“And so am I,” said Arend.“And I also,” added Hans. “The last three or four weeks have given me quite enough of hunting giraffes, or anything else. We have been hunted too much ourselves.”“I’m sorry to hear you talking in this way,” said Groot Willem, “forIam not ready to return yet. We have not accomplished the purpose for which we set forth.”“True,” replied Hendrik, “and I believe we never shall.”“Why do you think so?” asked Willem, with a look of surprise.“Tell me why I shouldnotthink so,” answered Hendrik. “To begin with general principles, people are rarely successful in every undertaking in life. We have been fortunate on our two former expeditions, and we have no great cause to complain should we be disappointed in this one. We cannot always expect to win. Fortune is fickle; and my chief desire now is that we may reach home in safety.”“I am not prepared to go home yet,” rejoined Willem, in a way that told his companions he was in earnest. “We have only been in the neighbourhood of the Limpopo for a few short weeks; and we have been successful in getting a good many hippopotamus teeth. We have made but one attempt to capture giraffes; and I have not come more than a thousand miles, to relinquish an undertaking because I have met with one failure. What are we here for? The journey from Graaf Reinet to this place should not be made for nothing. We must have something to show for the loss of our time, besides the loss of our horses; and when we have made four or five more unsuccessful attempts at procuring what we came for, then I’ll listen patiently to your talk about returning,—not before.”Hendrik and Arend were thinking of the many narrow escapes from death they had met within the last few weeks, but perhaps more of their sweethearts. Hans could not withdraw his thoughts from the anticipated voyage to Europe but these motives for action would have been powerless as arguments with Groot Willem, even had they made use of them. He had come to the north for two young giraffes. Both time and money had been lost in the expedition, and his companions could give no substantial reason why they should not make some further attempt to accomplish the object for which it had been undertaken.Willem was generally inclined to yield to the wishes of his companions. On trivial affairs, he never made them unhappy by any spirit of opposition, nor did he suffer himself to be made so. But they could not control him now. It was not in the nature of either Hans, Hendrik, or Arend to return home and leave him alone; and since he continued, as Hendrik said, “obstinate as avlacke varke” they were reluctantly compelled to remain.They were told that within one day’s journey to the west, there was a large forest ofcameel-doorn, where giraffes were often seen, and they determined to pay this forest a visit.Macora had become a great favourite at court; and, having the business on hand of establishing his tribe in a new home, he could not accompany them. He assured them, however that there was no fear of their not finding giraffes in the aforesaid forest, as well as a convenient place for constructing a trap to capture them. They would also have men to assist them.In order not to put them to any trouble in communicating with him, he sent four of his best messengers along with them, two of whom were to be sent to him whenever the hunters had any important news to communicate.With feelings of renewed pleasure, our young hunters once more set forth upon an expedition, which, instead of being a retreat from savage foes, was but the parting from friends,—that might be met again.Hendrik and Arend had occasionally forgotten the allurements of home in the excitement of the chase; but when driven from one place to another, and often in danger of losing their lives, it is not to be wondered at that their thoughts should revert to the tranquil scenes of civilised life.Swartboy was highly delighted at thought of parting with the Makololo. For several days past he had been sorrowing within himself at the misfortune of being found in bad company, or professing to sorrow for it. What the Bushman’s real opinions were, will ever be an unimportant mystery on earth; though he never lost an opportunity of endeavouring to prove that all the misfortunes occurring to his masters had been owing to the fact that they were guided by Congo,—that they had been in company with people who spoke a language the Kaffir could understand, and that he himself could not. This he seemed to think was sufficient reason for any trouble that might befall them. They had left the tribe now, and Swartboy had become one of ten, and not one among hundreds. He had certain duties to perform that gave him a status in the company. His complaints and suggestions were now listened to, and he began to give expression to the hope that he might yet succeed in bringing the expedition to a successful issue!On the way to the mimosa forest nothing of any interest occurred, even to Hans, who, along the route, kept lingering behind his companions to examine the plants that were to be seen along the way. There was one little incident, however. Apparently a very interesting one to the dogs.While passing an elevation that might almost have been called a mountain, a troop of chacmas, or dog-faced baboons was seen descending from the summit, probably in search of water. The hunters had often heard that dogs have a greater hatred for these animals than for any others; and they now had strong evidence of the truth of this statement. Only one dog of the whole pack had ever encountered chacmas before; yet, immediately on seeing them, all seemed aroused to the highest pitch of fury it was possible for canine nature to attain. Simultaneously they rushed towards the baboons, baying savagely as they ran.Sheer instinct seemed to have stirred them to this animosity against animals whose aspect, in some respects, resembled their own.“Ride forward,” shouted Willem, “or our dogs will be killed.”Up to this time the baboons had shown no disposition to retreat. They appeared to think that the trouble of fighting dogs was not so great as that of returning up the mountain; but at the first report of Groot Willem’s roer, they scattered off after a fashion that left the dogs not the slightest chance of overtaking them.Only one of them remained behind, and it was the animal that had received the shot. Being wounded, it was immediately attacked by the dogs, who could not be choked off till they had torn the ugly brute into shreds.
“I have a favour to ask of you, my friends,” said Hendrik, the day after they had been introduced at court. “I want a little information, if either of you can give it.”
“Very well,” said Willem; “I, for one, will do all in my power to instruct you. What do you wish to know?”
“If we are to stay in this part of the world any longer,” continued Hendrik, “I wish some one to give me a good reason for our doing so. I am ready to return home.”
“And so am I,” said Arend.
“And I also,” added Hans. “The last three or four weeks have given me quite enough of hunting giraffes, or anything else. We have been hunted too much ourselves.”
“I’m sorry to hear you talking in this way,” said Groot Willem, “forIam not ready to return yet. We have not accomplished the purpose for which we set forth.”
“True,” replied Hendrik, “and I believe we never shall.”
“Why do you think so?” asked Willem, with a look of surprise.
“Tell me why I shouldnotthink so,” answered Hendrik. “To begin with general principles, people are rarely successful in every undertaking in life. We have been fortunate on our two former expeditions, and we have no great cause to complain should we be disappointed in this one. We cannot always expect to win. Fortune is fickle; and my chief desire now is that we may reach home in safety.”
“I am not prepared to go home yet,” rejoined Willem, in a way that told his companions he was in earnest. “We have only been in the neighbourhood of the Limpopo for a few short weeks; and we have been successful in getting a good many hippopotamus teeth. We have made but one attempt to capture giraffes; and I have not come more than a thousand miles, to relinquish an undertaking because I have met with one failure. What are we here for? The journey from Graaf Reinet to this place should not be made for nothing. We must have something to show for the loss of our time, besides the loss of our horses; and when we have made four or five more unsuccessful attempts at procuring what we came for, then I’ll listen patiently to your talk about returning,—not before.”
Hendrik and Arend were thinking of the many narrow escapes from death they had met within the last few weeks, but perhaps more of their sweethearts. Hans could not withdraw his thoughts from the anticipated voyage to Europe but these motives for action would have been powerless as arguments with Groot Willem, even had they made use of them. He had come to the north for two young giraffes. Both time and money had been lost in the expedition, and his companions could give no substantial reason why they should not make some further attempt to accomplish the object for which it had been undertaken.
Willem was generally inclined to yield to the wishes of his companions. On trivial affairs, he never made them unhappy by any spirit of opposition, nor did he suffer himself to be made so. But they could not control him now. It was not in the nature of either Hans, Hendrik, or Arend to return home and leave him alone; and since he continued, as Hendrik said, “obstinate as avlacke varke” they were reluctantly compelled to remain.
They were told that within one day’s journey to the west, there was a large forest ofcameel-doorn, where giraffes were often seen, and they determined to pay this forest a visit.
Macora had become a great favourite at court; and, having the business on hand of establishing his tribe in a new home, he could not accompany them. He assured them, however that there was no fear of their not finding giraffes in the aforesaid forest, as well as a convenient place for constructing a trap to capture them. They would also have men to assist them.
In order not to put them to any trouble in communicating with him, he sent four of his best messengers along with them, two of whom were to be sent to him whenever the hunters had any important news to communicate.
With feelings of renewed pleasure, our young hunters once more set forth upon an expedition, which, instead of being a retreat from savage foes, was but the parting from friends,—that might be met again.
Hendrik and Arend had occasionally forgotten the allurements of home in the excitement of the chase; but when driven from one place to another, and often in danger of losing their lives, it is not to be wondered at that their thoughts should revert to the tranquil scenes of civilised life.
Swartboy was highly delighted at thought of parting with the Makololo. For several days past he had been sorrowing within himself at the misfortune of being found in bad company, or professing to sorrow for it. What the Bushman’s real opinions were, will ever be an unimportant mystery on earth; though he never lost an opportunity of endeavouring to prove that all the misfortunes occurring to his masters had been owing to the fact that they were guided by Congo,—that they had been in company with people who spoke a language the Kaffir could understand, and that he himself could not. This he seemed to think was sufficient reason for any trouble that might befall them. They had left the tribe now, and Swartboy had become one of ten, and not one among hundreds. He had certain duties to perform that gave him a status in the company. His complaints and suggestions were now listened to, and he began to give expression to the hope that he might yet succeed in bringing the expedition to a successful issue!
On the way to the mimosa forest nothing of any interest occurred, even to Hans, who, along the route, kept lingering behind his companions to examine the plants that were to be seen along the way. There was one little incident, however. Apparently a very interesting one to the dogs.
While passing an elevation that might almost have been called a mountain, a troop of chacmas, or dog-faced baboons was seen descending from the summit, probably in search of water. The hunters had often heard that dogs have a greater hatred for these animals than for any others; and they now had strong evidence of the truth of this statement. Only one dog of the whole pack had ever encountered chacmas before; yet, immediately on seeing them, all seemed aroused to the highest pitch of fury it was possible for canine nature to attain. Simultaneously they rushed towards the baboons, baying savagely as they ran.
Sheer instinct seemed to have stirred them to this animosity against animals whose aspect, in some respects, resembled their own.
“Ride forward,” shouted Willem, “or our dogs will be killed.”
