Chapter Thirty Five.The Little Hyrax.It is not quite correct to say that they stood upon the summit. They had reached the top of the hill, but still above them rose the steeple-like rock which they had observed from the plain, and whose odd appearance had allured them to the spot.A singular rock it was, rising full thirty feet above the summit of the mountain. Its sides were nearly vertical, but scored and seamed as if the rain had worn its surface into furrows. It gradually narrowed upward, until it ended in a point not four inches in diameter; but along its sides from top to bottom similar points stood up; so that the whole structure—if we may call it so—bore a strong resemblance to a Gothic turret, rising in the midst of many others that stood out from its base and along its sides.It appeared inaccessible to any other creature than a cat, a monkey, or a winged bird; and of course not one of the party thought of such a thing as climbing it. That would have been a perilous undertaking.After they had satisfied themselves in gazing at this singular geological phenomenon, they commenced moving around its base to the opposite side. It was not so easy to get round it, as huge sharp boulders covered the whole scarp of the hill around its base, and they had either to mount over these, or push themselves through the narrow interstices between.Before they had got quite round, however, an object came under their eyes that caused them to halt, and remain for some time in an attitude of observation.About half-way down the hill rested a rock of vast dimensions, whose sharp angular top rose higher than those around, and commanded the view of a broad space of the mountain-side. Upon the top of this rock was perched a very large bird—full as large as a turkey-cock. Its plumage was of a deep black colour, except over the back, where there was a patch as white as snow covering the shoulders. The feathers upon the legs reached to the very toes, and were of brown colour. The toes appearing beneath were of a bright yellow.The general outline of its form—the abrupt curving of the beak—the full-rounded tail—the strong broad wings, and the feathered legs looking as though the bird woretrowsers—were all characteristic points that told its species.“An eagle!” exclaimed the hunters as soon as they saw it.It was an eagle, and one of the largest of its kind. It was the great vulture-eagle of Verreaux, (Aquila Verreauxii). This bird no doubt it was that Klaas and Jan had caught a glimpse of as they approached the mountain.It was scarce two hundred yards from the boys, and although they had been making a considerable noise while passing over the rocks, it had not heard them, and still sat without noticing their proximity. That would have been strange for a bird so shy as an eagle; but it was accounted for by the fact that its attention at the moment seemed to be taken up with something else. This was evident from the attitude in which it sat, or rather stood, with claws firmly clenched upon the edge of the rock, and neck stretched forward and downward. It was evidently eyeing some object below, in which it took a deep interest.Its back was turned upon the hunters, and offered a fair mark; but it was far beyond point-blank range of any of their guns, except perhaps the roer. Groot Willem, however, might have reached it, but at such a distance and with so small a mark a bullet from the smooth bore would have been little better than a chance shot.Groot Willem was about to try it, however; but Hans begged of him to hold his fire a little longer, so that they might watch the movements of the eagle—which, from its odd attitude, was evidently meditating to surprise some victim below.It was not long before the victim was also in sight—appearing suddenly upon a little terrace, some twenty or thirty yards farther down the mountain. It was a small quadruped, of a greyish brown colour, darker above, and of lighter tint beneath. It had the look of a rabbit, though considerably larger than one, thicker in the body, and without the long ears. It stood, moreover, not so high on its legs, and these appeared much bent as it walked. Like the rabbit, its hair was of a thick woolly nature, though long scattered silky hairs rose above the general surface of its furry coat it was entirely without a tail; and the four claws of its fore feet werenotclaws, but nails resembling little hoofs? On the hind-feet it had but three toes; the inside one of each ending in a regular claw.Of course, these peculiarities were not noticed by the spectators at the moment, as the little quadruped was beyond the reach of such minute observation. They were communicated afterwards by Hans, who knew the animal well.Altogether it was by no means an interesting animal to look at externally; yet in its internal structure it was one of the most interesting upon the globe.In that small round woolly creature, timid as a mouse—now making abrupt runs across the little platform—now stopping short in its career, to nibble a leaf of some plant, or to look suspiciously around—in that insignificant quadruped the young yägers beheld a near relative of the big brutal rhinoceros! Yes; though without any horn upon its snout, and without the naked skin—the teeth, the skull, the ribs, the hoof-like toes, the whole internal structure of the animal in question, prove it to be a rhinoceros!—a regular pachyderm! So says Frederick Cuvier.“What a wonderful triumph,” said Hans, “the closet naturalists have had in this discovery! ‘What a triumph of anatomy,’ says M. Cuvier, ‘that proves this supposed rodent to be a rhinoceros!’ In my opinion it is rather a proof of the weakness of M. Cuvier’s anatomic theories; for here is a creature, with all theteethof a rhinoceros, and all themannersof a rabbit!“Instead of the bold brutal nature of the rhinoceros—rushing out without provocation, attacking and butting at whatever comes in its way—here we have a shy timid creature, that takes to flight on the slightest suspicion of danger, and seems to be frightened at its very shadow. Why, it affords the most absolute proof of the uncertainty of theteethandbonesas a guide to the mode of life of any animal. In all animated nature a better illustration could not be found of the fallacy of M. Cuvier’s arguments than this samehyrax—for so the quadruped is called—and, despite the opinion of the celebrated French savant, I still believe the little creature to be more of a rabbit than a rhinoceros.” So spoke Hans Von Bloom. It was bold language for so young a naturalist!It is true there was much reason in his holding to the opinion that the hyrax is no pachyderm. Its habits are so unlike those of the thick-skinned brutes—its mode of life so different from that of a rhinoceros.Its habits are very simple, and can be told in a few words. It is gregarious; dwells upon the mountains, and in the most rocky places; makes its den in the crevices and caves that are found there, steals forth to eat or bask in the sun; runs timidly and with a shy suspicious look; feeds on grass and leaves of plants, and is fond of those of aromatic properties; can escape from most carnivorous quadrupeds, but is successfully preyed upon by birds, and especially by the vulture-eagle—the species already described. Such is the history of the “daman” or “hyrax,” “dassie,” “rock-badger,” or “rock-rabbit”—by all of which names the creature has figured in books.It is one of those anomalies that cannot be classed with other quadrupeds, and has been constituted a genus of itself. Two species are known, differing very slightly from each other. They areHyrax SyriacusandCapensis, or the Syrian and Cape hyrax.One of the most interesting facts in relation to this quadruped is, that the Syrian species is most probably the “coney” of the Scriptures. In fact, the description can apply to no other existing animal.I have said that all this knowledge was obtained afterwards from the philosopher, Hans.Just then there was no time for such observations; for the hyrax, with two or three of its companions, had scarce appeared from the platform, when the eagle shot down from the rock, and swooped right into the midst of them.The boys heard the shrill cry of the little quadrupeds, as the shadowy wings covered them; and expected to see the eagle rise with one of them in its talons.They were disappointed, however, as well as the bird itself. The “rock-rabbits” had been too quick for their well-known and dreaded enemy; and before the eagle was able to put a claw into their wool, they had all scattered, and rushed within the safe shelter of their dark caves.Of course, they were not coming out any more that afternoon. The eagle seemed to have this very idea; for, rising into the air with a scream of disappointment, it flew off towards the other side of the mountain.
It is not quite correct to say that they stood upon the summit. They had reached the top of the hill, but still above them rose the steeple-like rock which they had observed from the plain, and whose odd appearance had allured them to the spot.
A singular rock it was, rising full thirty feet above the summit of the mountain. Its sides were nearly vertical, but scored and seamed as if the rain had worn its surface into furrows. It gradually narrowed upward, until it ended in a point not four inches in diameter; but along its sides from top to bottom similar points stood up; so that the whole structure—if we may call it so—bore a strong resemblance to a Gothic turret, rising in the midst of many others that stood out from its base and along its sides.
It appeared inaccessible to any other creature than a cat, a monkey, or a winged bird; and of course not one of the party thought of such a thing as climbing it. That would have been a perilous undertaking.
After they had satisfied themselves in gazing at this singular geological phenomenon, they commenced moving around its base to the opposite side. It was not so easy to get round it, as huge sharp boulders covered the whole scarp of the hill around its base, and they had either to mount over these, or push themselves through the narrow interstices between.
Before they had got quite round, however, an object came under their eyes that caused them to halt, and remain for some time in an attitude of observation.
About half-way down the hill rested a rock of vast dimensions, whose sharp angular top rose higher than those around, and commanded the view of a broad space of the mountain-side. Upon the top of this rock was perched a very large bird—full as large as a turkey-cock. Its plumage was of a deep black colour, except over the back, where there was a patch as white as snow covering the shoulders. The feathers upon the legs reached to the very toes, and were of brown colour. The toes appearing beneath were of a bright yellow.
The general outline of its form—the abrupt curving of the beak—the full-rounded tail—the strong broad wings, and the feathered legs looking as though the bird woretrowsers—were all characteristic points that told its species.
“An eagle!” exclaimed the hunters as soon as they saw it.
It was an eagle, and one of the largest of its kind. It was the great vulture-eagle of Verreaux, (Aquila Verreauxii). This bird no doubt it was that Klaas and Jan had caught a glimpse of as they approached the mountain.
It was scarce two hundred yards from the boys, and although they had been making a considerable noise while passing over the rocks, it had not heard them, and still sat without noticing their proximity. That would have been strange for a bird so shy as an eagle; but it was accounted for by the fact that its attention at the moment seemed to be taken up with something else. This was evident from the attitude in which it sat, or rather stood, with claws firmly clenched upon the edge of the rock, and neck stretched forward and downward. It was evidently eyeing some object below, in which it took a deep interest.
Its back was turned upon the hunters, and offered a fair mark; but it was far beyond point-blank range of any of their guns, except perhaps the roer. Groot Willem, however, might have reached it, but at such a distance and with so small a mark a bullet from the smooth bore would have been little better than a chance shot.
Groot Willem was about to try it, however; but Hans begged of him to hold his fire a little longer, so that they might watch the movements of the eagle—which, from its odd attitude, was evidently meditating to surprise some victim below.
It was not long before the victim was also in sight—appearing suddenly upon a little terrace, some twenty or thirty yards farther down the mountain. It was a small quadruped, of a greyish brown colour, darker above, and of lighter tint beneath. It had the look of a rabbit, though considerably larger than one, thicker in the body, and without the long ears. It stood, moreover, not so high on its legs, and these appeared much bent as it walked. Like the rabbit, its hair was of a thick woolly nature, though long scattered silky hairs rose above the general surface of its furry coat it was entirely without a tail; and the four claws of its fore feet werenotclaws, but nails resembling little hoofs? On the hind-feet it had but three toes; the inside one of each ending in a regular claw.
Of course, these peculiarities were not noticed by the spectators at the moment, as the little quadruped was beyond the reach of such minute observation. They were communicated afterwards by Hans, who knew the animal well.
Altogether it was by no means an interesting animal to look at externally; yet in its internal structure it was one of the most interesting upon the globe.
In that small round woolly creature, timid as a mouse—now making abrupt runs across the little platform—now stopping short in its career, to nibble a leaf of some plant, or to look suspiciously around—in that insignificant quadruped the young yägers beheld a near relative of the big brutal rhinoceros! Yes; though without any horn upon its snout, and without the naked skin—the teeth, the skull, the ribs, the hoof-like toes, the whole internal structure of the animal in question, prove it to be a rhinoceros!—a regular pachyderm! So says Frederick Cuvier.
“What a wonderful triumph,” said Hans, “the closet naturalists have had in this discovery! ‘What a triumph of anatomy,’ says M. Cuvier, ‘that proves this supposed rodent to be a rhinoceros!’ In my opinion it is rather a proof of the weakness of M. Cuvier’s anatomic theories; for here is a creature, with all theteethof a rhinoceros, and all themannersof a rabbit!