Up to this time the baboons had shown no disposition to retreat. They appeared to think that the trouble of fighting dogs was not so great as that of returning up the mountain; but at the first report of Groot Willem’s roer, they scattered off after a fashion that left the dogs not the slightest chance of overtaking them.
Only one of them remained behind, and it was the animal that had received the shot. Being wounded, it was immediately attacked by the dogs, who could not be choked off till they had torn the ugly brute into shreds.
Chapter Thirty Nine.Among the Mimosas.The hunters were now intent upon but one object,—that of procuring the giraffes. The roar of a lion near the camp could not have drawn them out of it. An elephant carrying many pounds of ivory was a sight that did not awaken sufficient interest to tempt a pursuit. All had a full appreciation of the task to be accomplished before they could return to their home, and they would allow nothing to interfere with the business before them.By the side of the mimosa grove, which was now to be the scene of their labours, ran a small stream. On its banks they soon discovered the spoor of giraffes. Some of the tracks were of small dimensions, evidently the hoof-marks of young calves. Groot Willem was in high spirits. There was once more a prospect of satisfying his hunter ambition. His companions, though not so confident of success, were equally as anxious to obtain it.The day after their arrival on the borders of thecameel-doornforest, a drove of giraffes was seen coming out from among the timber and making their way to the stream.The timid animals, unaware of their proximity to man, walked on until within one hundred and fifty yards of the spot where the hunters stood, before seeing the latter. They then turned suddenly, and with a swift but awkward gait retreated westward across the open plain, and entirely away from the mimosa forest. Hendrik and Arend were with some difficulty restrained from pursuing them. There was an opportunity for an exciting chase; and to remain inactive and see the giraffes disappear over the plain, required a strong self-denying effort.It was Groot Willem who held them in check.“Did you not see that there were three young ones in the drove?” said he. “Their home is very likely in this forest and we must not frighten them away from it.”“They have already been hunted,” answered Hendrik. “I am sure I saw an arrow sticking in the side of one of them. Some black has amused himself by torturing a creature he was unable to kill.”“It’s a great pity they saw us at all,” said Willem; “but they will probably return to the shelter of the trees. We must make sure that they have their haunt about here; and then we can send for some of Macora’s people, and let them build us another trap. That appears to be the only way of catching them.”Another day passed, in which the hunters amused themselves in killing reed bucks and other game in larger quantities than they required. Nothing more of the giraffes was seen; and on the next day the party started off on the spoor of the giraffes they had seen.Another mimosa forest was discovered about fifteen miles farther to the west; and on riding around it, they came upon a small lagoon. Its banks were trampled with the hoof-marks of many giraffes, some of which were very small. They had evidently been lately made, and by the same drove they had seen three days before. From this it was evident that the flock frequented both forests.“We have seen quite enough for the present,” said Willem. “Our next plan is to send for Macora’s promised assistance, and construct another trap.”In this all the others agreed; and then arose the question. Where shall the trap be built?“We may as well have it at the other grove,” said Hendrik, “for we can easily drive them back to the place where they were first seen.”No strong reasons could be advanced against this suggestion, and it was adopted.Next morning two of the Makololo were despatched to Macora, for the purpose of claiming his promised assistance; and all went back to the forest first visited, and there encamped.On the day the chief’s workmen were expected to arrive, Hendrik and Arend had ridden a few miles up the stream seeking for something to destroy. Impelled by that incomprehensible desire for taking life so natural to the hunter, they could not rest quietly at night unless they had killed something during the day.They had arrived at a thick belt of forest, consisting of acacias and evergreen shrubs, and trees of the strelitzia, zamia, and speckboom, when their ears were assailed by the sound of breaking branches, and the unmistakable rushing of some large animals through the thicket.“Prepare yourself, Arend; we may have some sport here,” cried Hendrik, and both drew rein to await thedénouement.A few seconds only elapsed when the forms of two full-grown giraffes were observed breaking from the thicket. On the back of one of these was a leopard. Blood was streaming down its breast, and it was reeling wildly in its gait.Knowing that the leopard is a cowardly creature, and that its capability for taking its prey is so great that it rarely suffers from want of food, and never where there is an abundance of game, the youths knew that its attack on the giraffe must have been caused by some other motive than that of satisfying the appetite of hunger. Its young had been disturbed in their lair, or the giraffes had in some other way aroused its animosity. On reaching the open ground it was seen that the unencumbered giraffe quickly forsook its companion, which was now showing unmistakable signs of being able to go but a very little farther. Its life-blood was flowing from its neck, and the stately monster was about to topple over under the injuries it had received from its fierce, agile enemy. The hunters were spectators of an incident such had probably never before happened,—that of a leopard killing a giraffe. Circumstances had favoured the beast of prey; and the huge ruminant, that had in some unconscious way aroused its anger, was being destroyed by an animal not the tenth part of its own strength or bulk.Two dogs that were along with the hunters, not heeding the voices of their owners, essayed to take a part in the destruction of the innocent creature. Both ran yelping after it, and endeavoured to lay hold of its heels. Lifting one of its feet, the tottering camelopard dashed it with unerring aim against one of the dogs, with a force that threw the cur several feet backward, where it lay sprawling in the last convulsive motions of life. By making this effort, the reeling body of the giraffe lost its balance, and throwing its head violently to one side it fell heavily to the earth, its shoulders covering part of the leopard’s body, and crushing the latter to death. Like Samson, the leopard had brought destruction upon itself!Handing the reins of the bridle to Arend, Hendrik walked up within a few feet of the leopard’s head, and put an end to its snarling screams by a ball through the brain.What little life remained in the giraffe soon departed from it, along with the blood which the beast of prey had let out of its veins. Standing over the two carcasses, the hunters tried to arrive at some comprehension of the strange scene they had witnessed. They had heard of a lion having ridden on the back of a giraffe for a distance of many miles, and had treated the story as a fabrication. Before them was evidence that a leopard had travelled no little distance in a similar manner. Why should not a lion do the same? Notwithstanding the thickness of the hide that covered the neck of the giraffe, it had been torn to shreds, that were hanging down over its shoulders. The long claws and tusks of the leopard had been repeatedly buried in its flesh, arteries and veins had been dragged from their beds and laid open, ere the strength and life of the animal had forsaken it. This could not have been the work of a few seconds.Several minutes may have been required for inflicting the injuries the giraffe had suffered, and during that time its merciless foe was probably wholly unconscious that it was being borne far from the scene where the attack had been commenced. Death had saved it from the surprise of discovering that, in the practice of its ferocious fury, it had been carried far away from the young it was making such efforts to defend.
The hunters were now intent upon but one object,—that of procuring the giraffes. The roar of a lion near the camp could not have drawn them out of it. An elephant carrying many pounds of ivory was a sight that did not awaken sufficient interest to tempt a pursuit. All had a full appreciation of the task to be accomplished before they could return to their home, and they would allow nothing to interfere with the business before them.
By the side of the mimosa grove, which was now to be the scene of their labours, ran a small stream. On its banks they soon discovered the spoor of giraffes. Some of the tracks were of small dimensions, evidently the hoof-marks of young calves. Groot Willem was in high spirits. There was once more a prospect of satisfying his hunter ambition. His companions, though not so confident of success, were equally as anxious to obtain it.
The day after their arrival on the borders of thecameel-doornforest, a drove of giraffes was seen coming out from among the timber and making their way to the stream.
The timid animals, unaware of their proximity to man, walked on until within one hundred and fifty yards of the spot where the hunters stood, before seeing the latter. They then turned suddenly, and with a swift but awkward gait retreated westward across the open plain, and entirely away from the mimosa forest. Hendrik and Arend were with some difficulty restrained from pursuing them. There was an opportunity for an exciting chase; and to remain inactive and see the giraffes disappear over the plain, required a strong self-denying effort.
It was Groot Willem who held them in check.
“Did you not see that there were three young ones in the drove?” said he. “Their home is very likely in this forest and we must not frighten them away from it.”
“They have already been hunted,” answered Hendrik. “I am sure I saw an arrow sticking in the side of one of them. Some black has amused himself by torturing a creature he was unable to kill.”
“It’s a great pity they saw us at all,” said Willem; “but they will probably return to the shelter of the trees. We must make sure that they have their haunt about here; and then we can send for some of Macora’s people, and let them build us another trap. That appears to be the only way of catching them.”
Another day passed, in which the hunters amused themselves in killing reed bucks and other game in larger quantities than they required. Nothing more of the giraffes was seen; and on the next day the party started off on the spoor of the giraffes they had seen.
Another mimosa forest was discovered about fifteen miles farther to the west; and on riding around it, they came upon a small lagoon. Its banks were trampled with the hoof-marks of many giraffes, some of which were very small. They had evidently been lately made, and by the same drove they had seen three days before. From this it was evident that the flock frequented both forests.
“We have seen quite enough for the present,” said Willem. “Our next plan is to send for Macora’s promised assistance, and construct another trap.”
In this all the others agreed; and then arose the question. Where shall the trap be built?
“We may as well have it at the other grove,” said Hendrik, “for we can easily drive them back to the place where they were first seen.”
No strong reasons could be advanced against this suggestion, and it was adopted.
Next morning two of the Makololo were despatched to Macora, for the purpose of claiming his promised assistance; and all went back to the forest first visited, and there encamped.
On the day the chief’s workmen were expected to arrive, Hendrik and Arend had ridden a few miles up the stream seeking for something to destroy. Impelled by that incomprehensible desire for taking life so natural to the hunter, they could not rest quietly at night unless they had killed something during the day.
They had arrived at a thick belt of forest, consisting of acacias and evergreen shrubs, and trees of the strelitzia, zamia, and speckboom, when their ears were assailed by the sound of breaking branches, and the unmistakable rushing of some large animals through the thicket.
“Prepare yourself, Arend; we may have some sport here,” cried Hendrik, and both drew rein to await thedénouement.
A few seconds only elapsed when the forms of two full-grown giraffes were observed breaking from the thicket. On the back of one of these was a leopard. Blood was streaming down its breast, and it was reeling wildly in its gait.