“Instead of the bold brutal nature of the rhinoceros—rushing out without provocation, attacking and butting at whatever comes in its way—here we have a shy timid creature, that takes to flight on the slightest suspicion of danger, and seems to be frightened at its very shadow. Why, it affords the most absolute proof of the uncertainty of theteethandbonesas a guide to the mode of life of any animal. In all animated nature a better illustration could not be found of the fallacy of M. Cuvier’s arguments than this samehyrax—for so the quadruped is called—and, despite the opinion of the celebrated French savant, I still believe the little creature to be more of a rabbit than a rhinoceros.” So spoke Hans Von Bloom. It was bold language for so young a naturalist!
It is true there was much reason in his holding to the opinion that the hyrax is no pachyderm. Its habits are so unlike those of the thick-skinned brutes—its mode of life so different from that of a rhinoceros.
Its habits are very simple, and can be told in a few words. It is gregarious; dwells upon the mountains, and in the most rocky places; makes its den in the crevices and caves that are found there, steals forth to eat or bask in the sun; runs timidly and with a shy suspicious look; feeds on grass and leaves of plants, and is fond of those of aromatic properties; can escape from most carnivorous quadrupeds, but is successfully preyed upon by birds, and especially by the vulture-eagle—the species already described. Such is the history of the “daman” or “hyrax,” “dassie,” “rock-badger,” or “rock-rabbit”—by all of which names the creature has figured in books.
It is one of those anomalies that cannot be classed with other quadrupeds, and has been constituted a genus of itself. Two species are known, differing very slightly from each other. They areHyrax SyriacusandCapensis, or the Syrian and Cape hyrax.
One of the most interesting facts in relation to this quadruped is, that the Syrian species is most probably the “coney” of the Scriptures. In fact, the description can apply to no other existing animal.
I have said that all this knowledge was obtained afterwards from the philosopher, Hans.
Just then there was no time for such observations; for the hyrax, with two or three of its companions, had scarce appeared from the platform, when the eagle shot down from the rock, and swooped right into the midst of them.
The boys heard the shrill cry of the little quadrupeds, as the shadowy wings covered them; and expected to see the eagle rise with one of them in its talons.
They were disappointed, however, as well as the bird itself. The “rock-rabbits” had been too quick for their well-known and dreaded enemy; and before the eagle was able to put a claw into their wool, they had all scattered, and rushed within the safe shelter of their dark caves.
Of course, they were not coming out any more that afternoon. The eagle seemed to have this very idea; for, rising into the air with a scream of disappointment, it flew off towards the other side of the mountain.
Chapter Thirty Six.The Klipspringers.In hopes of getting a shot at it on the wing, the boys crouched behind the boulders as it flew round, holding their guns in readiness. It passed them at too great a distance, and none of them fired.They expected to see it fly off, and wing its way towards the neighbouring mountains—as it could only be a stray visitor to the hill, some hungry old eagle out upon a hunt.It was about to do this; for it had already risen to a considerable elevation, and was heading away, when all at once it stopped suddenly in its flight, and balanced itself for some moments in the air, with neck bent downward, as if it had taken a fresh interest in some object that had just come under its eye below.Had the rock-rabbits ventured forth again? No. It could not be they; for the eagle was hovering over a different quarter—quite the opposite side of the mountain. If rock-rabbits were in sight, they must be a different party. That was not improbable. There might be others upon the mountain. And yet the eagle would not hover abovethemin that way. The habit of this species is not to “swoop” from on high, but to watch from a perch upon some neighbouring rock, and dash upon the hyrax, when it comes out to feed or bask—precisely as the boys had seen it do.So quick is the rock-rabbit in escaping to its retreat, that even an eagle, darting from a high elevation, would fail to clutch it. Had there been rock-rabbits below, they would have perceived the great black bird above, and would have secured themselves at once. It could not be they that were now occupying the attention of the vulture-eagle.It wasnotthey. Hans, who with his double-barrel had hoped to obtain a shot at the eagle, and had crept ahead of his companions to the other side of the tower-rock, saw that it was not rock-rabbits that had caused the eagle to pause in its flight, but some creatures of a very different character.About half-way down the slope grew a sandal-wood tree, one of the largest upon the mountain, with a full bushy top. Directly, under this tree was a mass of tabular rock, with a smooth top, quite horizontal, and several yards in length and breadth. Over this, and nearly covering its whole extent, the sandal-wood threw its protecting shadow; so that while the hot sun baked down upon the surrounding slope, the surface of the rock was kept shaded and cool. It was just such a spot as one would have chosen to have rested upon, commanding a far view of plains and picturesque mountains, and sweetly shaded from the burning noonday beams—just such a spot as the contemplative mind would have desired, and in which, freed from care, it could have delivered itself up to pleasant meditations.One cannot help fancying that many of God’s wild creatures, in selecting their haunts and homes, have an eye to the picturesque. I can tell at a glance the cliff in which an eagle will make its eyrie, the glade that will be haunted by the stag or the fallow-deer, the tree under which he will repose, and oft times it has appeared to me that these favourite haunts are chosen by animals less for the security they afford, than for the picturesque beauty that surrounds them.One could hardly have fancied that lone wild mountain—that smooth table-rock—that fragrant sandal-wood tree—without some living thing placed there by Nature to enjoy the scene, and give life to the picture—which would otherwise have been incomplete.It was not incomplete. It was crowned and perfect. The shade of the sandal-wood fell not in vain. Upon the surface of the table-rock was a group of living creatures born to enjoy that wild and lovely scene—created, as it were, to give a finish to the picture.There were three individuals in this group—three quadrupeds of a kind that had not been seen by the young yägers since the setting out of their expedition. Though these animals wore a similar coat of hair, and were of the same yellowish olive colour, all three were of different sizes. The largest was scarce so tall as a pointer-dog, while the smallest was still less than a tiny young kid. The second was not half-way between the two, but nearly equal in size to the largest. The principal difference between the latter two lay in the fact that the large one had a pair of horns upon its head, which the other wanted. There were no horns neither upon their tiny little companion. For all this difference, the three were evidently of the same genus and species, nay, nearer relations still—of the samefamily. They were a family ofklipspringers.Hans knew at once it was the klipspringer, (Oreotragus saltatrix), and so did all the others—for this interesting antelope is still found within the settled districts of the Cape Colony—wherever high inaccessible cliffs and rock-covered mountains afford it a secure retreat from dog, hunter, and hyena.Among the many interesting forms of the antelope tribe, that present themselves in South Africa, the klipspringer is not the least interesting. Though a very small creature, and of no great value to the hunter, it differs so much in its haunts and habits from others of the antelope race, as to make it an object of curiosity, even where it is common and often seen. Unlike the oryx, the gnoo, the hartebeest, the blesbok, the eland, and a host of others, the klipspringer never appears upon the plain. It is purely a mountain-dwelling animal, and the crag and cliff are its favourite haunts. There it is safe from the carnivorous beasts—the lion, the hyena, the wild-hounds, and the jackal—none of which can reach its secure retreat upon the ledges of the beetling precipice. Even the leopard cannot follow it there—notwithstanding his recurved claws that enable him to climb like a cat. On the steep cliffs, and along the dizzy heights, the klipspringer has no equal in South Africa; he can scale them as no other quadruped; he fears no four-footedbeastof prey. Three birds alone are his dangerous enemies—and these are the eagle of Verreaux, the Kaffir eagle, and the lammergeyer.The klipspringer stands about twenty inches in height is strongly and compactly built, with stouter limbs than the small antelopes of the plain. His horns are but four inches in length, rise vertically up from his head, and incline slightly forward. They are wrinkled at the base, and ringed in the middle. The hair that covers his body is long, wiry, and thickly placed upon the skin; and standing out upon end, gives the animal somewhat of a porcupine appearance. The colour is a nearly uniform yellowish olive, caused by the individual hairs being ash-coloured at the base, brown in the middle, and yellow at the tips. One of the most characteristic points about the klipspringer is the formation of its hoofs. These, instead of being long and pointed—as is the case with most antelopes—are cylindrical in form, and rest vertically upon their bases. They are jagged at the edges—so as to give the animal the power of adhering to the smoothest rock, without danger of slipping. Like every piece of Nature’s handiwork, they are perfectly adapted to the use for which they are intended.The klipspringer is not gregarious; but is seen in pairs, orfamilies, as they now appeared under the eyes of the young yägers.When Hans first noticed them, they were in different attitudes. The buck was standing upon the rock looking out over the plain below, but had not as yet perceived the eagle—as the thick leafy top of the sandal-wood interposed between him and it.The doe was lying down; while, kneeling beside her, and drawing nourishment from her teats, was the little kidling.Presently, the black shadow of the soaring bird passed over the greensward of the plain. It moved under the eyes of the buck, who, perceiving it, started suddenly, uttered a kind of hissing snort, and struck the rock with his hoof. This movement on his part brought the doe at once to her feet, as well as the little fawn; and all three stood in an attitude of observation, turning their eyes now upon the shadow below, and now glancing suspiciously above. After a moment they all commenced leaping about, though they still kept upon the rock. They saw the eagle, for it had now moved out some distance over the plain, so that the foliage of the tree was no longer interposed between it and them.It was just at this moment that the eagle had paused in its flight, and hung poised in the air. It had for the first time placed its eyes upon the klipspringers.In a moment the rapacious creature perceived the little fawn, cowering close behind the body of its mother; and without more ado, the bird directed its flight downward; and, when nearer, swooped straight at the group upon the rock.Sudden as was the dash of the bird, it was a fruitless effort, and it rose again without having made a victim.But when the spectators looked for the antelopes, not one of the three remained upon the table, where they had stood the moment before! As quick as the flight of the bird, all three had sprung off from the rock, and thus escaped from its dreaded claws.One would have supposed that the klipspringers would have hid themselves in crevices, as the conies had done. Not so. All three were seen—each standing conspicuously upon the top of a rock, and seeming to await the further action of the bird. With heads erect, and eyes turned upward, they stood, evidently expecting a renewal of the attack. The eagle, after hovering around and calculating its distance, swooped again.In this fresh attempt of the tyrant the little fawn alone was aimed at. Had it been the others, they would have sprung out of reach as before; and so, too, did the fawn repeatedly, bounding from rock to rock, with the elasticity of an india-rubber ball. But the wily bird continued the attack, turning each time in shorter circles, until the tiny limbs of the youthful antelope trembled with weariness. During all this time the old ones leaped about, bounding high in the air, and descending upon the sharpest edges of the rocks, as if they had alighted from a flight with wings. The object of their movements evidently was to draw the attack of the eagle upon themselves, and thus save their offspring.It was to no purpose, however. The cunning ravisher preferred making a victim of the kid, and paid no attention to the manoeuvres of the old ones. No doubt, there were eaglets on the neighbouring mountain, and the tenderest venison was wanted for their dinner.At all events, the eagle continued to assail the poor little fawn, until the latter had no longer strength left to leap from the rock upon which it had taken its last stand.Another dash made the eagle—a last and final swoop. Its talons closed like a cramp upon the vertebrae of the tiny quadruped, which the next moment was borne aloft into the air!A shrill sad bleating was heard from below—drowned for an instant by the discharge of several guns, whose reports echoed like thunder from the rocks; and then the winged robber, with his victim still clutched in his talons, was seen falling with fluttering wings to the earth!