Knowing that the leopard is a cowardly creature, and that its capability for taking its prey is so great that it rarely suffers from want of food, and never where there is an abundance of game, the youths knew that its attack on the giraffe must have been caused by some other motive than that of satisfying the appetite of hunger. Its young had been disturbed in their lair, or the giraffes had in some other way aroused its animosity. On reaching the open ground it was seen that the unencumbered giraffe quickly forsook its companion, which was now showing unmistakable signs of being able to go but a very little farther. Its life-blood was flowing from its neck, and the stately monster was about to topple over under the injuries it had received from its fierce, agile enemy. The hunters were spectators of an incident such had probably never before happened,—that of a leopard killing a giraffe. Circumstances had favoured the beast of prey; and the huge ruminant, that had in some unconscious way aroused its anger, was being destroyed by an animal not the tenth part of its own strength or bulk.
Two dogs that were along with the hunters, not heeding the voices of their owners, essayed to take a part in the destruction of the innocent creature. Both ran yelping after it, and endeavoured to lay hold of its heels. Lifting one of its feet, the tottering camelopard dashed it with unerring aim against one of the dogs, with a force that threw the cur several feet backward, where it lay sprawling in the last convulsive motions of life. By making this effort, the reeling body of the giraffe lost its balance, and throwing its head violently to one side it fell heavily to the earth, its shoulders covering part of the leopard’s body, and crushing the latter to death. Like Samson, the leopard had brought destruction upon itself!
Handing the reins of the bridle to Arend, Hendrik walked up within a few feet of the leopard’s head, and put an end to its snarling screams by a ball through the brain.
What little life remained in the giraffe soon departed from it, along with the blood which the beast of prey had let out of its veins. Standing over the two carcasses, the hunters tried to arrive at some comprehension of the strange scene they had witnessed. They had heard of a lion having ridden on the back of a giraffe for a distance of many miles, and had treated the story as a fabrication. Before them was evidence that a leopard had travelled no little distance in a similar manner. Why should not a lion do the same? Notwithstanding the thickness of the hide that covered the neck of the giraffe, it had been torn to shreds, that were hanging down over its shoulders. The long claws and tusks of the leopard had been repeatedly buried in its flesh, arteries and veins had been dragged from their beds and laid open, ere the strength and life of the animal had forsaken it. This could not have been the work of a few seconds.
Several minutes may have been required for inflicting the injuries the giraffe had suffered, and during that time its merciless foe was probably wholly unconscious that it was being borne far from the scene where the attack had been commenced. Death had saved it from the surprise of discovering that, in the practice of its ferocious fury, it had been carried far away from the young it was making such efforts to defend.
Chapter Forty.Another Disappointment.Three days after the departure of the messengers, Macora’s promise of aid was again fulfilled by the arrival of thirty workmen. A site for the hopo was chosen about half a mile from the forest edge, and the construction of it was immediately commenced.Anxious to learn the result of another attempt at capturing giraffes, the hunters toiled early and late. Two of them were constantly handling the axes, felling small trees, which the blacks transported to the place where they were to be used, while the other two superintended the setting of the sticks. The labour of constructing this trap was not so great as the other, for a more convenient site had been chosen. The two fences were to be placed a little beyond the sides of the mimosa grove, which was not more than half a mile wide; nor was the pit made so large as the first; and by toiling nearly all the time from sunrise to sunset, the contrivance was got ready for use in seven days.While the work was progressing, several giraffes had been seen in the neighbourhood, and the hopes of the hunters were once more in the ascendant. All were in high spirits with the prospect that, within two or three days, they might be on their return to Graaf Reinet. To make more sure of success they paid a visit to the second mimosa grove, taking along with them a large party of the Makololo. Their object was to drive the giraffes out of that tract of timber into the one where the trap was being prepared for them. During their excursion no camelopards were seen in this second grove; but this, in the opinion of the hunters, was of little consequence. They would be discovered in the place where they were wanted; and in this hope they hastened back to the hopo.The same means for driving the giraffes into the trap were again employed. A regular battue was established,—all hands taking share in it. The Makololo, accompanied by their dogs, and making as much noise as lay in their power, passed through the tract of timber, while Willem and Hendrik rode along one side, and Hans and Arend on the other.As the beaters drew near the end where the trap was established, Willem began to have an apprehension that something was wrong. No herds of large game were seen escaping from the cover. No sounds of crashing sticks and breaking branches struck upon his ear. The forest seemed deserted by all but the noisy Makololo, who were working their way through its shady aisles. The termination of the battue was at length reached. Within the pen were seen enclosed a few small antelopes of common species, a pair of brindled gnus, and some wild hogs.This was a bitter disappointment. The giraffes had got away, no one knew how or where. They might return again; but no one could be certain of this. Those amongst the Makololo who professed to be best acquainted with their habit, expressed the belief that they had migrated to same extensive forests far-away towards the south, and that no more camelopards might be found in that neighbourhood for the six months to follow. They (the Makololo) were anxious to return to their homes. Perhaps this may have guided them in their opinion. They had huts to build, and land to cultivate for their families, and had neglected these duties in obedience to the command of their chief. The hunters could not reasonably detain them longer, and, though with reluctance, permitted them to take their departure.Three days were passed in riding about the neighbourhood, and exploring it within a circle of twenty miles. Several small groves ofcameel-doornwere found, but no camelopards could be seen. They had evidently forsaken that district or country, and might not return for many weeks or months. The Makololo appeared to have spoken the truth.“I don’t say that we have been acting like fools,” said Arend; “but I will say that we deserve to be called nothing else, if we squander any more time in search of what fate has decreed that we are not to obtain.”“Go on, Arend!” exclaimed Hendrik. “I could not talk more sensibly myself.”“I have nothing more to say at present,” said Arend, with a significant shake of the head, as much as to say that the subject was too plain to require discussion.“What should we do, Hans?” asked Groot Willem.“Start for home,” was the ready answer. “I am now of Hendrik’s opinion,” continued the botanist. “We should not expect to be successful in every undertaking, and we have for some time been engaged on one in which we seem destined to fail.”“Very well,” said Groot Willem. “Let us first go back to the country of Macora. It will be so far on our way to Graaf Reinet.”Seeing that Swartboy was anxious to give his opinion on this important subject, Hendrik was kind enough to give him a chance by asking for it. The Bushman possessed to an extraordinary degree the not unusual accomplishment of saying a very little in a great many words. Fortunately, for the gratification of his vanity, the hunters were at supper, and had time to listen to his circumlocution.The failure of the expedition so far was, in Swartboy’s opinion, wholly owing to Congo. He had known from the first that no success could attend them while guided by a Kaffir, or any race of blacks whose language a Kaffir could understand.Swartboy further informed them that in his childhood he had daily seen giraffes; and that if they were amongst his countrymen, the Bushmen, who, in his opinion, were honest and intelligent compared with other Africans, they would have no difficulty in procuring what they required. This communication, to those who knew that the Bushmen were, perhaps, the lowest specimens of humanity to be found in all Africa, only created a smile on the faces of his listeners; but with this proof of his eloquence Swartboy seemed quite satisfied.On their arrival at Macora’s new settlement, the chief expressed much regret at the failure of their expedition, but could give Willem but little or no hope that there was other chance of success, at least for some time to come.Camelopards, he said, often migrated from one district to another, travelling for several days at a time, and often going thirty or forty miles a day. A drove containing young ones, such as were required, might not be seen in the neighbourhood for several weeks. He still promised to render all the assistance himself and tribe were capable of affording.Willem might have remained to try another trap, but the voice of his companions was in favour of at once setting out for Graaf Reinet. This soon became too emphatic for him to resist, and the great hunter had to yield. A sort of compromise was, however, agreed upon, which was that they should go home, not on a direct course for Graaf Reinet, but through the country of the Bechuanas,—crossing some districts inhabited by the Bushmen. Thence they could turn eastward and homeward.In this journey Willem promised to cause them no unnecessary delay; and his companions agreed to do their best in aiding him to accomplish his cherished purpose.In Macora’s tribe were four young men who had a strong desire to visit the white settlements, and learn something more of the customs of a civilised people than could be gathered from occasional hunters and traders. These young men were furnished by their friends with an outfit of oxen, and some merchandise in the shape of leopard skins, ostrich-feathers, and ivory. They were instructed by Macora to render all the assistance they could to his friend Willem and his young associates.On leaving, the hunters were escorted by the chief and other leading men of the tribe for a distance of several miles. At parting with these, our adventurers had every reason to know that they were taking leave of true friends.The chief and Sindo were nearly disconsolate at the separation, especially from Groot Willem, to whom both declared that they owed their lives. Each promised sometime to pay him a visit in his far-away home. The hunters started forth on their journey under the firm impression that amongst the Makololo were men possessing almost every noble attribute of human nature.
Three days after the departure of the messengers, Macora’s promise of aid was again fulfilled by the arrival of thirty workmen. A site for the hopo was chosen about half a mile from the forest edge, and the construction of it was immediately commenced.
Anxious to learn the result of another attempt at capturing giraffes, the hunters toiled early and late. Two of them were constantly handling the axes, felling small trees, which the blacks transported to the place where they were to be used, while the other two superintended the setting of the sticks. The labour of constructing this trap was not so great as the other, for a more convenient site had been chosen. The two fences were to be placed a little beyond the sides of the mimosa grove, which was not more than half a mile wide; nor was the pit made so large as the first; and by toiling nearly all the time from sunrise to sunset, the contrivance was got ready for use in seven days.
While the work was progressing, several giraffes had been seen in the neighbourhood, and the hopes of the hunters were once more in the ascendant. All were in high spirits with the prospect that, within two or three days, they might be on their return to Graaf Reinet. To make more sure of success they paid a visit to the second mimosa grove, taking along with them a large party of the Makololo. Their object was to drive the giraffes out of that tract of timber into the one where the trap was being prepared for them. During their excursion no camelopards were seen in this second grove; but this, in the opinion of the hunters, was of little consequence. They would be discovered in the place where they were wanted; and in this hope they hastened back to the hopo.