In hopes of getting a shot at it on the wing, the boys crouched behind the boulders as it flew round, holding their guns in readiness. It passed them at too great a distance, and none of them fired.
They expected to see it fly off, and wing its way towards the neighbouring mountains—as it could only be a stray visitor to the hill, some hungry old eagle out upon a hunt.
It was about to do this; for it had already risen to a considerable elevation, and was heading away, when all at once it stopped suddenly in its flight, and balanced itself for some moments in the air, with neck bent downward, as if it had taken a fresh interest in some object that had just come under its eye below.
Had the rock-rabbits ventured forth again? No. It could not be they; for the eagle was hovering over a different quarter—quite the opposite side of the mountain. If rock-rabbits were in sight, they must be a different party. That was not improbable. There might be others upon the mountain. And yet the eagle would not hover abovethemin that way. The habit of this species is not to “swoop” from on high, but to watch from a perch upon some neighbouring rock, and dash upon the hyrax, when it comes out to feed or bask—precisely as the boys had seen it do.
So quick is the rock-rabbit in escaping to its retreat, that even an eagle, darting from a high elevation, would fail to clutch it. Had there been rock-rabbits below, they would have perceived the great black bird above, and would have secured themselves at once. It could not be they that were now occupying the attention of the vulture-eagle.
It wasnotthey. Hans, who with his double-barrel had hoped to obtain a shot at the eagle, and had crept ahead of his companions to the other side of the tower-rock, saw that it was not rock-rabbits that had caused the eagle to pause in its flight, but some creatures of a very different character.
About half-way down the slope grew a sandal-wood tree, one of the largest upon the mountain, with a full bushy top. Directly, under this tree was a mass of tabular rock, with a smooth top, quite horizontal, and several yards in length and breadth. Over this, and nearly covering its whole extent, the sandal-wood threw its protecting shadow; so that while the hot sun baked down upon the surrounding slope, the surface of the rock was kept shaded and cool. It was just such a spot as one would have chosen to have rested upon, commanding a far view of plains and picturesque mountains, and sweetly shaded from the burning noonday beams—just such a spot as the contemplative mind would have desired, and in which, freed from care, it could have delivered itself up to pleasant meditations.
One cannot help fancying that many of God’s wild creatures, in selecting their haunts and homes, have an eye to the picturesque. I can tell at a glance the cliff in which an eagle will make its eyrie, the glade that will be haunted by the stag or the fallow-deer, the tree under which he will repose, and oft times it has appeared to me that these favourite haunts are chosen by animals less for the security they afford, than for the picturesque beauty that surrounds them.
One could hardly have fancied that lone wild mountain—that smooth table-rock—that fragrant sandal-wood tree—without some living thing placed there by Nature to enjoy the scene, and give life to the picture—which would otherwise have been incomplete.
It was not incomplete. It was crowned and perfect. The shade of the sandal-wood fell not in vain. Upon the surface of the table-rock was a group of living creatures born to enjoy that wild and lovely scene—created, as it were, to give a finish to the picture.
There were three individuals in this group—three quadrupeds of a kind that had not been seen by the young yägers since the setting out of their expedition. Though these animals wore a similar coat of hair, and were of the same yellowish olive colour, all three were of different sizes. The largest was scarce so tall as a pointer-dog, while the smallest was still less than a tiny young kid. The second was not half-way between the two, but nearly equal in size to the largest. The principal difference between the latter two lay in the fact that the large one had a pair of horns upon its head, which the other wanted. There were no horns neither upon their tiny little companion. For all this difference, the three were evidently of the same genus and species, nay, nearer relations still—of the samefamily. They were a family ofklipspringers.
Hans knew at once it was the klipspringer, (Oreotragus saltatrix), and so did all the others—for this interesting antelope is still found within the settled districts of the Cape Colony—wherever high inaccessible cliffs and rock-covered mountains afford it a secure retreat from dog, hunter, and hyena.
Among the many interesting forms of the antelope tribe, that present themselves in South Africa, the klipspringer is not the least interesting. Though a very small creature, and of no great value to the hunter, it differs so much in its haunts and habits from others of the antelope race, as to make it an object of curiosity, even where it is common and often seen. Unlike the oryx, the gnoo, the hartebeest, the blesbok, the eland, and a host of others, the klipspringer never appears upon the plain. It is purely a mountain-dwelling animal, and the crag and cliff are its favourite haunts. There it is safe from the carnivorous beasts—the lion, the hyena, the wild-hounds, and the jackal—none of which can reach its secure retreat upon the ledges of the beetling precipice. Even the leopard cannot follow it there—notwithstanding his recurved claws that enable him to climb like a cat. On the steep cliffs, and along the dizzy heights, the klipspringer has no equal in South Africa; he can scale them as no other quadruped; he fears no four-footedbeastof prey. Three birds alone are his dangerous enemies—and these are the eagle of Verreaux, the Kaffir eagle, and the lammergeyer.
The klipspringer stands about twenty inches in height is strongly and compactly built, with stouter limbs than the small antelopes of the plain. His horns are but four inches in length, rise vertically up from his head, and incline slightly forward. They are wrinkled at the base, and ringed in the middle. The hair that covers his body is long, wiry, and thickly placed upon the skin; and standing out upon end, gives the animal somewhat of a porcupine appearance. The colour is a nearly uniform yellowish olive, caused by the individual hairs being ash-coloured at the base, brown in the middle, and yellow at the tips. One of the most characteristic points about the klipspringer is the formation of its hoofs. These, instead of being long and pointed—as is the case with most antelopes—are cylindrical in form, and rest vertically upon their bases. They are jagged at the edges—so as to give the animal the power of adhering to the smoothest rock, without danger of slipping. Like every piece of Nature’s handiwork, they are perfectly adapted to the use for which they are intended.
The klipspringer is not gregarious; but is seen in pairs, orfamilies, as they now appeared under the eyes of the young yägers.
When Hans first noticed them, they were in different attitudes. The buck was standing upon the rock looking out over the plain below, but had not as yet perceived the eagle—as the thick leafy top of the sandal-wood interposed between him and it.
The doe was lying down; while, kneeling beside her, and drawing nourishment from her teats, was the little kidling.
Presently, the black shadow of the soaring bird passed over the greensward of the plain. It moved under the eyes of the buck, who, perceiving it, started suddenly, uttered a kind of hissing snort, and struck the rock with his hoof. This movement on his part brought the doe at once to her feet, as well as the little fawn; and all three stood in an attitude of observation, turning their eyes now upon the shadow below, and now glancing suspiciously above. After a moment they all commenced leaping about, though they still kept upon the rock. They saw the eagle, for it had now moved out some distance over the plain, so that the foliage of the tree was no longer interposed between it and them.
It was just at this moment that the eagle had paused in its flight, and hung poised in the air. It had for the first time placed its eyes upon the klipspringers.
In a moment the rapacious creature perceived the little fawn, cowering close behind the body of its mother; and without more ado, the bird directed its flight downward; and, when nearer, swooped straight at the group upon the rock.
Sudden as was the dash of the bird, it was a fruitless effort, and it rose again without having made a victim.
But when the spectators looked for the antelopes, not one of the three remained upon the table, where they had stood the moment before! As quick as the flight of the bird, all three had sprung off from the rock, and thus escaped from its dreaded claws.
One would have supposed that the klipspringers would have hid themselves in crevices, as the conies had done. Not so. All three were seen—each standing conspicuously upon the top of a rock, and seeming to await the further action of the bird. With heads erect, and eyes turned upward, they stood, evidently expecting a renewal of the attack. The eagle, after hovering around and calculating its distance, swooped again.
In this fresh attempt of the tyrant the little fawn alone was aimed at. Had it been the others, they would have sprung out of reach as before; and so, too, did the fawn repeatedly, bounding from rock to rock, with the elasticity of an india-rubber ball. But the wily bird continued the attack, turning each time in shorter circles, until the tiny limbs of the youthful antelope trembled with weariness. During all this time the old ones leaped about, bounding high in the air, and descending upon the sharpest edges of the rocks, as if they had alighted from a flight with wings. The object of their movements evidently was to draw the attack of the eagle upon themselves, and thus save their offspring.
It was to no purpose, however. The cunning ravisher preferred making a victim of the kid, and paid no attention to the manoeuvres of the old ones. No doubt, there were eaglets on the neighbouring mountain, and the tenderest venison was wanted for their dinner.
At all events, the eagle continued to assail the poor little fawn, until the latter had no longer strength left to leap from the rock upon which it had taken its last stand.
Another dash made the eagle—a last and final swoop. Its talons closed like a cramp upon the vertebrae of the tiny quadruped, which the next moment was borne aloft into the air!
A shrill sad bleating was heard from below—drowned for an instant by the discharge of several guns, whose reports echoed like thunder from the rocks; and then the winged robber, with his victim still clutched in his talons, was seen falling with fluttering wings to the earth!