The same means for driving the giraffes into the trap were again employed. A regular battue was established,—all hands taking share in it. The Makololo, accompanied by their dogs, and making as much noise as lay in their power, passed through the tract of timber, while Willem and Hendrik rode along one side, and Hans and Arend on the other.
As the beaters drew near the end where the trap was established, Willem began to have an apprehension that something was wrong. No herds of large game were seen escaping from the cover. No sounds of crashing sticks and breaking branches struck upon his ear. The forest seemed deserted by all but the noisy Makololo, who were working their way through its shady aisles. The termination of the battue was at length reached. Within the pen were seen enclosed a few small antelopes of common species, a pair of brindled gnus, and some wild hogs.
This was a bitter disappointment. The giraffes had got away, no one knew how or where. They might return again; but no one could be certain of this. Those amongst the Makololo who professed to be best acquainted with their habit, expressed the belief that they had migrated to same extensive forests far-away towards the south, and that no more camelopards might be found in that neighbourhood for the six months to follow. They (the Makololo) were anxious to return to their homes. Perhaps this may have guided them in their opinion. They had huts to build, and land to cultivate for their families, and had neglected these duties in obedience to the command of their chief. The hunters could not reasonably detain them longer, and, though with reluctance, permitted them to take their departure.
Three days were passed in riding about the neighbourhood, and exploring it within a circle of twenty miles. Several small groves ofcameel-doornwere found, but no camelopards could be seen. They had evidently forsaken that district or country, and might not return for many weeks or months. The Makololo appeared to have spoken the truth.
“I don’t say that we have been acting like fools,” said Arend; “but I will say that we deserve to be called nothing else, if we squander any more time in search of what fate has decreed that we are not to obtain.”
“Go on, Arend!” exclaimed Hendrik. “I could not talk more sensibly myself.”
“I have nothing more to say at present,” said Arend, with a significant shake of the head, as much as to say that the subject was too plain to require discussion.
“What should we do, Hans?” asked Groot Willem.
“Start for home,” was the ready answer. “I am now of Hendrik’s opinion,” continued the botanist. “We should not expect to be successful in every undertaking, and we have for some time been engaged on one in which we seem destined to fail.”
“Very well,” said Groot Willem. “Let us first go back to the country of Macora. It will be so far on our way to Graaf Reinet.”
Seeing that Swartboy was anxious to give his opinion on this important subject, Hendrik was kind enough to give him a chance by asking for it. The Bushman possessed to an extraordinary degree the not unusual accomplishment of saying a very little in a great many words. Fortunately, for the gratification of his vanity, the hunters were at supper, and had time to listen to his circumlocution.
The failure of the expedition so far was, in Swartboy’s opinion, wholly owing to Congo. He had known from the first that no success could attend them while guided by a Kaffir, or any race of blacks whose language a Kaffir could understand.
Swartboy further informed them that in his childhood he had daily seen giraffes; and that if they were amongst his countrymen, the Bushmen, who, in his opinion, were honest and intelligent compared with other Africans, they would have no difficulty in procuring what they required. This communication, to those who knew that the Bushmen were, perhaps, the lowest specimens of humanity to be found in all Africa, only created a smile on the faces of his listeners; but with this proof of his eloquence Swartboy seemed quite satisfied.
On their arrival at Macora’s new settlement, the chief expressed much regret at the failure of their expedition, but could give Willem but little or no hope that there was other chance of success, at least for some time to come.
Camelopards, he said, often migrated from one district to another, travelling for several days at a time, and often going thirty or forty miles a day. A drove containing young ones, such as were required, might not be seen in the neighbourhood for several weeks. He still promised to render all the assistance himself and tribe were capable of affording.
Willem might have remained to try another trap, but the voice of his companions was in favour of at once setting out for Graaf Reinet. This soon became too emphatic for him to resist, and the great hunter had to yield. A sort of compromise was, however, agreed upon, which was that they should go home, not on a direct course for Graaf Reinet, but through the country of the Bechuanas,—crossing some districts inhabited by the Bushmen. Thence they could turn eastward and homeward.
In this journey Willem promised to cause them no unnecessary delay; and his companions agreed to do their best in aiding him to accomplish his cherished purpose.
In Macora’s tribe were four young men who had a strong desire to visit the white settlements, and learn something more of the customs of a civilised people than could be gathered from occasional hunters and traders. These young men were furnished by their friends with an outfit of oxen, and some merchandise in the shape of leopard skins, ostrich-feathers, and ivory. They were instructed by Macora to render all the assistance they could to his friend Willem and his young associates.
On leaving, the hunters were escorted by the chief and other leading men of the tribe for a distance of several miles. At parting with these, our adventurers had every reason to know that they were taking leave of true friends.
The chief and Sindo were nearly disconsolate at the separation, especially from Groot Willem, to whom both declared that they owed their lives. Each promised sometime to pay him a visit in his far-away home. The hunters started forth on their journey under the firm impression that amongst the Makololo were men possessing almost every noble attribute of human nature.
Chapter Forty One.A Herd of Buffaloes.When on what might be termed the way back to Graaf Reinet, Hans, Hendrik, and Arend were on very good terms with themselves and everybody else. This was not the case with Groot Willem. He moved on along with the others because there was still a prospect of meeting with giraffes; but the fear of reaching the settlements without taking a pair of young ones back with him was a source of constant annoyance.He was inclined to linger on the road, and never lost an opportunity of delaying the march in pursuit of different animals, either for amusement or for food.On the third morning after parting with Macora a large herd of buffaloes was observed. They were pasturing around the base of a hill about half a mile from the line of route on which our travellers were proceeding. In an instant Groot Willem was in his saddle and riding towards them. The others seemed rather reluctant to accompany him.“Here’s a delay of another day,” exclaimed Arend. “Willem will kill a buffalo, and insist on our staying to eat it.”“Very likely,” said Hendrik; “but I don’t see why he should have all the sport to himself.”Leaping into their saddles Hendrik and Arend rode after Willem, and were followed by two of the Makololo mounted on oxen. The patient and philosophical Hans remained behind, to await their return.Following a course that would place him in advance of the herd, Willem, who did not wish to frighten the buffaloes by charging rapidly upon them, was soon overtaken by the others.The buffaloes—more than two hundred in number—were all moving in one direction, but very slowly, as they were engaged in grazing.When the hunters had got within about three hundred yards of them, they all raised their heads, and, after gazing for a moment at the strange creatures who had come to disturb their repast, again lowered them, and continued quietly pasturing.The leader of the herd had not yet given the signal for flight.“We must ride farther to the left and get round them,” suggested Willem. “Some of the old bulls may charge upon us, and, if so, we had better retreat up the hill.”By the time the hunters had reached the sloping ground, and got within a hundred paces of the herd, several of the bulls had placed themselves in an attitude of defiance, and stood fronting the enemy, as if to cover the retreat of the cows and calves, for there were several of them in the drove.A good shot is seldom made from the back of a horse. Knowing this, the hunters dismounted; and, taking steady aim, fired, each having selected a victim. The three shots were discharged within the same number of seconds; and, on firing, each of the hunters hastened to regain his saddle. On receiving the volley, several bulls broke from the line and charged furiously forward upon their assailants.At sight of them, the horses, anxious to get out of the way, began to pitch and rear, so that it was difficult to mount them. Hendrik and Arend succeeded in regaining their saddles; but Willem failed.The horse which had often carried him within a few yards of an enraged elephant, was new struck frantic with fear at the bellowing of the wounded bulls. As they made their impetuous charge, he endeavoured to get loose from his master. The more the hand of Willem strove to restrain him, the more anxious he seemed to be off; and notwithstanding the hunter’s great strength, he was dragged on the bridle untilone of the reins broke; and the other was pulled through his grasp with a velocity that cut his fingers nearly to the bone. By this time one of the bulls was close up to him. Notwithstanding his great size, Groot Willem was neither unwieldy nor awkward in action. On the contrary, he was swift of foot; but, for all this, there was no hope of his being able to outrun an African buffalo.So sudden had been the charge of the angry animals, that one of the oxen ridden by the Makololo, had not time to be got out of the way, and was abandoned by his owner. As good luck would have it for Willem, the unfortunate ox was the means of saving his life. Charging upon it, the buffalo thrust one of its long horns through the ribs of the ox, lifting the saddle clear from its back, and laying the animal itself along the earth, dead as if struck down by a pole-axe.The buffalo was itself now attacked by three or four dogs, that served for some time to engage its attention.For a good while its canine assailants continued to keep clear of both its hoofs and horns; till one of them, essaying to seize it by the snout, was struck down and trampled under foot. The vindictive nature of the African buffalo was now displayed before the eyes of the spectators. Not contented with having killed the dog, it knelt down upon the carcass, crushing it under its knees, as if determined to leave not a bone unbroken! The animal seemed angry with itself for its inability to mangle its victim with hoof and horns, at the same time.While this scene was transpiring, Groot Willem was given time to reload his roer. A bullet through its body brought the buffalo again to its knees, from which it had just arisen to continue the pursuit. Bellowing in a manner that caused the air to vibrate for a mile around the spot, the creature once more rose to its feet, staggered a pace or two, and then sank back to the earth, to rise no more. It had been severely wounded by the first fire, and the grass for a large space round it was sprinkled with its blood.Groot Willem was not the only one who had been charged upon. Arend and Hendrik were also obliged to retreat, each pursued by a brace of bulls. Fortunately the hill was close at hand, and against its sloping side they urged their horses both with whip and spur.The immense weight of the buffalo bull hinders him from running rapidly up hill, although in the contrary direction he will often overtake a horse. As the animals in question soon perceived the hopelessness of the chase, they abandoned it; and trotting back to the drove, now going off over the plain below, they left the young hunters in quiet possession of the spoil they had obtained. This was what the hunters supposed they would do. They soon saw their mistake, as the four bulls, instead of continuing on after the retreating drove, turned suddenly to one side, and rushed towards a wounded bull that was lagging a long way in the rear. A spectacle was now witnessed which caused astonishment to those who saw it. Instead of trying to protect their injured companion, the four bulls set upon it, flinging it from its feet, and goring it with their horns. This cruel treatment was continued until the unfortunate animal lay still in death. They did not appear to be inspired by any feeling of rage, but only acting under some instinct not understood. There seemed something horrible in this attack upon their disabled companion. But alas! it was not so very unlike what, often occurs among men,—misfortune too frequently turning friends into enemies.After settling with their wounded comrade, the four bulls continued their retreat, and soon overtook the herd they had tarried to protect.The buffalo shot by Willem was the largest our hunters had yet killed; and curiosity led them to make a note of its dimensions. It was eight feet in length, and nearly six in height to the summit of the shoulders. The tips of its long horns were five feet three inches asunder. Across one shoulder, and a part of the neck, was a broad scar more than two feet in length. This scar was conspicuous at some distance, notwithstanding the animal’s hide was covered with a thick coat of dark brown hair, showing that it was not very far advanced in years. The wound leaving this mark had evidently been given by the claws of a lion. This they knew to be the case, from seeing three scratches parallel with each other, showing where the lion’s claws had been drawn transversely across the shoulder.Some steak and other choice portions, being cut from the brace of bulls, were packed upon the saddle croup to be carried away; and after a short halt, and a feast upon fresh buffalo beef, our adventurers resumed their interrupted journey.
When on what might be termed the way back to Graaf Reinet, Hans, Hendrik, and Arend were on very good terms with themselves and everybody else. This was not the case with Groot Willem. He moved on along with the others because there was still a prospect of meeting with giraffes; but the fear of reaching the settlements without taking a pair of young ones back with him was a source of constant annoyance.
He was inclined to linger on the road, and never lost an opportunity of delaying the march in pursuit of different animals, either for amusement or for food.
On the third morning after parting with Macora a large herd of buffaloes was observed. They were pasturing around the base of a hill about half a mile from the line of route on which our travellers were proceeding. In an instant Groot Willem was in his saddle and riding towards them. The others seemed rather reluctant to accompany him.
“Here’s a delay of another day,” exclaimed Arend. “Willem will kill a buffalo, and insist on our staying to eat it.”
“Very likely,” said Hendrik; “but I don’t see why he should have all the sport to himself.”
Leaping into their saddles Hendrik and Arend rode after Willem, and were followed by two of the Makololo mounted on oxen. The patient and philosophical Hans remained behind, to await their return.
Following a course that would place him in advance of the herd, Willem, who did not wish to frighten the buffaloes by charging rapidly upon them, was soon overtaken by the others.
The buffaloes—more than two hundred in number—were all moving in one direction, but very slowly, as they were engaged in grazing.
When the hunters had got within about three hundred yards of them, they all raised their heads, and, after gazing for a moment at the strange creatures who had come to disturb their repast, again lowered them, and continued quietly pasturing.
The leader of the herd had not yet given the signal for flight.
“We must ride farther to the left and get round them,” suggested Willem. “Some of the old bulls may charge upon us, and, if so, we had better retreat up the hill.”
By the time the hunters had reached the sloping ground, and got within a hundred paces of the herd, several of the bulls had placed themselves in an attitude of defiance, and stood fronting the enemy, as if to cover the retreat of the cows and calves, for there were several of them in the drove.
A good shot is seldom made from the back of a horse. Knowing this, the hunters dismounted; and, taking steady aim, fired, each having selected a victim. The three shots were discharged within the same number of seconds; and, on firing, each of the hunters hastened to regain his saddle. On receiving the volley, several bulls broke from the line and charged furiously forward upon their assailants.
At sight of them, the horses, anxious to get out of the way, began to pitch and rear, so that it was difficult to mount them. Hendrik and Arend succeeded in regaining their saddles; but Willem failed.
The horse which had often carried him within a few yards of an enraged elephant, was new struck frantic with fear at the bellowing of the wounded bulls. As they made their impetuous charge, he endeavoured to get loose from his master. The more the hand of Willem strove to restrain him, the more anxious he seemed to be off; and notwithstanding the hunter’s great strength, he was dragged on the bridle untilone of the reins broke; and the other was pulled through his grasp with a velocity that cut his fingers nearly to the bone. By this time one of the bulls was close up to him. Notwithstanding his great size, Groot Willem was neither unwieldy nor awkward in action. On the contrary, he was swift of foot; but, for all this, there was no hope of his being able to outrun an African buffalo.
So sudden had been the charge of the angry animals, that one of the oxen ridden by the Makololo, had not time to be got out of the way, and was abandoned by his owner. As good luck would have it for Willem, the unfortunate ox was the means of saving his life. Charging upon it, the buffalo thrust one of its long horns through the ribs of the ox, lifting the saddle clear from its back, and laying the animal itself along the earth, dead as if struck down by a pole-axe.
The buffalo was itself now attacked by three or four dogs, that served for some time to engage its attention.
For a good while its canine assailants continued to keep clear of both its hoofs and horns; till one of them, essaying to seize it by the snout, was struck down and trampled under foot. The vindictive nature of the African buffalo was now displayed before the eyes of the spectators. Not contented with having killed the dog, it knelt down upon the carcass, crushing it under its knees, as if determined to leave not a bone unbroken! The animal seemed angry with itself for its inability to mangle its victim with hoof and horns, at the same time.
While this scene was transpiring, Groot Willem was given time to reload his roer. A bullet through its body brought the buffalo again to its knees, from which it had just arisen to continue the pursuit. Bellowing in a manner that caused the air to vibrate for a mile around the spot, the creature once more rose to its feet, staggered a pace or two, and then sank back to the earth, to rise no more. It had been severely wounded by the first fire, and the grass for a large space round it was sprinkled with its blood.
Groot Willem was not the only one who had been charged upon. Arend and Hendrik were also obliged to retreat, each pursued by a brace of bulls. Fortunately the hill was close at hand, and against its sloping side they urged their horses both with whip and spur.
The immense weight of the buffalo bull hinders him from running rapidly up hill, although in the contrary direction he will often overtake a horse. As the animals in question soon perceived the hopelessness of the chase, they abandoned it; and trotting back to the drove, now going off over the plain below, they left the young hunters in quiet possession of the spoil they had obtained. This was what the hunters supposed they would do. They soon saw their mistake, as the four bulls, instead of continuing on after the retreating drove, turned suddenly to one side, and rushed towards a wounded bull that was lagging a long way in the rear. A spectacle was now witnessed which caused astonishment to those who saw it. Instead of trying to protect their injured companion, the four bulls set upon it, flinging it from its feet, and goring it with their horns. This cruel treatment was continued until the unfortunate animal lay still in death. They did not appear to be inspired by any feeling of rage, but only acting under some instinct not understood. There seemed something horrible in this attack upon their disabled companion. But alas! it was not so very unlike what, often occurs among men,—misfortune too frequently turning friends into enemies.
After settling with their wounded comrade, the four bulls continued their retreat, and soon overtook the herd they had tarried to protect.
The buffalo shot by Willem was the largest our hunters had yet killed; and curiosity led them to make a note of its dimensions. It was eight feet in length, and nearly six in height to the summit of the shoulders. The tips of its long horns were five feet three inches asunder. Across one shoulder, and a part of the neck, was a broad scar more than two feet in length. This scar was conspicuous at some distance, notwithstanding the animal’s hide was covered with a thick coat of dark brown hair, showing that it was not very far advanced in years. The wound leaving this mark had evidently been given by the claws of a lion. This they knew to be the case, from seeing three scratches parallel with each other, showing where the lion’s claws had been drawn transversely across the shoulder.
Some steak and other choice portions, being cut from the brace of bulls, were packed upon the saddle croup to be carried away; and after a short halt, and a feast upon fresh buffalo beef, our adventurers resumed their interrupted journey.
Chapter Forty Two.The Poisoned Spring.On the evening of the eighth day after leaving Macora the hunters encamped on the bank of a small stream, which they computed to be about one hundred and twenty miles south of the place from where their return journey commenced.Within the mind of Groot Willem, there was still a lingering hope that they might again meet with giraffes; and he had never lost an opportunity of looking for them along the route.The delays caused by his explorations had been a source of constant annoyance to the others; but as Willem had a will of his own,—one, nevertheless, united with a disposition so cheerful as to be proof against any attempts at a controversy,—his companions were compelled to be content with the knowledge that they were slowly progressing towards Graaf Reinet.In the morning after entering their new camp, they arose to look upon a scene more beautiful than any other they had yet beheld in the extended country over which they had wandered. Near them was a grove of oleander bushes, loaded with beautiful blossoms. Every branch was adorned by the presence of two or more beautiful green sugar-birds,—thecerthia (Nectarinia) famosa. Nothing in nature can exceed in splendour the plumage of the sugar-bird. The little vale in which the hunters had encamped seemed a paradise, bathed in golden sunlight; and even the cattle appeared to leave it with some reluctance.On moving down the bed of the watercourse, they found that they were not travelling by the side of a running stream, but by what, in the dry season, was a chain of lakelets or water-holes. After crossing a bar between two of these ponds, they were much annoyed by a horrible stench borne upon the breeze, and coming from the direction they intended to take. As they journeyed on, so offensive grew the smell that a halt was made, and a resolution passed without a dissenting voice, that they should turn to the east and get to windward of this offensive odour, still unexplained.While doing this, they observed to the west, a flock of vultures, wheeling high up in the air; and, down upon the plain below, hundreds of jackals and hyenas were seen leaping about. So large an assemblage of these carrion-feeding creatures called for an explanation; and, on riding nearer, the hunters saw a number of dead antelopes lying within a few feet of each other.As they rode farther along the plain, more dead antelopes were seen, and they began to fear that they had entered some valley of death, from which they might never go out. The mystery—for such it was to them—was readily cleared up by the Makololo and Congo. The antelopes had been drinking water from a pond or spring poisoned by the natives; which proved that our travellers had arrived in the neighbourhood of some tribe of the Bechuanas. Of this method for wantonly destroying animal life, practised by many of the native African tribes, the hunters had often heard. The many stories which they had been told of the wholesale destruction of game by poison, and which they had treated with incredulity, after all, had not been exaggerated. They estimated the number of dead antelopes lying within a circumference of a mile, at not less than two hundred. One of the water-holes of the chain by which they had halted, had been poisoned. A herd of antelopes had quenched their thirst at the place, and had only climbed up the bank to lie down and die.“We have been very fortunate,” remarked Groot Willem, “in not encamping by the poisoned water ourselves. Had we done so, we would all, by this time, have been food for the jackals and hyenas, as these antelopes now are.”To this unqualified surmise, Congo did not wholly give his assent. He believed that men would not be likely to drink a sufficient quantity of the water to cause death; though he further stated that their cattle and horses, had they quenched their thirst at the pond, would have been killed to a certainty.For the sake of procuring three or four antelopes for food, with the least trouble, the Bechuanas had destroyed a whole herd. This is the usual economy practised by those who live in a land teeming with a too great abundance of animal life.To get away from the sickening scene thus presented to their view, even Groot Willem was willing to continue the journey; and it was resumed, all being thankful that the distance accomplished on the day before had not been so long, by a mile or two, as it might have been.Knowing that they were in the neighbourhood of Bechuanas, the Makololo professed some fear for their cattle. They said that these might be stolen or taken from them by force. But the hunters believed such fears too flattering to the Bechuana character. From all they had heard of the people composing that numerous nation, they were under the impression that they were too cowardly and indolent to be regarded with any apprehension.The next morning, when continuing their journey, Arend, who was riding a little in advance, suddenly reined up, at the same time, calling out—“I see a kraal and a field of maize.”Groot Willem and Hendrik rode forward, and became convinced that Arend was in the right. Almost at the same instant, the hunter descried other objects in which he was more interested than in a village of Bechuanas, or anything belonging to them. Two large elephants were seen moving across the plain, in the direction of the maize-field.“Let us steal upon them silently,” suggested Willem. “We need not all go. Two or three will be enough. Some one must stay with the cattle.”Saying this, he rode off, followed by Hendrik and Arend.Hans assented to stay behind, attended by Swartboy; and Congo, with the assistance of the Makololo, halted the cattle and pack-horses; thus tarrying, they were witnesses of what they expected to prove an interesting scene. They saw nothing to prevent the stalkers from obtaining a fine opportunity for a shot; and they knew that a wounded elephant seldom seeks safety in flight. One or both of the animals would be killed; and the violent death of an elephant is, under all circumstances, a spectacle painfully interesting.“But for us,” said Groot Willem, as he rode by the side of Hendrik, “those elephants would destroy that field of maize. The owners of the field could not prevent them, if they were to try. They cannot even frighten them away from their work of devastation.”The young hunter was soon to be undeceived.