Chapter Thirty Seven.Hunting the Klipspringer.The eagle dropped not far from the summit; and the boys, running down to the spot, found it lying quite dead, with the little klipspringer—also dead of course—still fast in its claws. The talons sunk deeply into the flesh, embraced the spine, and even in death the fierce bird had not relaxed its hold!Some would have considered the death of the eagle a just punishment; but, then, what was its crime? It is true, it had killed, and would have carried away, the little fawn of an innocent antelope—one of the most harmless of creatures. But what else could it have done? Nature had taught it to sustain itself in this way. Perhaps it had a nest on the brow of some beetling precipice—for this vulture-eagle of South Africa is a dweller upon rocks, and not atree-eagle—perhaps in this nest it had a pair of downy little eaglets, each with an appetite like that of an ostrich—perhaps they were expecting that very kid, or some similar dish, for dinner; and would have been very hungry without it—might have died of hunger? What, then, could the parent bird do but provide them, though at the expense of other parents just as much attached to their offspring as an eagle could be? How can it be regarded as a crime? The eagle did not wantonly destroy the antelope, but to satisfy the cravings of hunger. It only obeyed one of the laws of Nature.Cruel laws theydoseem; yet, if they be crimes, Nature herself is answerable. Alas! we cannot comprehend, and, I fear, in this life never will comprehend, why we, the creatures of the earth, are born to prey upon one another. A puzzle to the humane heart is that “chain of destruction.”Wanton killing of animalsisa crime; and our hunters, at first sight, might be thought chargeable with this in havingwantonlyshot down the eagle. Such was not the case, however. They did not do so out of any feeling of wantonness. They had a proper object in shooting the bird. It was the representative of a rare and little-known species, and the possession of its skin forscientific purposeshad something to do with the fatal aim that brought it down—for it was from the double-barrel of the naturalist the shot was sent that destroyed it.By the act the klipspringers had been avenged, though there was little idea of giving them vengeance in the minds of the young hunters. Quite the contrary; for in five minutes after, the whole six—buck-dogs and all—were in full chase after these creatures, as ready to rob them of their lives as they had been to take away that of their winged enemy.Nor was it out of wantonness either, or the mere love of hunting, though that might have been the principal motive with one or two of the party. But there was a curiosity about these little antelopes, and a desire to examine them more closely, that urged the young yägers to attempt their destruction. They desired to possess their trophies.You may wonder why they should care about the horns of a klipspringer, since it is not one of the rare antelopes within the boundaries of the settlements! True, the animal itself is not rare; but it is a rare occurrence, when one falls before the bullet of the hunter—as the klipspringer is as shy and wary as the chamois itself—and, dwelling in the most inaccessible places, it is difficult game to capture. Hence, the killing of a klipspringer is regarded in the light of a feat, and its little horns are by no means an ordinary trophy.The young yägers, therefore, wanted the pair belonging to the buck that was now leaping over the rocks below.Some minutes were spent in deliberating as to what would be the best mode of getting possession of them.At the report of the guns both the klipspringers had gone farther down the mountains, and were now standing upon a large boulder near its base.Hendrik proposed that the party should dash right down after them—dogs and all—and force them out into the plain, where, it was well known, they could make but a poor run, and would be easily overtaken by the buck-dogs.This plan seemed feasible. The antelopes were very near the base of the mountain. The hunters coming on them from above could easily drive them into the plain; and then there would be a run between them and the dogs, of which a fine view would be obtained.Off started the whole party, directing their course straight down the mountain to the point where the klipspringers were seen. The dogs were set free, and sprang forward in advance.The hunters moved on as fast as the nature of the ground would permit them; and in ten minutes would have been near enough to the klipspringers to have fired, had the latter favoured them by remaining in their place. But they did not do so. Of course, they had a full view of their enemies as they advanced; and before the hunters had got half-way down, the nimble game set off round the bottom of the hill, flitting from rock to rock like a brace of birds.What seemed odd in their mode of progressing was, that instead of running along the open spaces between the fragments of rock, they chose the rocks themselves for their path, and of these also the most prominent ones; so that their flight was a succession of bounds, some of them of enormous length! Many of the boulders, on which they rested a moment, and from which they sprang again, were so narrow at the top, that the little creatures hardly obtained room for their feet; and, with their four hoofs touching each other, they would spring off as though moved, not by muscular power, but under the influence of some elastic force!At first the hunters believed their task to be an easy one. The mountain surface was of so limited an extent, they would soon surround the game, or force it out upon the plain. The first attempt to do so, however, had ended in a failure. The klipspringers had escaped without difficulty to the other side, and were now farther off than ever!The hunters called up the dogs, recrossed the summit, and once more set their eyes upon the game, perched as before upon prominent points.A second time the party advanced, spreading as they went down, and holding their guns in readiness; but long before they were within range, the klipspringers took to flight again; and, just as they had done before, passed around the base to the other side of the mountain. Of course, the dogs, scrambling clumsily among the rocks, were, no match for such game as they; and even had the klipspringers been near enough for the guns, the most accomplished riflemen could not have “sighted” them, so quick were their motions. The only chance of the yägers lay in their shot-guns, and to have hit them, even with these, would have been a feat equal to the bringing down a snipe or woodcock.Once more the boys attempted to drive them into the open plain; but with the same result as before. Although the hunters had spread themselves across the mountain, the nimble game dashed past them, and escaped to the other side.Groot Willem now proposed a new plan. That was for all to descend the mountain to its base, and there make a complete surround of it. Then each to march straight up, and, by hemming the game on all sides,force them to the summit.“In this way,” added Groot Willem, “we’ll at least have a crack at them; for if they try to get back through our line, they must pass near some of us.”Groot Willem’s suggestion was adopted. The yägers now descended to the base of the mountain; and, separating, spread around it at equal distances from one another. The buck-dogs were also distributed; one going with each hunter, except Klaas, who had no dog to accompany him. Since the affair with the blauw-bok, there had been only five in the pack.Thus placed, the boys recommenced the ascent. They proceeded with proper caution, keeping each other in view, and shouting from time to time words of instruction as to the position of the game. These were seen bounding before them, from rock to rock—now crossing the mountain to the opposite side, with the intention of escaping in that way—now zigzagging along the sides, or bounding upward toward the summit.When the hunters had advanced about half-way up, the klipspringers became frightened in earnest. They saw that they were encompassed on every side; and sprang to and fro like a pair of grasshoppers.At length they seemed determined to run the gauntlet through the circle of hunters, and made a bold dash in the direction of Hans. The naturalist, although not professing to be much of a hunter, was a capital shot; and, raising his double-barrel, he fired.The doe fell to the crack; and the buck, suddenly turning as on a pivot, once more bounded up the slope. The dogs had already gained a distance ahead of their masters, and now advanced upon the buck from all sides. There seemed no chance left him of avoiding their onset.He had mounted a boulder near the base of the tower-rock; and the five were rushing upon him with open jaws, and shining teeth, when, all at once, as if impelled by a spring, he shot upward to a narrow ledge of the vertical rock, far beyond their reach. The ledge was scarcely wide enough to have given footing to a weasel, and yet the klipspringer seemed to feel quite secure upon it. But he did not rest there. The shouts of the hunters, as they hurried up the mountain, impelled him farther; and springing to a still higher ledge, and to another still higher, he stood at length upon the pinnacle of the rock!A shout of surprise broke from the hunters as they witnessed this wonderful feat. And a singular spectacle it was. As already stated, the tower-rock ended in a point scarce four inches in diameter; and upon this stood the klipspringer, his hoofs pressed closely together, his neck drawn in, his body gathered into a ball, with the stiff wiry hair radiating on all sides outward, like the spines of a hedgehog—a curious object to look upon!Although the hunters were now within shot, so odd did the creature appear thus placed that not one of them thought of drawing trigger upon it. They knew that they had the buck in their power—the dogs were all around him—and at such a height, full thirty feet from the ground, it could not escape. All therefore held their fire, and ran forward to the bottom of the tower.They had made a sad mistake about the powers of that klipspringer. As they were congratulating themselves on having trapped the buck in so odd a manner, he was seen to shoot out into the air, and, with a whizzing noise like that made by some great bird, he passed close to their ears, and lit upon the boulder from which he had bounded up! Scarce an instant did he rest there, but sprang to another, and another, and in a few seconds was far down the side of the mountain!So sudden had been this movement on the part of the game, and so unexpected, that both dogs and hunters were taken by surprise, and not a shot was fired until the klipspringer was beyond reach! Just at that moment, as they stood watching his retreat, a puff of smoke was noticed far down the mountain—a gun cracked at the same instant—and the buck was seen to tumble headlong from a rock!With fresh surprise the hunters turned to one another. “Who?” exclaimed all simultaneously. Ha! there were only five of them. One was missing!“It’s Klaas!”It was Klaas beyond a doubt—Klaas who had killed the klipspringer.Klaas had given an illustration that the “race is not always to the swift.” He was rather a heavy boy, was Klaas; and feeling fatigued at so much climbing, had seated himself on a stone, and was taking a bit of a rest, when he observed the klipspringer, standing upon a rock right before his face. Having his light fowling-piece loaded with buckshot, he had taken aim, and dropped the buck from his perch.Jan was not a little jealous, and insinuated that it was a bit of “luck” not very well deserved; but whether it was luck or not, Klaas had certainly killed the klipspringer, and was not a little elated at his performance.Having collected the game, the young yägers proceeded to where they had left their horses; and, mounting, galloped off after the wagons that were moving slowly across the distant plain.
The eagle dropped not far from the summit; and the boys, running down to the spot, found it lying quite dead, with the little klipspringer—also dead of course—still fast in its claws. The talons sunk deeply into the flesh, embraced the spine, and even in death the fierce bird had not relaxed its hold!
Some would have considered the death of the eagle a just punishment; but, then, what was its crime? It is true, it had killed, and would have carried away, the little fawn of an innocent antelope—one of the most harmless of creatures. But what else could it have done? Nature had taught it to sustain itself in this way. Perhaps it had a nest on the brow of some beetling precipice—for this vulture-eagle of South Africa is a dweller upon rocks, and not atree-eagle—perhaps in this nest it had a pair of downy little eaglets, each with an appetite like that of an ostrich—perhaps they were expecting that very kid, or some similar dish, for dinner; and would have been very hungry without it—might have died of hunger? What, then, could the parent bird do but provide them, though at the expense of other parents just as much attached to their offspring as an eagle could be? How can it be regarded as a crime? The eagle did not wantonly destroy the antelope, but to satisfy the cravings of hunger. It only obeyed one of the laws of Nature.
Cruel laws theydoseem; yet, if they be crimes, Nature herself is answerable. Alas! we cannot comprehend, and, I fear, in this life never will comprehend, why we, the creatures of the earth, are born to prey upon one another. A puzzle to the humane heart is that “chain of destruction.”
Wanton killing of animalsisa crime; and our hunters, at first sight, might be thought chargeable with this in havingwantonlyshot down the eagle. Such was not the case, however. They did not do so out of any feeling of wantonness. They had a proper object in shooting the bird. It was the representative of a rare and little-known species, and the possession of its skin forscientific purposeshad something to do with the fatal aim that brought it down—for it was from the double-barrel of the naturalist the shot was sent that destroyed it.
By the act the klipspringers had been avenged, though there was little idea of giving them vengeance in the minds of the young hunters. Quite the contrary; for in five minutes after, the whole six—buck-dogs and all—were in full chase after these creatures, as ready to rob them of their lives as they had been to take away that of their winged enemy.
Nor was it out of wantonness either, or the mere love of hunting, though that might have been the principal motive with one or two of the party. But there was a curiosity about these little antelopes, and a desire to examine them more closely, that urged the young yägers to attempt their destruction. They desired to possess their trophies.
You may wonder why they should care about the horns of a klipspringer, since it is not one of the rare antelopes within the boundaries of the settlements! True, the animal itself is not rare; but it is a rare occurrence, when one falls before the bullet of the hunter—as the klipspringer is as shy and wary as the chamois itself—and, dwelling in the most inaccessible places, it is difficult game to capture. Hence, the killing of a klipspringer is regarded in the light of a feat, and its little horns are by no means an ordinary trophy.
The young yägers, therefore, wanted the pair belonging to the buck that was now leaping over the rocks below.
Some minutes were spent in deliberating as to what would be the best mode of getting possession of them.
At the report of the guns both the klipspringers had gone farther down the mountains, and were now standing upon a large boulder near its base.
Hendrik proposed that the party should dash right down after them—dogs and all—and force them out into the plain, where, it was well known, they could make but a poor run, and would be easily overtaken by the buck-dogs.
This plan seemed feasible. The antelopes were very near the base of the mountain. The hunters coming on them from above could easily drive them into the plain; and then there would be a run between them and the dogs, of which a fine view would be obtained.
Off started the whole party, directing their course straight down the mountain to the point where the klipspringers were seen. The dogs were set free, and sprang forward in advance.
The hunters moved on as fast as the nature of the ground would permit them; and in ten minutes would have been near enough to the klipspringers to have fired, had the latter favoured them by remaining in their place. But they did not do so. Of course, they had a full view of their enemies as they advanced; and before the hunters had got half-way down, the nimble game set off round the bottom of the hill, flitting from rock to rock like a brace of birds.
What seemed odd in their mode of progressing was, that instead of running along the open spaces between the fragments of rock, they chose the rocks themselves for their path, and of these also the most prominent ones; so that their flight was a succession of bounds, some of them of enormous length! Many of the boulders, on which they rested a moment, and from which they sprang again, were so narrow at the top, that the little creatures hardly obtained room for their feet; and, with their four hoofs touching each other, they would spring off as though moved, not by muscular power, but under the influence of some elastic force!
At first the hunters believed their task to be an easy one. The mountain surface was of so limited an extent, they would soon surround the game, or force it out upon the plain. The first attempt to do so, however, had ended in a failure. The klipspringers had escaped without difficulty to the other side, and were now farther off than ever!
The hunters called up the dogs, recrossed the summit, and once more set their eyes upon the game, perched as before upon prominent points.
A second time the party advanced, spreading as they went down, and holding their guns in readiness; but long before they were within range, the klipspringers took to flight again; and, just as they had done before, passed around the base to the other side of the mountain. Of course, the dogs, scrambling clumsily among the rocks, were, no match for such game as they; and even had the klipspringers been near enough for the guns, the most accomplished riflemen could not have “sighted” them, so quick were their motions. The only chance of the yägers lay in their shot-guns, and to have hit them, even with these, would have been a feat equal to the bringing down a snipe or woodcock.