On the evening of the eighth day after leaving Macora the hunters encamped on the bank of a small stream, which they computed to be about one hundred and twenty miles south of the place from where their return journey commenced.
Within the mind of Groot Willem, there was still a lingering hope that they might again meet with giraffes; and he had never lost an opportunity of looking for them along the route.
The delays caused by his explorations had been a source of constant annoyance to the others; but as Willem had a will of his own,—one, nevertheless, united with a disposition so cheerful as to be proof against any attempts at a controversy,—his companions were compelled to be content with the knowledge that they were slowly progressing towards Graaf Reinet.
In the morning after entering their new camp, they arose to look upon a scene more beautiful than any other they had yet beheld in the extended country over which they had wandered. Near them was a grove of oleander bushes, loaded with beautiful blossoms. Every branch was adorned by the presence of two or more beautiful green sugar-birds,—thecerthia (Nectarinia) famosa. Nothing in nature can exceed in splendour the plumage of the sugar-bird. The little vale in which the hunters had encamped seemed a paradise, bathed in golden sunlight; and even the cattle appeared to leave it with some reluctance.
On moving down the bed of the watercourse, they found that they were not travelling by the side of a running stream, but by what, in the dry season, was a chain of lakelets or water-holes. After crossing a bar between two of these ponds, they were much annoyed by a horrible stench borne upon the breeze, and coming from the direction they intended to take. As they journeyed on, so offensive grew the smell that a halt was made, and a resolution passed without a dissenting voice, that they should turn to the east and get to windward of this offensive odour, still unexplained.
While doing this, they observed to the west, a flock of vultures, wheeling high up in the air; and, down upon the plain below, hundreds of jackals and hyenas were seen leaping about. So large an assemblage of these carrion-feeding creatures called for an explanation; and, on riding nearer, the hunters saw a number of dead antelopes lying within a few feet of each other.
As they rode farther along the plain, more dead antelopes were seen, and they began to fear that they had entered some valley of death, from which they might never go out. The mystery—for such it was to them—was readily cleared up by the Makololo and Congo. The antelopes had been drinking water from a pond or spring poisoned by the natives; which proved that our travellers had arrived in the neighbourhood of some tribe of the Bechuanas. Of this method for wantonly destroying animal life, practised by many of the native African tribes, the hunters had often heard. The many stories which they had been told of the wholesale destruction of game by poison, and which they had treated with incredulity, after all, had not been exaggerated. They estimated the number of dead antelopes lying within a circumference of a mile, at not less than two hundred. One of the water-holes of the chain by which they had halted, had been poisoned. A herd of antelopes had quenched their thirst at the place, and had only climbed up the bank to lie down and die.
“We have been very fortunate,” remarked Groot Willem, “in not encamping by the poisoned water ourselves. Had we done so, we would all, by this time, have been food for the jackals and hyenas, as these antelopes now are.”
To this unqualified surmise, Congo did not wholly give his assent. He believed that men would not be likely to drink a sufficient quantity of the water to cause death; though he further stated that their cattle and horses, had they quenched their thirst at the pond, would have been killed to a certainty.
For the sake of procuring three or four antelopes for food, with the least trouble, the Bechuanas had destroyed a whole herd. This is the usual economy practised by those who live in a land teeming with a too great abundance of animal life.
To get away from the sickening scene thus presented to their view, even Groot Willem was willing to continue the journey; and it was resumed, all being thankful that the distance accomplished on the day before had not been so long, by a mile or two, as it might have been.
Knowing that they were in the neighbourhood of Bechuanas, the Makololo professed some fear for their cattle. They said that these might be stolen or taken from them by force. But the hunters believed such fears too flattering to the Bechuana character. From all they had heard of the people composing that numerous nation, they were under the impression that they were too cowardly and indolent to be regarded with any apprehension.
The next morning, when continuing their journey, Arend, who was riding a little in advance, suddenly reined up, at the same time, calling out—
“I see a kraal and a field of maize.”
Groot Willem and Hendrik rode forward, and became convinced that Arend was in the right. Almost at the same instant, the hunter descried other objects in which he was more interested than in a village of Bechuanas, or anything belonging to them. Two large elephants were seen moving across the plain, in the direction of the maize-field.
“Let us steal upon them silently,” suggested Willem. “We need not all go. Two or three will be enough. Some one must stay with the cattle.”
Saying this, he rode off, followed by Hendrik and Arend.
Hans assented to stay behind, attended by Swartboy; and Congo, with the assistance of the Makololo, halted the cattle and pack-horses; thus tarrying, they were witnesses of what they expected to prove an interesting scene. They saw nothing to prevent the stalkers from obtaining a fine opportunity for a shot; and they knew that a wounded elephant seldom seeks safety in flight. One or both of the animals would be killed; and the violent death of an elephant is, under all circumstances, a spectacle painfully interesting.
“But for us,” said Groot Willem, as he rode by the side of Hendrik, “those elephants would destroy that field of maize. The owners of the field could not prevent them, if they were to try. They cannot even frighten them away from their work of devastation.”
The young hunter was soon to be undeceived.
Chapter Forty Three.Excitement for all.The two elephants were moving along what seemed to be a narrow path leading to the maize-field, or the kraal beyond it. They were in no great haste, but going as though conscious that a favourite article of food was near, and that they were pretty sure of obtaining it.“When once they get engaged upon the corn,” said Hendrik, “they are ours. They won’t notice us, and we shall have an opportunity for getting a good shot.”Suddenly one of the elephants—the foremost one—was seen to sink into the earth! The other stopped for a moment, as though endeavouring to comprehend the cause of his companion’s disappearance. It then turned round and commenced carefully treading the back track.“A pit,” exclaimed Hendrik. “One of the elephants has gone down into a pit.”“On, on! let us kill the other,” shouted Groot Willem, as he urged his gigantic horse into a gallop. Hendrik and Arend galloped after.The retreating elephant was apparently in no haste to get out of their way, but moved leisurely along.When the three youths were within a hundred yards of it, uttering a trumpet-like sound, it turned and charged toward them. Expecting something of the kind, they were not unprepared. Groot Willem instantly brought the roer to his shoulder and fired.The loud report of the gun was accompanied by the sharp cracks of the two rifles carried by his companions. Hendrik and Arend wheeled their horses to the right; Willem turned to the left, and the huge monster rushed between them.For a moment it stopped, as if undecided which to pursue first. Had the three gone in the same direction, there probably would not have been an instant’s hesitation, and one of them would have risked being overtaken. That moment of indecision gave them time for forming a plan, and gaining a start upon their pursuer.“The pit! the pit!” shouted Hendrik. “Ride for the pit!”His command was instantly obeyed.The elephant turned, and, observing the direction of their retreat, continued to pursue them; but in a slow, leisurely way, as though not wholly decided whether to follow them or not. At that instant was heard a loud prolonged bellowing,—the voice of an elephant in the agony of despair. It proceeded from the pit.The pursuer instantly came to a stand. The cry of its companion in distress awoke a feeling more human than that of revenge. It was fear,—a fear that seemed to control its power of reasoning, since it immediately turned tail and retreated from the danger that had befallen its friend. While making its retreat, it appeared to choose the tracks made by the horses in approaching the spot; as though instinct admonished it that by so doing it would avoid any pitfalls that might be constructed on the plain.“After him! Follow him up,” cried Arend. “Hans is in danger.”Only a short while was spent in reloading their guns; then, urging their horses to the greatest speed, they galloped after the elephant.Hans and his dusky companions had not been uninterested spectators of the actions of the others, and now saw that they would soon be called upon to become actors in a similar scene. The elephant was rushing rapidly down upon them, but the thought of flight only arose in their minds to be immediately dismissed. The pack-horses must be defended at all cost; and the young botanist, bidding Swartboy and Congo look after them, rode out in front to meet the advancing foe.He was mounted on a horse that would not stand quiet for two seconds at a time; and as his life might depend on the correctness of his aim, he dismounted for the purpose of firing. His horse, released, galloped away from his side. The wounded elephant was not more than fifty paces off, and now turned in pursuit of the horse, apparently without seeing the enemy it should have feared most.This was the opportunity for Hans, and he did not allow it to escape him. Steadily raising the gun to his shoulder, he aimed at the huge creature, just behind its fore leg, as the latter was thrown forward in the stride. On shambled the enraged monster with a deafening roar.The other horses had already broken from the control of their keepers, and were galloping in different directions. A few long stretches and the tusks of the elephant were close upon Congo’s steed, which chanced to be crossing the line of pursuit at right angles. In another instant the horse was tossed into the air, and, passing six or eight feet high above the monster’s back, fell heavily upon the ground behind it. But the Kaffir had slid out of the saddle and stood upon the ground unharmed.The effort made in destroying the horse was the last the wounded elephant was able to perform. The dogs were clustering upon its heels; and as it reeled wildly about to get at them, it seemed to grow giddy, and at length fell heavily along the earth.“I do believe,” said Hendrik, who at this moment rode up along with Willem and Arend,—“yes, I’m quite certain that the dogs think they have dragged that elephant down!”“Den they is as big an ole fool as Congo,” said Swartboy who was annoyed at the fact that the Kaffir had just performed a feat for which he would receive the approbation of his young masters. Congo only answered with a smile. He had again aroused the jealousy of his rival, and was satisfied.The elephant, which proved to be a very large bull, expired a few minutes after falling. Its tusks were over five feet in length, and to Swartboy was given the task of extracting them.The horse ridden by Congo was of course no longer available; and the lading of another had to be distributed amongst the remaining pack-horses, to provide the Kaffir with a mount. The spot was soon deserted.Hendrik, Groot Willem, and Arend, were anxious to be off to the pit, into which the other elephant had fallen, having never seen one caught in that way before.“Hans,” inquired Hendrik, “will you look after everything here, or will you come along with us?”“O, I prefer staying,” said the quiet Hans. “Perhaps by doing so I may again come in for the lion’s share of the sport, as I have just now.”“We must take Congo along with us,” suggested Arend. “It is certain there will be some of the natives at the pit. We saw several houses near the maize-field, and there is no doubt a large kraal.”“Yes, come with us, Congo,” commanded his master, as he rode off, followed by all the others except the good-natured Hans and his servant Swartboy, who usually came in for the biggest share of the business, while the others appropriated the amusement.
The two elephants were moving along what seemed to be a narrow path leading to the maize-field, or the kraal beyond it. They were in no great haste, but going as though conscious that a favourite article of food was near, and that they were pretty sure of obtaining it.
“When once they get engaged upon the corn,” said Hendrik, “they are ours. They won’t notice us, and we shall have an opportunity for getting a good shot.”
Suddenly one of the elephants—the foremost one—was seen to sink into the earth! The other stopped for a moment, as though endeavouring to comprehend the cause of his companion’s disappearance. It then turned round and commenced carefully treading the back track.
“A pit,” exclaimed Hendrik. “One of the elephants has gone down into a pit.”
“On, on! let us kill the other,” shouted Groot Willem, as he urged his gigantic horse into a gallop. Hendrik and Arend galloped after.
The retreating elephant was apparently in no haste to get out of their way, but moved leisurely along.
When the three youths were within a hundred yards of it, uttering a trumpet-like sound, it turned and charged toward them. Expecting something of the kind, they were not unprepared. Groot Willem instantly brought the roer to his shoulder and fired.
The loud report of the gun was accompanied by the sharp cracks of the two rifles carried by his companions. Hendrik and Arend wheeled their horses to the right; Willem turned to the left, and the huge monster rushed between them.
For a moment it stopped, as if undecided which to pursue first. Had the three gone in the same direction, there probably would not have been an instant’s hesitation, and one of them would have risked being overtaken. That moment of indecision gave them time for forming a plan, and gaining a start upon their pursuer.
“The pit! the pit!” shouted Hendrik. “Ride for the pit!”
His command was instantly obeyed.
The elephant turned, and, observing the direction of their retreat, continued to pursue them; but in a slow, leisurely way, as though not wholly decided whether to follow them or not. At that instant was heard a loud prolonged bellowing,—the voice of an elephant in the agony of despair. It proceeded from the pit.
The pursuer instantly came to a stand. The cry of its companion in distress awoke a feeling more human than that of revenge. It was fear,—a fear that seemed to control its power of reasoning, since it immediately turned tail and retreated from the danger that had befallen its friend. While making its retreat, it appeared to choose the tracks made by the horses in approaching the spot; as though instinct admonished it that by so doing it would avoid any pitfalls that might be constructed on the plain.
“After him! Follow him up,” cried Arend. “Hans is in danger.”
Only a short while was spent in reloading their guns; then, urging their horses to the greatest speed, they galloped after the elephant.
Hans and his dusky companions had not been uninterested spectators of the actions of the others, and now saw that they would soon be called upon to become actors in a similar scene. The elephant was rushing rapidly down upon them, but the thought of flight only arose in their minds to be immediately dismissed. The pack-horses must be defended at all cost; and the young botanist, bidding Swartboy and Congo look after them, rode out in front to meet the advancing foe.
He was mounted on a horse that would not stand quiet for two seconds at a time; and as his life might depend on the correctness of his aim, he dismounted for the purpose of firing. His horse, released, galloped away from his side. The wounded elephant was not more than fifty paces off, and now turned in pursuit of the horse, apparently without seeing the enemy it should have feared most.
This was the opportunity for Hans, and he did not allow it to escape him. Steadily raising the gun to his shoulder, he aimed at the huge creature, just behind its fore leg, as the latter was thrown forward in the stride. On shambled the enraged monster with a deafening roar.
The other horses had already broken from the control of their keepers, and were galloping in different directions. A few long stretches and the tusks of the elephant were close upon Congo’s steed, which chanced to be crossing the line of pursuit at right angles. In another instant the horse was tossed into the air, and, passing six or eight feet high above the monster’s back, fell heavily upon the ground behind it. But the Kaffir had slid out of the saddle and stood upon the ground unharmed.
The effort made in destroying the horse was the last the wounded elephant was able to perform. The dogs were clustering upon its heels; and as it reeled wildly about to get at them, it seemed to grow giddy, and at length fell heavily along the earth.
“I do believe,” said Hendrik, who at this moment rode up along with Willem and Arend,—“yes, I’m quite certain that the dogs think they have dragged that elephant down!”
“Den they is as big an ole fool as Congo,” said Swartboy who was annoyed at the fact that the Kaffir had just performed a feat for which he would receive the approbation of his young masters. Congo only answered with a smile. He had again aroused the jealousy of his rival, and was satisfied.
The elephant, which proved to be a very large bull, expired a few minutes after falling. Its tusks were over five feet in length, and to Swartboy was given the task of extracting them.
The horse ridden by Congo was of course no longer available; and the lading of another had to be distributed amongst the remaining pack-horses, to provide the Kaffir with a mount. The spot was soon deserted.
Hendrik, Groot Willem, and Arend, were anxious to be off to the pit, into which the other elephant had fallen, having never seen one caught in that way before.
“Hans,” inquired Hendrik, “will you look after everything here, or will you come along with us?”
“O, I prefer staying,” said the quiet Hans. “Perhaps by doing so I may again come in for the lion’s share of the sport, as I have just now.”
“We must take Congo along with us,” suggested Arend. “It is certain there will be some of the natives at the pit. We saw several houses near the maize-field, and there is no doubt a large kraal.”
“Yes, come with us, Congo,” commanded his master, as he rode off, followed by all the others except the good-natured Hans and his servant Swartboy, who usually came in for the biggest share of the business, while the others appropriated the amusement.