Once more the boys attempted to drive them into the open plain; but with the same result as before. Although the hunters had spread themselves across the mountain, the nimble game dashed past them, and escaped to the other side.
Groot Willem now proposed a new plan. That was for all to descend the mountain to its base, and there make a complete surround of it. Then each to march straight up, and, by hemming the game on all sides,force them to the summit.
“In this way,” added Groot Willem, “we’ll at least have a crack at them; for if they try to get back through our line, they must pass near some of us.”
Groot Willem’s suggestion was adopted. The yägers now descended to the base of the mountain; and, separating, spread around it at equal distances from one another. The buck-dogs were also distributed; one going with each hunter, except Klaas, who had no dog to accompany him. Since the affair with the blauw-bok, there had been only five in the pack.
Thus placed, the boys recommenced the ascent. They proceeded with proper caution, keeping each other in view, and shouting from time to time words of instruction as to the position of the game. These were seen bounding before them, from rock to rock—now crossing the mountain to the opposite side, with the intention of escaping in that way—now zigzagging along the sides, or bounding upward toward the summit.
When the hunters had advanced about half-way up, the klipspringers became frightened in earnest. They saw that they were encompassed on every side; and sprang to and fro like a pair of grasshoppers.
At length they seemed determined to run the gauntlet through the circle of hunters, and made a bold dash in the direction of Hans. The naturalist, although not professing to be much of a hunter, was a capital shot; and, raising his double-barrel, he fired.
The doe fell to the crack; and the buck, suddenly turning as on a pivot, once more bounded up the slope. The dogs had already gained a distance ahead of their masters, and now advanced upon the buck from all sides. There seemed no chance left him of avoiding their onset.
He had mounted a boulder near the base of the tower-rock; and the five were rushing upon him with open jaws, and shining teeth, when, all at once, as if impelled by a spring, he shot upward to a narrow ledge of the vertical rock, far beyond their reach. The ledge was scarcely wide enough to have given footing to a weasel, and yet the klipspringer seemed to feel quite secure upon it. But he did not rest there. The shouts of the hunters, as they hurried up the mountain, impelled him farther; and springing to a still higher ledge, and to another still higher, he stood at length upon the pinnacle of the rock!
A shout of surprise broke from the hunters as they witnessed this wonderful feat. And a singular spectacle it was. As already stated, the tower-rock ended in a point scarce four inches in diameter; and upon this stood the klipspringer, his hoofs pressed closely together, his neck drawn in, his body gathered into a ball, with the stiff wiry hair radiating on all sides outward, like the spines of a hedgehog—a curious object to look upon!
Although the hunters were now within shot, so odd did the creature appear thus placed that not one of them thought of drawing trigger upon it. They knew that they had the buck in their power—the dogs were all around him—and at such a height, full thirty feet from the ground, it could not escape. All therefore held their fire, and ran forward to the bottom of the tower.
They had made a sad mistake about the powers of that klipspringer. As they were congratulating themselves on having trapped the buck in so odd a manner, he was seen to shoot out into the air, and, with a whizzing noise like that made by some great bird, he passed close to their ears, and lit upon the boulder from which he had bounded up! Scarce an instant did he rest there, but sprang to another, and another, and in a few seconds was far down the side of the mountain!
So sudden had been this movement on the part of the game, and so unexpected, that both dogs and hunters were taken by surprise, and not a shot was fired until the klipspringer was beyond reach! Just at that moment, as they stood watching his retreat, a puff of smoke was noticed far down the mountain—a gun cracked at the same instant—and the buck was seen to tumble headlong from a rock!
With fresh surprise the hunters turned to one another. “Who?” exclaimed all simultaneously. Ha! there were only five of them. One was missing!
“It’s Klaas!”
It was Klaas beyond a doubt—Klaas who had killed the klipspringer.
Klaas had given an illustration that the “race is not always to the swift.” He was rather a heavy boy, was Klaas; and feeling fatigued at so much climbing, had seated himself on a stone, and was taking a bit of a rest, when he observed the klipspringer, standing upon a rock right before his face. Having his light fowling-piece loaded with buckshot, he had taken aim, and dropped the buck from his perch.
Jan was not a little jealous, and insinuated that it was a bit of “luck” not very well deserved; but whether it was luck or not, Klaas had certainly killed the klipspringer, and was not a little elated at his performance.
Having collected the game, the young yägers proceeded to where they had left their horses; and, mounting, galloped off after the wagons that were moving slowly across the distant plain.
Chapter Thirty Eight.Bold Birds.On the third day after entering the plains of the “zuur-veldt,” the yägers treked to the banks of a large river, and followed its course up-stream. The scenery was altogether new and of a different character to that of the plains. The river was fringed with reeds and willows, and beyond these stretched a wide bottom land of meadow-like character, studded with groves and copses of green trees whose foliage was grateful to the eye after the journey over the dry plains. Here the deceitful mirage no longer tantalised them with prospects of verdant groves and smooth limpid lakes. Both existed in reality; and a succession of lovely landscapes met the eyes of the travellers as they advanced.The grass upon the banks of this river was excellent, and in order that their cattle should have the opportunity of a good feed, the party formed camp at an early hour. They outspanned in a little meadow, directly by the edge of the water, and made a fire out of the stems of the willows that grew near.Jan and Klaas noticed a large flock of birds hovering above the water, and swooping about, something in the same manner as swallows on a summer evening over the surface of an English lake.They were birds of a moderate size, scarcely so big as a common pigeon—nor was there any thing in their colour to make them attractive. They were rather a dull-coloured set of birds for Africa, being reddish-brown, with a mixture of white and grey; but had they been near enough for the boys to have observed their feet and legs, these with the “cire” around their eyes, would have appeared of a beautiful orange-yellow colour.There was one peculiarity about these birds, which could be observed at a great distance, and that was their “forked” tails. In this respect they might also be said to resemble swallows, but the forking was far less acute than in the tails of the latter. There was enough of it to give the birds a character; and that, with their general form and the colour of their plumage, made it easy enough to tell to what genus the birds belonged. They were birds of the genusFalco, (hawks,) belonging to that section of it distinguished asMilvus, (the kites.)Of the kites there are several species, but the particular one to which these before the eyes of Klaas and Jan belonged, was the “parasite kite,” (Milvus ater), an inhabitant of all parts of the continent of Africa, and a bird somewhat smaller than the royal kite of Europe.Both these bird-boys knew that the birds were hawks of some kind, but they could not tell what sort. When Hans told them that they were “kites,” they both became doubly interested; and, guns in hand, stood near the water’s edge watching the manoeuvres of the long-winged fork-tailed creatures.To a superficial observer it might have appeared that these kites were merely playing themselves; now poised and hovering in the air, now floating softly along, and at intervals shooting down until they “dipped” themselves in the water of the stream. Any one, however, who had closely watched them for a time would soon have perceived, that they were not going through these manoeuvres for simple amusement. Each time that one of them made a plunge into the water, it might be observed that in rising again, it carried a shining object in its talons, which object was neither more nor less than a tiny little fish. Fishing, then, was what the “parasites” were after; and not for amusement, as anglers do, but following it as a regular calling—in fact, following it for food.Not that fish forms the only food of this species of lute. No; it will eat almost any thing,—little quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, and even carrion, upon a pinch. It is, however, very fond of fish; and, when it chances to reside in a country of waters, where fish are plenteous and easily procured, it follows the calling of a fisher pretty regularly.Klaas and Jan stood for some time expecting to get a shot; but as none of the birds came near enough, they at length gave up all hope, and laid aside their guns.Shortly after, dinner was ready, and all the boys sat down upon the wagon-chests, and commenced eating. Their dinner that day consisted of a very nice dish—that is, the flesh of the great South African bustard (Otis tarda) or wild peacock, (wilde pauw,) as they themselves termed the bird. Groot Willem had that morning shot this fine game, at very long range, with his “roer;” and but for the far “carry” of his gun they would not have procured the bird—for the wild peacock is one of the shyest kinds of game-birds, and scarcely ever rests within shooting distance of any cover by which it may be approached. Large as it is, it is esteemed the most delicate eating of South African birds, and almost equal to the wild turkey of America.Now the young yägers had roasted this preciousmorceau, had carved it, and each was sitting with a piece in hand—one with a wing, another having the “drumstick,” a third the “merrythought,” a fourth the “pope’s nose,” and so on. Of course they were in a high state of enjoyment over such “titbits.”While engaged in this pleasant way, they were astonished to see the whole flock of kites come suddenly swooping over the camp. Klaas and Jan were the more astonished, since they had been for some half-hour vainly endeavouring to get within shot of these very birds.Nowthere would have been no difficulty about that, for the parasites not only came within shooting distance, but, actually and literally, flewin the very facesof the boys! Yes; they would swoop right up until within a few feet of the diners, then poise themselves upon their wings, spread out their tails, turn over on their backs, and execute sundry other eccentric manoeuvres that put the six yägers into fits of laughter. Of course Swartboy joined in the chorus, and even the grave Kaffir grinned at the ludicrous spectacle.But it did not end here. After a while the birds grew bolder and bolder; at each swoop they came nearer; until at length several of them actually snatched pieces of the bustard’s flesh out of the very hands of those that were eating it! Verily did they illustrate the old adage of “many a slip between cup and lip.”Even the dogs were made victims of these bold little robbers, who swooped forward to their very muzzles, and snatched at the bones they were crunching.This curious scene continued for some time. It would have ended sooner, had the business been in the hands of Klaas and Jan. Both these boys, at the first approach of the birds, had started up to get their guns, but they were withheld from using them by the others, and especially by Hans—who was desirous of observing these curious little hawks with the eye of a naturalist.After a while the bird-boys were allowed to “blaze away;” and, what is still more singular, their repeated shots did not completely frighten off the parasites, though several were killed! Even some that must have been wounded—since the feathers had been knocked out of them—returned again and again to hover above the camp, with eyes fixed eagerly upon the scraps of meat that had been left lying upon the chests!A little incident was yet to occur of a still more ludicrous character.Hans had that day shot a pigeon of very beautiful plumage, which is peculiar to the interior of South Africa, and whose wings and body are of a deep green colour. This species is somewhat rare, and Hans was desirous of preserving the skin and having it mounted. After dinner, therefore, he had skinned it; and having thrown its flesh to the dogs, he was still at work upon the skin, taking out the brains.Klaas and Jan, satiated with sport, had desisted, and laid aside their guns—the consequence of which was that the parasites had returned in great numbers, and now exhibited as much effrontery as ever.All at once, one of them seeing Hans engaged with the pigeon, and thinking no doubt that the body of the bird was still in its skin, made a sudden dash, drove its claw through the feathery mass, and carried off the skin in triumph! Hans, whose eyes had been closely bent upon his work, saw nothing of the approach of the little winged robber; and for some moments believed that one of the boys, out of a “lark,” had snatched the pigeon from his fingers. It was not until he looked around, and then up into the air, that he was aware of the real culprit; and although all rushed to their guns, the pigeon-skin could not be recovered—as the kite, on seizing it, rose high into the air, and then carried it off to the other side of the river!As not a bit of flesh remained in the skin, and as Hans had succeeded in extracting even the brains, no doubt the parasite soon discovered that hispigeonwas no better than a “decoy!”
On the third day after entering the plains of the “zuur-veldt,” the yägers treked to the banks of a large river, and followed its course up-stream. The scenery was altogether new and of a different character to that of the plains. The river was fringed with reeds and willows, and beyond these stretched a wide bottom land of meadow-like character, studded with groves and copses of green trees whose foliage was grateful to the eye after the journey over the dry plains. Here the deceitful mirage no longer tantalised them with prospects of verdant groves and smooth limpid lakes. Both existed in reality; and a succession of lovely landscapes met the eyes of the travellers as they advanced.
The grass upon the banks of this river was excellent, and in order that their cattle should have the opportunity of a good feed, the party formed camp at an early hour. They outspanned in a little meadow, directly by the edge of the water, and made a fire out of the stems of the willows that grew near.
Jan and Klaas noticed a large flock of birds hovering above the water, and swooping about, something in the same manner as swallows on a summer evening over the surface of an English lake.
They were birds of a moderate size, scarcely so big as a common pigeon—nor was there any thing in their colour to make them attractive. They were rather a dull-coloured set of birds for Africa, being reddish-brown, with a mixture of white and grey; but had they been near enough for the boys to have observed their feet and legs, these with the “cire” around their eyes, would have appeared of a beautiful orange-yellow colour.
There was one peculiarity about these birds, which could be observed at a great distance, and that was their “forked” tails. In this respect they might also be said to resemble swallows, but the forking was far less acute than in the tails of the latter. There was enough of it to give the birds a character; and that, with their general form and the colour of their plumage, made it easy enough to tell to what genus the birds belonged. They were birds of the genusFalco, (hawks,) belonging to that section of it distinguished asMilvus, (the kites.)
Of the kites there are several species, but the particular one to which these before the eyes of Klaas and Jan belonged, was the “parasite kite,” (Milvus ater), an inhabitant of all parts of the continent of Africa, and a bird somewhat smaller than the royal kite of Europe.
Both these bird-boys knew that the birds were hawks of some kind, but they could not tell what sort. When Hans told them that they were “kites,” they both became doubly interested; and, guns in hand, stood near the water’s edge watching the manoeuvres of the long-winged fork-tailed creatures.
To a superficial observer it might have appeared that these kites were merely playing themselves; now poised and hovering in the air, now floating softly along, and at intervals shooting down until they “dipped” themselves in the water of the stream. Any one, however, who had closely watched them for a time would soon have perceived, that they were not going through these manoeuvres for simple amusement. Each time that one of them made a plunge into the water, it might be observed that in rising again, it carried a shining object in its talons, which object was neither more nor less than a tiny little fish. Fishing, then, was what the “parasites” were after; and not for amusement, as anglers do, but following it as a regular calling—in fact, following it for food.
Not that fish forms the only food of this species of lute. No; it will eat almost any thing,—little quadrupeds, birds, reptiles, and even carrion, upon a pinch. It is, however, very fond of fish; and, when it chances to reside in a country of waters, where fish are plenteous and easily procured, it follows the calling of a fisher pretty regularly.
Klaas and Jan stood for some time expecting to get a shot; but as none of the birds came near enough, they at length gave up all hope, and laid aside their guns.
Shortly after, dinner was ready, and all the boys sat down upon the wagon-chests, and commenced eating. Their dinner that day consisted of a very nice dish—that is, the flesh of the great South African bustard (Otis tarda) or wild peacock, (wilde pauw,) as they themselves termed the bird. Groot Willem had that morning shot this fine game, at very long range, with his “roer;” and but for the far “carry” of his gun they would not have procured the bird—for the wild peacock is one of the shyest kinds of game-birds, and scarcely ever rests within shooting distance of any cover by which it may be approached. Large as it is, it is esteemed the most delicate eating of South African birds, and almost equal to the wild turkey of America.
Now the young yägers had roasted this preciousmorceau, had carved it, and each was sitting with a piece in hand—one with a wing, another having the “drumstick,” a third the “merrythought,” a fourth the “pope’s nose,” and so on. Of course they were in a high state of enjoyment over such “titbits.”
While engaged in this pleasant way, they were astonished to see the whole flock of kites come suddenly swooping over the camp. Klaas and Jan were the more astonished, since they had been for some half-hour vainly endeavouring to get within shot of these very birds.Nowthere would have been no difficulty about that, for the parasites not only came within shooting distance, but, actually and literally, flewin the very facesof the boys! Yes; they would swoop right up until within a few feet of the diners, then poise themselves upon their wings, spread out their tails, turn over on their backs, and execute sundry other eccentric manoeuvres that put the six yägers into fits of laughter. Of course Swartboy joined in the chorus, and even the grave Kaffir grinned at the ludicrous spectacle.
But it did not end here. After a while the birds grew bolder and bolder; at each swoop they came nearer; until at length several of them actually snatched pieces of the bustard’s flesh out of the very hands of those that were eating it! Verily did they illustrate the old adage of “many a slip between cup and lip.”
Even the dogs were made victims of these bold little robbers, who swooped forward to their very muzzles, and snatched at the bones they were crunching.
This curious scene continued for some time. It would have ended sooner, had the business been in the hands of Klaas and Jan. Both these boys, at the first approach of the birds, had started up to get their guns, but they were withheld from using them by the others, and especially by Hans—who was desirous of observing these curious little hawks with the eye of a naturalist.
After a while the bird-boys were allowed to “blaze away;” and, what is still more singular, their repeated shots did not completely frighten off the parasites, though several were killed! Even some that must have been wounded—since the feathers had been knocked out of them—returned again and again to hover above the camp, with eyes fixed eagerly upon the scraps of meat that had been left lying upon the chests!
A little incident was yet to occur of a still more ludicrous character.
Hans had that day shot a pigeon of very beautiful plumage, which is peculiar to the interior of South Africa, and whose wings and body are of a deep green colour. This species is somewhat rare, and Hans was desirous of preserving the skin and having it mounted. After dinner, therefore, he had skinned it; and having thrown its flesh to the dogs, he was still at work upon the skin, taking out the brains.
Klaas and Jan, satiated with sport, had desisted, and laid aside their guns—the consequence of which was that the parasites had returned in great numbers, and now exhibited as much effrontery as ever.
All at once, one of them seeing Hans engaged with the pigeon, and thinking no doubt that the body of the bird was still in its skin, made a sudden dash, drove its claw through the feathery mass, and carried off the skin in triumph! Hans, whose eyes had been closely bent upon his work, saw nothing of the approach of the little winged robber; and for some moments believed that one of the boys, out of a “lark,” had snatched the pigeon from his fingers. It was not until he looked around, and then up into the air, that he was aware of the real culprit; and although all rushed to their guns, the pigeon-skin could not be recovered—as the kite, on seizing it, rose high into the air, and then carried it off to the other side of the river!
As not a bit of flesh remained in the skin, and as Hans had succeeded in extracting even the brains, no doubt the parasite soon discovered that hispigeonwas no better than a “decoy!”
Chapter Thirty Nine.The Waterbuck.The bank upon which the yägers had encamped was about five or six feet above the surface of the water, as it now stood. The bank on the opposite side also rose above the water level; but on both sides there was a break or declivity that sloped down into the channel. These breaks corresponded with each other. They were not natural gorges, but had evidently been made by heavy animals, such as rhinoceroses and others, that were in the habit of coming either to drink or ford the river at this point. The tracks of many kinds of animals could be distinguished leading down to the water or up into the meadow—so that the place was evidently a “drift,” or crossing-place for the wild beasts of the country around.Perhaps at night many would cross here, and Hendrik and Groot Willem had resolved to watch that night and have a little moonlight sport. A moon—and a very fine moon—was expected; for the queen of the heavens was nearly in the full at the time, and the sky all that day had been without a cloud.But they were destined to enjoy a little sport before the moon arose—even before the sun had gone down.While engaged around the wagons, their attention was attracted by a movement among the reeds on the opposite side of the river. There was also an open space on that side corresponding to the meadow in which they were encamped. Around the opening grew a thick brake of tall reeds, interspersed with willows and other low trees. It was among these reeds that the movement was observed.Presently a large animal came out of the covert, and stepped boldly forward into the open ground, where the short sward enabled them to see it from horn to hoof—for it was a creature with hoofs and horns—without doubt an antelope.It was a species, however, which none of the party had ever seen before—an antelope of majestic form and elegant proportions.It stood nearly five feet in height by full nine in length, and its general colour was a greyish sepia brown. Its face, however, was of a deeper brown around the bases of the horns and over the frontlet tinged with rufous. The lips and muzzle were white; a white patch marked the throat; a white streak was before each of the eyes; and a curious oval band of white encircled the tail. The hair over all the body was harsh, more resembling split whalebone than hair; but that which covered the neck was longer than the rest, and stood out all around like a mane on end. The horns were nearly three feet in length, and curved first upwards and then slightly inwards. They were closely ringed to within six inches of their tips, and of a whitish green colour. The tail of the animal was about eighteen inches in length with a tuft at its tip.The shape and set of the horns, the rigid hair that grew all around the throat and neck, and the elegant upright bearing of this antelope, enabled the naturalist Hans to tell his companions to what species it belonged. It was the famed “waterbuck,” (Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus).I have said “famed” antelope, because the waterbuck is in reality one of the finest and most famous animals of the whole tribe.Its name would seem to imply that it was a dweller in the water. Such, however, is not the case. It is called waterbuck because it is never found far from the banks of a river or other water, in which it delights to plunge, and bathe itself during the hot sunshiny hours of the day. Of course it is an excellent swimmer, and, indeed, such confidence has it in its powers of swimming, that when hunted or pursued by whatever enemy, it makes directly for the river and plunges in, no matter what depth may be the water. It is the habit of many species of deer to make for water when hunted, but with them the object is to throw the hounds off the scent, and having once crossed a river, they continue on through the woods. Now the waterbuck does not leave the river for any great distance. It either swims downstream, or, having gone out on the opposite bank, returns to it, after making a short détour through the woods. It seems to regard the water as its haven of safety, and when overtaken usually stands at bay in the very middle of the stream.It loves to dwell along rivers where there are marshy banks covered with tall sedge and reeds; and at certain seasons of the year, when these are partially inundated, the waterbuck is rarely seen—as it then makes its haunt in the very heart of morasses which are impenetrable to the hunter. Its long spreading hoofs enable it to pass with safety over marshy grounds, where other species of antelopes would be “mired” and destroyed.The waterbuck has been classed by naturalists with antelopes of theaigocerine, or goat-horned group; but it differs greatly, both in horns and habits, from any of these, and deserves to be ranked as an antelopesui generis. If it were established as a separate genus, it would not stand alone, since another “waterbuck”—evidently a second species—has been discovered by late explorers a little farther to the north, upon the shores of the Lake Ngami. The latter is termed by the natives the “leche,” and in the shape of its horns, and most of its habits, it bears a decided generic resemblance to theAigocerus ellipsiprymnus.Still a third species of waterbuck has turned up during the recent explorations to the afore-mentioned lake; but this, though in habit very similar to the others, differs widely in regard to its physical characteristics. Its horns are of the spiral form, greatly resembling those of the koodoo, (Strepsiceros koodoo), and naturalists are disposed to class it in the genusTragelaphus. Its name among the natives is “nakong.”The reason why none of our young hunters werepersonallyacquainted with the waterbuck was, that none of them had ever seen it before; and the reason why none of them had seen it was, because it is not found in any part of the country through which they had hitherto travelled. It is altogether a tropical or sub-tropical species, loves a warm climate, and does not range so far south as the Cape settlements. It is possible that there may be other species by the rivers that run through the unknown interior of Africa; for between that southern territory, which has been yet explored, and the Great Säara, there lie many strange countries, and many strange creatures, of which the geographer and the naturalist yet know nothing.So, my boy reader, if you should be desirous at any period of your life to achieve the reputation of a Bruce, a Park, a Denham, a Clapperton, or a Lander, you need not fear the want of an opportunity. There is still enough of “unexplored Africa” to employ adventurous spirits for perhaps a century to come. At all events the ardent naturalist will find plenty of new ground up to the new year’s day of 2000! That I can safely guarantee.