Chapter Forty Four.The Pit.We believe there is a different sound expressed by each of the words, roar, shriek, yell, and scream: but the first expression of pain or terror of the elephant in the pit,—the sound that had caused its companion to retreat, seemed a combination of all the above. Since it first shook the surrounding atmosphere, it had been often repeated and the young hunters, familiar with most methods of killing elephants, were under the impression that the one in the pit was being subjected to some torture more horrible than any they had ever heard of.“They have probably placed a pointed stake in the pit,” observed Hendrik, as they approached, “and the animal is impaled upon it.”On coming nearer to the place, they saw that there were people around the pit,—both men and women. One of the men, intensely Ethiopic in appearance, came forward as the hunting party approached, and by signs offered for sale the tusks of the elephant still roaring underneath them.“We are safe with these people,” remarked Congo. “They are used to traders, and will do us no more harm than to cheat us in a bargain, if they can.”On arriving at the pit, our adventurers saw that it was not a square hole with an upright stake in the centre, as Hendrik had supposed. It was oval at the top and contracted to a point at the bottom, in the shape of an inverted cone, leaving no level space on which the elephant could stand. Its four feet were jammed together; and, compelled to support the weight of its immense body in this position, the agony it suffered must have been as intense as the creature was capable of enduring.This pit, the plan of which was devised with devilish ingenuity for producing unnecessary torture, was about nine feet long and apparently seven or eight in depth, and the struggles of the elephant only had the effect of wedging its huge feet more closely together and increasing its tortures.Two pits had been dug but a short distance from one another; and the wisdom of this plan had a living illustration before their eyes. Although the two had been nicely concealed, and the excavated earth carried away from the place, both had been discovered by the elephant, but one of them too late. Had there been but one, it would not have been caught, for it evidently had placed a foot on the first, detected the hidden danger, and, while in the act of avoiding it, had fallen suddenly and irrecoverably on to the other.All the men standing around were armed, the most of them with assegais or spears, but they were making no attempt to end the agony of the captured elephant.Groot Willem stepped in front of it, and was raising the long barrel of his roer to the level of one of the elephant’s eyes, when he was stopped by two or three of the blacks, who rushed forward and restrained him from discharging the piece.Congo, who had professed to understand what they said, told Willem that the elephant was not to be killed at present.“What can be the reason of that?” exclaimed Arend. “Can they wish the animal to live, merely for the sake of witnessing its sufferings? It cannot be saved. It must die where it is now.”“I’ll tell you how it is,” said Hendrik. “They have a fine taste for music, and they intend keeping the elephant in that pit, like a bird in its cage, for the purpose of hearing the fine notes it is giving out.”One of the blacks was armed with a gun, all but the lock, which last was wanting! The attention of Groot Willem was particularly directed to this weapon, its owner holding it out before him, and making signs that he wished some powder and a bullet for the purpose of loading it. Willem desired to be informed how the ammunition was to be used, but the black, by a shake of his woolly head, candidly admitted that he did not know.“Ask him what he brought the gun here for,” said Willem, speaking to Congo.In answer to the question, the man made another confession of ignorance.A little excitement was now observed amongst the blacks, and another party was seen approaching from the direction of the village. They brought news that the head man of the kraal was coming in person, and that he was to have the honour of killing the elephant. He had lately purchased a new gun from somesmouseor trader, and he was about to exhibit his skill in the use of it, before the eyes of his admiring subjects.On the arrival of the chief, the young hunters saw that the gun in his possession was a common soldier’s musket, very much out of order, and one that a sportsman would hesitate about discharging.“The man will never kill the great brute with that thing,” said Hendrik. “He will be far more likely to kill himself, or some of those around him. If the elephant waits till it is despatched in that way, it stands a good chance to die of starvation.”The chief seemed very vain of being the owner of a gun, and anxious to show to his subjects the proper mode of despatching an elephant. Standing about twenty-five paces from the pit, he took aim at the animal’s head and fired.The report of the musket was followed by a roar more expressive of rage than pain, and a small protuberance on the elephant’s head showed that the ball had done no more than to cause a slight abrasion of the skin. The operation of reloading the musket was performed in about six minutes and again the chief fired. This time, standing at the distance of fifteen paces. The elephant again astonished the chief and his followers, by continuing to live.Another six or seven minutes were passed in loading the gun, which was again fired as before. The only acknowledgment the huge beast made of having received the shot, was another loud cry of impotent rage.The company around the pit was then joined by a party not hitherto on the ground. It consisted of Hans with Swartboy and the other followers of the expedition. They had extracted the tusks of their elephant, lashed them with rheims to the pack-saddles of two horses, and brought them along.“What is all this about?” asked Hans. “Can’t you kill that elephant? I’ve heard several shots.”“They will not allow us to try,” replied Groot Willem. “A chief is trying to kill it with an old musket, and will neither allow me to fire, nor that well-armed gentleman standing near him.” Willem pointed to him who carried the gun without a lock.At this moment, a communication was made to the Kaffir by the native chief. Annoyed at his want of success, he had some doubts as to his weapon being what had been represented by the smouse from whom he had purchased it. He wished to make a comparison of its destructive power with one of their guns, and Groot Willem was invited to take a shot at the elephant.“But, baas Willem,” said Congo, as he finished this communication, “you not do that, you not shoot the elephant.”“Why?” asked Willem, in surprise.“You kill um with you roer, and then they want from you. They want it, and sure take it.”“Take what—the elephant?”“No, baas Willem, the roer,” answered the Kaffir.Though not afraid of having his gun taken from him, Groot Willem and his companions were unwilling to have any difficulty with the blacks; and the invitation of the chief was courteously declined. The excuse made was that, after the failure of the great man himself, any similar attempts on their part would certainly be unsuccessful.A general invitation was now given to the company to join in despatching the elephant; and it was immediately assailed by more than a dozen men armed with assegais and javelins. They succeeded in killing it in a little less than half an hour; and, during that time, the torture to which the poor beast was subjected aroused the indignation of our adventurers, who, if allowed, could have released it from its agonies in half a score of seconds. They were true hunters, and, although not sparing of animal life, they took no delight in its tortures.
We believe there is a different sound expressed by each of the words, roar, shriek, yell, and scream: but the first expression of pain or terror of the elephant in the pit,—the sound that had caused its companion to retreat, seemed a combination of all the above. Since it first shook the surrounding atmosphere, it had been often repeated and the young hunters, familiar with most methods of killing elephants, were under the impression that the one in the pit was being subjected to some torture more horrible than any they had ever heard of.
“They have probably placed a pointed stake in the pit,” observed Hendrik, as they approached, “and the animal is impaled upon it.”
On coming nearer to the place, they saw that there were people around the pit,—both men and women. One of the men, intensely Ethiopic in appearance, came forward as the hunting party approached, and by signs offered for sale the tusks of the elephant still roaring underneath them.
“We are safe with these people,” remarked Congo. “They are used to traders, and will do us no more harm than to cheat us in a bargain, if they can.”
On arriving at the pit, our adventurers saw that it was not a square hole with an upright stake in the centre, as Hendrik had supposed. It was oval at the top and contracted to a point at the bottom, in the shape of an inverted cone, leaving no level space on which the elephant could stand. Its four feet were jammed together; and, compelled to support the weight of its immense body in this position, the agony it suffered must have been as intense as the creature was capable of enduring.
This pit, the plan of which was devised with devilish ingenuity for producing unnecessary torture, was about nine feet long and apparently seven or eight in depth, and the struggles of the elephant only had the effect of wedging its huge feet more closely together and increasing its tortures.
Two pits had been dug but a short distance from one another; and the wisdom of this plan had a living illustration before their eyes. Although the two had been nicely concealed, and the excavated earth carried away from the place, both had been discovered by the elephant, but one of them too late. Had there been but one, it would not have been caught, for it evidently had placed a foot on the first, detected the hidden danger, and, while in the act of avoiding it, had fallen suddenly and irrecoverably on to the other.
All the men standing around were armed, the most of them with assegais or spears, but they were making no attempt to end the agony of the captured elephant.
Groot Willem stepped in front of it, and was raising the long barrel of his roer to the level of one of the elephant’s eyes, when he was stopped by two or three of the blacks, who rushed forward and restrained him from discharging the piece.
Congo, who had professed to understand what they said, told Willem that the elephant was not to be killed at present.
“What can be the reason of that?” exclaimed Arend. “Can they wish the animal to live, merely for the sake of witnessing its sufferings? It cannot be saved. It must die where it is now.”
“I’ll tell you how it is,” said Hendrik. “They have a fine taste for music, and they intend keeping the elephant in that pit, like a bird in its cage, for the purpose of hearing the fine notes it is giving out.”
One of the blacks was armed with a gun, all but the lock, which last was wanting! The attention of Groot Willem was particularly directed to this weapon, its owner holding it out before him, and making signs that he wished some powder and a bullet for the purpose of loading it. Willem desired to be informed how the ammunition was to be used, but the black, by a shake of his woolly head, candidly admitted that he did not know.
“Ask him what he brought the gun here for,” said Willem, speaking to Congo.
In answer to the question, the man made another confession of ignorance.
A little excitement was now observed amongst the blacks, and another party was seen approaching from the direction of the village. They brought news that the head man of the kraal was coming in person, and that he was to have the honour of killing the elephant. He had lately purchased a new gun from somesmouseor trader, and he was about to exhibit his skill in the use of it, before the eyes of his admiring subjects.
On the arrival of the chief, the young hunters saw that the gun in his possession was a common soldier’s musket, very much out of order, and one that a sportsman would hesitate about discharging.
“The man will never kill the great brute with that thing,” said Hendrik. “He will be far more likely to kill himself, or some of those around him. If the elephant waits till it is despatched in that way, it stands a good chance to die of starvation.”
The chief seemed very vain of being the owner of a gun, and anxious to show to his subjects the proper mode of despatching an elephant. Standing about twenty-five paces from the pit, he took aim at the animal’s head and fired.
The report of the musket was followed by a roar more expressive of rage than pain, and a small protuberance on the elephant’s head showed that the ball had done no more than to cause a slight abrasion of the skin. The operation of reloading the musket was performed in about six minutes and again the chief fired. This time, standing at the distance of fifteen paces. The elephant again astonished the chief and his followers, by continuing to live.
Another six or seven minutes were passed in loading the gun, which was again fired as before. The only acknowledgment the huge beast made of having received the shot, was another loud cry of impotent rage.
The company around the pit was then joined by a party not hitherto on the ground. It consisted of Hans with Swartboy and the other followers of the expedition. They had extracted the tusks of their elephant, lashed them with rheims to the pack-saddles of two horses, and brought them along.
“What is all this about?” asked Hans. “Can’t you kill that elephant? I’ve heard several shots.”
“They will not allow us to try,” replied Groot Willem. “A chief is trying to kill it with an old musket, and will neither allow me to fire, nor that well-armed gentleman standing near him.” Willem pointed to him who carried the gun without a lock.
At this moment, a communication was made to the Kaffir by the native chief. Annoyed at his want of success, he had some doubts as to his weapon being what had been represented by the smouse from whom he had purchased it. He wished to make a comparison of its destructive power with one of their guns, and Groot Willem was invited to take a shot at the elephant.
“But, baas Willem,” said Congo, as he finished this communication, “you not do that, you not shoot the elephant.”
“Why?” asked Willem, in surprise.
“You kill um with you roer, and then they want from you. They want it, and sure take it.”
“Take what—the elephant?”
“No, baas Willem, the roer,” answered the Kaffir.
Though not afraid of having his gun taken from him, Groot Willem and his companions were unwilling to have any difficulty with the blacks; and the invitation of the chief was courteously declined. The excuse made was that, after the failure of the great man himself, any similar attempts on their part would certainly be unsuccessful.
A general invitation was now given to the company to join in despatching the elephant; and it was immediately assailed by more than a dozen men armed with assegais and javelins. They succeeded in killing it in a little less than half an hour; and, during that time, the torture to which the poor beast was subjected aroused the indignation of our adventurers, who, if allowed, could have released it from its agonies in half a score of seconds. They were true hunters, and, although not sparing of animal life, they took no delight in its tortures.