The bank upon which the yägers had encamped was about five or six feet above the surface of the water, as it now stood. The bank on the opposite side also rose above the water level; but on both sides there was a break or declivity that sloped down into the channel. These breaks corresponded with each other. They were not natural gorges, but had evidently been made by heavy animals, such as rhinoceroses and others, that were in the habit of coming either to drink or ford the river at this point. The tracks of many kinds of animals could be distinguished leading down to the water or up into the meadow—so that the place was evidently a “drift,” or crossing-place for the wild beasts of the country around.
Perhaps at night many would cross here, and Hendrik and Groot Willem had resolved to watch that night and have a little moonlight sport. A moon—and a very fine moon—was expected; for the queen of the heavens was nearly in the full at the time, and the sky all that day had been without a cloud.
But they were destined to enjoy a little sport before the moon arose—even before the sun had gone down.
While engaged around the wagons, their attention was attracted by a movement among the reeds on the opposite side of the river. There was also an open space on that side corresponding to the meadow in which they were encamped. Around the opening grew a thick brake of tall reeds, interspersed with willows and other low trees. It was among these reeds that the movement was observed.
Presently a large animal came out of the covert, and stepped boldly forward into the open ground, where the short sward enabled them to see it from horn to hoof—for it was a creature with hoofs and horns—without doubt an antelope.
It was a species, however, which none of the party had ever seen before—an antelope of majestic form and elegant proportions.
It stood nearly five feet in height by full nine in length, and its general colour was a greyish sepia brown. Its face, however, was of a deeper brown around the bases of the horns and over the frontlet tinged with rufous. The lips and muzzle were white; a white patch marked the throat; a white streak was before each of the eyes; and a curious oval band of white encircled the tail. The hair over all the body was harsh, more resembling split whalebone than hair; but that which covered the neck was longer than the rest, and stood out all around like a mane on end. The horns were nearly three feet in length, and curved first upwards and then slightly inwards. They were closely ringed to within six inches of their tips, and of a whitish green colour. The tail of the animal was about eighteen inches in length with a tuft at its tip.
The shape and set of the horns, the rigid hair that grew all around the throat and neck, and the elegant upright bearing of this antelope, enabled the naturalist Hans to tell his companions to what species it belonged. It was the famed “waterbuck,” (Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus).
I have said “famed” antelope, because the waterbuck is in reality one of the finest and most famous animals of the whole tribe.
Its name would seem to imply that it was a dweller in the water. Such, however, is not the case. It is called waterbuck because it is never found far from the banks of a river or other water, in which it delights to plunge, and bathe itself during the hot sunshiny hours of the day. Of course it is an excellent swimmer, and, indeed, such confidence has it in its powers of swimming, that when hunted or pursued by whatever enemy, it makes directly for the river and plunges in, no matter what depth may be the water. It is the habit of many species of deer to make for water when hunted, but with them the object is to throw the hounds off the scent, and having once crossed a river, they continue on through the woods. Now the waterbuck does not leave the river for any great distance. It either swims downstream, or, having gone out on the opposite bank, returns to it, after making a short détour through the woods. It seems to regard the water as its haven of safety, and when overtaken usually stands at bay in the very middle of the stream.
It loves to dwell along rivers where there are marshy banks covered with tall sedge and reeds; and at certain seasons of the year, when these are partially inundated, the waterbuck is rarely seen—as it then makes its haunt in the very heart of morasses which are impenetrable to the hunter. Its long spreading hoofs enable it to pass with safety over marshy grounds, where other species of antelopes would be “mired” and destroyed.
The waterbuck has been classed by naturalists with antelopes of theaigocerine, or goat-horned group; but it differs greatly, both in horns and habits, from any of these, and deserves to be ranked as an antelopesui generis. If it were established as a separate genus, it would not stand alone, since another “waterbuck”—evidently a second species—has been discovered by late explorers a little farther to the north, upon the shores of the Lake Ngami. The latter is termed by the natives the “leche,” and in the shape of its horns, and most of its habits, it bears a decided generic resemblance to theAigocerus ellipsiprymnus.
Still a third species of waterbuck has turned up during the recent explorations to the afore-mentioned lake; but this, though in habit very similar to the others, differs widely in regard to its physical characteristics. Its horns are of the spiral form, greatly resembling those of the koodoo, (Strepsiceros koodoo), and naturalists are disposed to class it in the genusTragelaphus. Its name among the natives is “nakong.”
The reason why none of our young hunters werepersonallyacquainted with the waterbuck was, that none of them had ever seen it before; and the reason why none of them had seen it was, because it is not found in any part of the country through which they had hitherto travelled. It is altogether a tropical or sub-tropical species, loves a warm climate, and does not range so far south as the Cape settlements. It is possible that there may be other species by the rivers that run through the unknown interior of Africa; for between that southern territory, which has been yet explored, and the Great Säara, there lie many strange countries, and many strange creatures, of which the geographer and the naturalist yet know nothing.
So, my boy reader, if you should be desirous at any period of your life to achieve the reputation of a Bruce, a Park, a Denham, a Clapperton, or a Lander, you need not fear the want of an opportunity. There is still enough of “unexplored Africa” to employ adventurous spirits for perhaps a century to come. At all events the ardent naturalist will find plenty of new ground up to the new year’s day of 2000! That I can safely guarantee.
Chapter Forty.The Ravenous Reptile.All eyes were fixed upon the beautiful animal as it approached the river. With light majestic step it advanced to the bank, and without pausing walked down the slope. It had no fear of the water, and stepped into it without hesitation.The boys were in hopes that it intended to cross the river. On the opposite bank it was too distant for the a carry of their guns—even the elephant roer could not have sent a bullet to that side with any chance of hitting. Should the antelope cross, however, the case would be different. It might then come within range of their pieces; and, to make sure, Hendrik and Groot Willem had stolen under the cover of the reeds, and advanced nearer the crossing-place.They were doomed to disappointment, however. The waterbuck had no intention of crossing. It had come to drink; and having waded in knee-deep, it stopped, and dipped its muzzle into the water for that purpose.With disappointed looks the boys remained gazing upon it as it drank.Now it chanced that close to the spot where the buck had entered the water there was a black log. It lay along the water in a direction parallel to the bank, and seemed to be floating—though only a small portion of it appeared above the surface. Saturated with the water, as it must have been, its weight perhaps had thus partially immersed it. The boys had given no heed to this log. It was the half-decayed trunk of some tree—perhaps the black-barked acacia—that had been carried downstream during flood-time, and had made a lodgment in the little bay, where the path entered the water. Of course to such an ordinary circumstance the boys gave no heed. Neither did the waterbuck. Ah! false security! Better for the antelope had it heeded that log! Better for it had it “looked before leaping,” and carefully scrutinised that black-barked thing—for black though it was, it was not the log of any acacia.That log was alive!To the astonishment of all the boys, and no doubt to the far greater astonishment of the waterbuck, the dark object suddenly became endowed with motive power, and was seen to dart forward with the velocity of an arrow towards the spot where the animal was drinking. It was no longer a log, but a hideous reptile—a crocodile of gigantic dimensions!The boys expected to see the waterbuck rear back, and attempt to escape. No doubt so it would have done, had the crocodile missed its aim, but the latter had not missed. On the contrary, it had seized the muzzle of the antelope in its long gaunt jaws, and was proceeding to drag its victim under the water.There was a struggle not of long duration, but it was terrible while it lasted. The buck pranced, and plunged and spread his legs, and endeavoured to shake off his reptile assailant. Several times he was brought to his knees; but being a powerful animal he recovered his legs again, and once nearly succeeded in drawing the crocodile out upon the bank. All the while, too, he kept striking forward with his sharp fore-hoofs; but desperate as were the hits he made, they produced no impression upon the harsh scaly coat of his amphibious antagonist. Had the latter held him by any other part, he might have had some chance of escape; but seized as he had been by the very tip of his snout, his head was all the time kept close down to the water, and the awkward position rendered it impossible for him to make use of his horns—his principal weapons of defence.The crocodile was by no means one of the largest of his kind—else the struggle would have ended sooner. A very large one—that is, one of sixteen to twenty feet in length—can drag a buffalo bull under water, and a buffalo bull possesses four times the strength of a waterbuck. The one now seen was not over ten feet long; and the strong waterbuck might have been a full match for it, had it not been for the unfair hold which it had taken. In that, however, lay the advantage of the reptile, and it seemed to be aware of it, for from the first moment it never relaxed the “clutch” it had taken, but held on with its terrible teeth and strong jaws, closed like a clamp on the snout of its victim!Now the crocodile was raised some feet out of the river, and the boys could see its ugly breast, and spread hand-like claws; now using its powerful tail as a fulcrum it would strike against the water, and then the head of the buck would be plunged below the surface, and held down for minutes at a time. Of course during all this while the water was kept in commotion; and, what with the struggles of the quadruped and the lashing of the reptile’s tail, a constant spray of froth and bubbles marked the scene of the strife.The conflict at length came to an end. The water-tyrant triumphed. The buck was dragged into the river beyond his depth; and although few quadrupeds could swim as well as he, once off his legs he was no longer a match for the amphibious saurian. His head and horns both disappeared beneath the surface—now and then the tail of the crocodile flapped upward, as it exerted itself to keep its victim under—and then both reptile and quadruped sank to the bottom of the river, and were seen no more!For some time the hunters remained watching the surface of the water. They saw the frothy bubbles floating over the spot—some of them reddish with the blood of the waterbuck—but the current soon carried them away, and the river glided past smooth and silent as if no such commotion had occurred in its waters.The hunters all returned to the wagons, and a conversation now occurred about crocodiles, in which Congo took part.The Kaffir had hunted upon the great river Limpopo, which lay to the northeast of their present camp. He alleged that there crocodiles were very numerous, and some were seen of enormous dimensions, attaining to thirty feet in length, with bodies as thick as a rhinoceros; that such scenes, as that they had just witnessed, were of no uncommon occurrence there. He said that the larger crocodiles frequently attacked buffaloes, precisely as this one had done the waterbuck—that they lie in wait by the watering-places of these animals, and seizing them by the muzzle when they are drinking, drag them under water, and thus suffocate them.But Congo related a still more curious habit of the crocodiles. He asserted that they never devour their prey until it becomes quite decomposed—that is, until it attains the condition of carrion. He stated that when a crocodile has killed a buffalo or any large animal, it always drags the carcass back to the shore, and, leaving it exposed to the action of the sun’s rays, watches near it until the flesh has becometainted to its taste! The young yägers had heard of this before; but were not inclined to believe it, though Congo now assured them of its truth—alleging that this habit of the crocodile was well known among the native hunters of the Limpopo.Notwithstanding the sneers of many naturalists, the simple savage was right, as the young yägers themselves were soon enabled to prove.I have said that when the crocodile and his victim disappeared below the surface, they were seen no more. That, however, was not strictly true. Both of them were seen again, and in a very short while after—more than seen, indeed; for the crocodile was killed by a bullet from Groot Willem’s roer; and upon venison steaks, cut from the buttocks of the waterbuck, both Congo and Swartboy—as well as the buck-dogs—made them a hearty supper.It was thus the thing came about. Hans had entered into a dissertation about crocodiles in general. He was informing his companions of the number of new species of these creatures that had been lately discovered, and pointing out the great progress of natural science during the present half century; how the crocodiles were divided by modern naturalists into many genera, and that, including the caimans and alligators of America, and the gavials of Asia, the whole crocodile family could not number less than two dozen living species, although but a few years ago it was supposed there were but three kinds in existence; how America possessed true crocodiles as well as alligators; how the number of species in America was greater than that of Africa and Asia taken together; how there were none of these great reptiles found either in Europe or Australasia; and, among other things, Hans was pointing out the difficulty which existed in determining both the genera and species of all theCrocodilidae.While the yägers were listening to these details, the Kaffir, who had been squatted with his eyes bent upon the river, suddenly started from his crouching attitude, and pointed down to the bank, toward a small brake of reeds that grew out of the water.All eyes were turned in that direction, and it was perceived that some of the reeds were shaking about, as if a large creature was moving among them. The reeds were nodding about and bending downward in bunches, and breaking as if under some heavy pressure, and crackling as they broke. What could be causing such a commotion amongst them? It did not appear like the natural motion of any wild animal, for these glide about, even in their undisturbed haunts, in a stealthy and easy manner. There was something unusual going on among the reeds. What could it be?The young yägers were determined to find out; and for this purpose they drew near the margin of the reeds. They did not approach them openly, but crawled forward under cover of the grass and bushes, observing perfect silence, so as not to fright away whatever creature was causing the movement.Fortunately the reed-culms did not grow so thickly as to obscure the view; and when near, it was possible to see a large object moving in their midst. And a large objectwasseen—a large dark creature which was at once recognised as a crocodile.It might have been another crocodile, and not that which had just drowned the waterbuck; but the hunters were not left to conjecture on this point, for, while watching its movements, they now perceived the carcass of the waterbuck itself, which the huge reptile was dragging up among the reeds, evidently with the intention of raising it out of the water! For this purpose it was using its powerful jaws, as well as its snout, and strong forearms—now pulling the body along a bit, then pushing and rolling it over towards the bank.The boys watched these strange manoeuvres for some moments in silence; but Groot Willem had brought his gun with him, and choosing a moment when the huge saurian was resting a little, he aimed for the socket of its eyeball, and sent the big bullet of his roer crashing through its skull.The reptile plunged back into the river, and went to the bottom leaving the wave tinged with blood. Presently it rose to the surface, struggling violently, and evidently in great agony. Now it raised the fore-part of its hideous body quite out of the water; then its head went under, and its long tail was flouted into the air; then up came its head again, and so on, till at length its struggles ceased, and it sank to the bottom like a stone. No doubt it sank to rise no more.Congo and Swartboy rushed in among the reeds, and drawing out the waterbuck—somewhat lacerated by the teeth of its destroyer—dragged it in triumph to the camp.
All eyes were fixed upon the beautiful animal as it approached the river. With light majestic step it advanced to the bank, and without pausing walked down the slope. It had no fear of the water, and stepped into it without hesitation.
The boys were in hopes that it intended to cross the river. On the opposite bank it was too distant for the a carry of their guns—even the elephant roer could not have sent a bullet to that side with any chance of hitting. Should the antelope cross, however, the case would be different. It might then come within range of their pieces; and, to make sure, Hendrik and Groot Willem had stolen under the cover of the reeds, and advanced nearer the crossing-place.
They were doomed to disappointment, however. The waterbuck had no intention of crossing. It had come to drink; and having waded in knee-deep, it stopped, and dipped its muzzle into the water for that purpose.
With disappointed looks the boys remained gazing upon it as it drank.
Now it chanced that close to the spot where the buck had entered the water there was a black log. It lay along the water in a direction parallel to the bank, and seemed to be floating—though only a small portion of it appeared above the surface. Saturated with the water, as it must have been, its weight perhaps had thus partially immersed it. The boys had given no heed to this log. It was the half-decayed trunk of some tree—perhaps the black-barked acacia—that had been carried downstream during flood-time, and had made a lodgment in the little bay, where the path entered the water. Of course to such an ordinary circumstance the boys gave no heed. Neither did the waterbuck. Ah! false security! Better for the antelope had it heeded that log! Better for it had it “looked before leaping,” and carefully scrutinised that black-barked thing—for black though it was, it was not the log of any acacia.That log was alive!
To the astonishment of all the boys, and no doubt to the far greater astonishment of the waterbuck, the dark object suddenly became endowed with motive power, and was seen to dart forward with the velocity of an arrow towards the spot where the animal was drinking. It was no longer a log, but a hideous reptile—a crocodile of gigantic dimensions!
The boys expected to see the waterbuck rear back, and attempt to escape. No doubt so it would have done, had the crocodile missed its aim, but the latter had not missed. On the contrary, it had seized the muzzle of the antelope in its long gaunt jaws, and was proceeding to drag its victim under the water.
There was a struggle not of long duration, but it was terrible while it lasted. The buck pranced, and plunged and spread his legs, and endeavoured to shake off his reptile assailant. Several times he was brought to his knees; but being a powerful animal he recovered his legs again, and once nearly succeeded in drawing the crocodile out upon the bank. All the while, too, he kept striking forward with his sharp fore-hoofs; but desperate as were the hits he made, they produced no impression upon the harsh scaly coat of his amphibious antagonist. Had the latter held him by any other part, he might have had some chance of escape; but seized as he had been by the very tip of his snout, his head was all the time kept close down to the water, and the awkward position rendered it impossible for him to make use of his horns—his principal weapons of defence.
The crocodile was by no means one of the largest of his kind—else the struggle would have ended sooner. A very large one—that is, one of sixteen to twenty feet in length—can drag a buffalo bull under water, and a buffalo bull possesses four times the strength of a waterbuck. The one now seen was not over ten feet long; and the strong waterbuck might have been a full match for it, had it not been for the unfair hold which it had taken. In that, however, lay the advantage of the reptile, and it seemed to be aware of it, for from the first moment it never relaxed the “clutch” it had taken, but held on with its terrible teeth and strong jaws, closed like a clamp on the snout of its victim!
Now the crocodile was raised some feet out of the river, and the boys could see its ugly breast, and spread hand-like claws; now using its powerful tail as a fulcrum it would strike against the water, and then the head of the buck would be plunged below the surface, and held down for minutes at a time. Of course during all this while the water was kept in commotion; and, what with the struggles of the quadruped and the lashing of the reptile’s tail, a constant spray of froth and bubbles marked the scene of the strife.
The conflict at length came to an end. The water-tyrant triumphed. The buck was dragged into the river beyond his depth; and although few quadrupeds could swim as well as he, once off his legs he was no longer a match for the amphibious saurian. His head and horns both disappeared beneath the surface—now and then the tail of the crocodile flapped upward, as it exerted itself to keep its victim under—and then both reptile and quadruped sank to the bottom of the river, and were seen no more!
For some time the hunters remained watching the surface of the water. They saw the frothy bubbles floating over the spot—some of them reddish with the blood of the waterbuck—but the current soon carried them away, and the river glided past smooth and silent as if no such commotion had occurred in its waters.
The hunters all returned to the wagons, and a conversation now occurred about crocodiles, in which Congo took part.
The Kaffir had hunted upon the great river Limpopo, which lay to the northeast of their present camp. He alleged that there crocodiles were very numerous, and some were seen of enormous dimensions, attaining to thirty feet in length, with bodies as thick as a rhinoceros; that such scenes, as that they had just witnessed, were of no uncommon occurrence there. He said that the larger crocodiles frequently attacked buffaloes, precisely as this one had done the waterbuck—that they lie in wait by the watering-places of these animals, and seizing them by the muzzle when they are drinking, drag them under water, and thus suffocate them.
But Congo related a still more curious habit of the crocodiles. He asserted that they never devour their prey until it becomes quite decomposed—that is, until it attains the condition of carrion. He stated that when a crocodile has killed a buffalo or any large animal, it always drags the carcass back to the shore, and, leaving it exposed to the action of the sun’s rays, watches near it until the flesh has becometainted to its taste! The young yägers had heard of this before; but were not inclined to believe it, though Congo now assured them of its truth—alleging that this habit of the crocodile was well known among the native hunters of the Limpopo.
Notwithstanding the sneers of many naturalists, the simple savage was right, as the young yägers themselves were soon enabled to prove.
I have said that when the crocodile and his victim disappeared below the surface, they were seen no more. That, however, was not strictly true. Both of them were seen again, and in a very short while after—more than seen, indeed; for the crocodile was killed by a bullet from Groot Willem’s roer; and upon venison steaks, cut from the buttocks of the waterbuck, both Congo and Swartboy—as well as the buck-dogs—made them a hearty supper.
It was thus the thing came about. Hans had entered into a dissertation about crocodiles in general. He was informing his companions of the number of new species of these creatures that had been lately discovered, and pointing out the great progress of natural science during the present half century; how the crocodiles were divided by modern naturalists into many genera, and that, including the caimans and alligators of America, and the gavials of Asia, the whole crocodile family could not number less than two dozen living species, although but a few years ago it was supposed there were but three kinds in existence; how America possessed true crocodiles as well as alligators; how the number of species in America was greater than that of Africa and Asia taken together; how there were none of these great reptiles found either in Europe or Australasia; and, among other things, Hans was pointing out the difficulty which existed in determining both the genera and species of all theCrocodilidae.
While the yägers were listening to these details, the Kaffir, who had been squatted with his eyes bent upon the river, suddenly started from his crouching attitude, and pointed down to the bank, toward a small brake of reeds that grew out of the water.
All eyes were turned in that direction, and it was perceived that some of the reeds were shaking about, as if a large creature was moving among them. The reeds were nodding about and bending downward in bunches, and breaking as if under some heavy pressure, and crackling as they broke. What could be causing such a commotion amongst them? It did not appear like the natural motion of any wild animal, for these glide about, even in their undisturbed haunts, in a stealthy and easy manner. There was something unusual going on among the reeds. What could it be?
The young yägers were determined to find out; and for this purpose they drew near the margin of the reeds. They did not approach them openly, but crawled forward under cover of the grass and bushes, observing perfect silence, so as not to fright away whatever creature was causing the movement.
Fortunately the reed-culms did not grow so thickly as to obscure the view; and when near, it was possible to see a large object moving in their midst. And a large objectwasseen—a large dark creature which was at once recognised as a crocodile.
It might have been another crocodile, and not that which had just drowned the waterbuck; but the hunters were not left to conjecture on this point, for, while watching its movements, they now perceived the carcass of the waterbuck itself, which the huge reptile was dragging up among the reeds, evidently with the intention of raising it out of the water! For this purpose it was using its powerful jaws, as well as its snout, and strong forearms—now pulling the body along a bit, then pushing and rolling it over towards the bank.
The boys watched these strange manoeuvres for some moments in silence; but Groot Willem had brought his gun with him, and choosing a moment when the huge saurian was resting a little, he aimed for the socket of its eyeball, and sent the big bullet of his roer crashing through its skull.
The reptile plunged back into the river, and went to the bottom leaving the wave tinged with blood. Presently it rose to the surface, struggling violently, and evidently in great agony. Now it raised the fore-part of its hideous body quite out of the water; then its head went under, and its long tail was flouted into the air; then up came its head again, and so on, till at length its struggles ceased, and it sank to the bottom like a stone. No doubt it sank to rise no more.
Congo and Swartboy rushed in among the reeds, and drawing out the waterbuck—somewhat lacerated by the teeth of its destroyer—dragged it in triumph to the camp.