The hippopotami were playing together, floundering in the shallow water,
and the noise they made prevented their hearing the stealthy approach of
their enemies.
“You take the one nearest shore, Frank, I will take the other. Aim at
the forehead between the eyes. I will make a slight sound to attract
their attention.”
Frank knelt on one knee and took steady aim. Mr. Goodenough then gave
a shout, and the two animals turning their heads stood staring at
the foliage, scarce a dozen yards away, in which the travelers were
concealed. The guns flashed at the same moment, and as if struck by
lightning the hippopotami fell in the stream. The explosive balls had
both flown true to the mark, invariably a fatal one in the case of the
river horse. Frank as he fired had taken another rifle which the Houssas
held in readiness for him, but there was no occasion for its use.
The Fans came running up, and on seeing the great beasts lying in the
stream, gave a shout of joy.
“That will do for this evening,” Mr. Goodenough said. “They are large
beasts, and will give food enough for a week or ten days.”
They then returned to the camp which, at the news brought by one of the
Fans, had already been deserted. Before the natives retired to sleep
the hippopotami had been cut up and carried to the camp. Portions
were already frizzling over the fires, other parts set aside for the
consumption of the next two days, and the rest cut up in strips to be
dried in the sun. The tongue of one was cut up and fried as a great
luxury for the white men's supper by Ostik. It is not often that the
natives of equatorial Africa are able to indulge in meat, and the joy
of the Fans at this abundant supply, and the prospect afforded them of
further good eating, raised their spirits to the highest extent.
Next morning at daybreak Mr. Goodenough and Frank set out from the camp.
Each carried a double barreled gun, and was accompanied by one of the
Houssas carrying his rifle and a butterfly net, and when three hours
later they returned to the camp for breakfast and compared their spoils
they found that an excellent beginning had been made. Nearly a score of
birds, of which several were very rare, and five were pronounced by
Mr. Goodenough to be entirely new, had been shot, and many butterflies
captured. Frank had been most successful in this respect, as he had come
across a small clearing in which were several deserted huts. This was
just the place in which butterflies delight, for, although many kinds
prefer the deep shades of the forest, by far the greater portion love
the bright sunlight.
After breakfast they again set out, Frank this time keeping along the
edge of the stream, where he had observed many butterflies as he came
up, and where many birds of the kingfisher family had also been seen. He
had been very successful, and was walking along by the edge of the water
with his eyes fixed upon the trees above, where he had a minute before
heard the call of a bird, when he was startled by a shout from the
Houssa behind him. He involuntarily sprang back, and it was well he did
so; for on the instant something swept by within an inch or two of his
head. Looking round he saw, at the edge of the stream below him, a huge
alligator. This had struck at him with its tail--the usual manner in
which the alligator supplies itself with food--and had it not been for
the warning cry of the Houssa, would have knocked him into the stream.
Its mouth was open and Frank, as if by instinct, fired the contents of
both barrels into its throat. The animal rolled over on to its back
in the water and then turned as if to struggle to regain the bank. The
Houssa, however, had run up, and, placing the muzzle of his gun within a
foot of its eye, fired, and the creature rolled over dead, and was swept
away by the stream.
The Houssa gave a loud shout which was answered in the distance. He
then shouted two or three words, and turning to Frank said: “Men get
alligator,” and proceeded on his way without concerning himself further
in the matter.
On his return to camp in the evening Frank found that the alligator had
been discovered and fished out, and that its steaks were by no means bad
eating. Frank told Mr. Goodenough of the narrow escape he had had, and
the latter pointed out to him the necessity of always keeping his eyes
on the watch.
“Alligators frequently carry off the native women when engaged in
washing,” he said, “and almost invariably strike them, in the first
place, into the river with a blow of their tails. Once in the water they
are carried off, drowned, and eaten at leisure. Sometimes, indeed,
a woman may escape with the loss of a foot or arm, but this is the
exception.”
“What is the best thing to do when so attacked?” Frank asked. “I don't
mean to be caught napping again, still it is as well to know what to do
if I am.”
“Men when so attacked have been known frequently to escape by thrusting
their thumbs or fingers into the creature's eyes. If it can be done the
alligator is sure to lose his hold, but it demands quickness and great
presence of mind. When a reptile is tearing at one's leg, and hurrying
one along under water, you can see that the nerve required to keep
perfectly cool, to feel for the creature's eyes, and to thrust your
finger into them is very great. The best plan, Frank, distinctly is to
keep out of their reach altogether.”
After remaining for a fortnight at their camp they prepared for a move.
Another hippopotamus was killed, cut up and dried, and the flesh added
to the burdens. Then the tent was struck and they proceeded farther into
the mountains. Two days later they halted again, the site being chosen
beside a little mountain rivulet. They were now very high up in
the hills, Mr. Goodenough expecting to meet with new varieties of
butterflies and insects at this elevation. They had scarcely pitched
their camp when Frank exclaimed:
“Surely, Mr. Goodenough, I can hear some dogs barking! I did not know
that the native dogs barked.”
“Nor do they. They may yelp and howl, but they never bark like European
dogs. What you hear is the bark of some sort of monkey or baboon.”
This opinion was at once confirmed by the Fans.
“We will sally out with our guns at once,” Mr. Goodenough said.
“I don't like the thought of shooting monkeys,” Frank muttered, as he
took up his Winchester carbine.
“They are very excellent eating,” Mr. Goodenough continued, “superior in
my opinion, and, indeed, in that of most travelers, to any other meat.
We shall meet with no other kind of creature fit for food up here. The
birds, indeed, supply us amply, but for the men it is desirable that we
should obtain fresh meat when we have the chance. These baboons are very
mischievous creatures, and are not to be attacked with impunity. Let
four of the Houssas with their guns come with us.”
Following the direction of the sounds they had heard, the travelers came
upon a troupe of great baboons. It was a curious sight. The males were
as big as large dogs, some were sitting sunning themselves on rocks,
others were being scratched by the females. Many of these had a baby
monkey clinging on their necks, while others were playing about in all
directions.
“I'd rather not shoot at them, Mr. Goodenough,” Frank said.
“You will be glad enough to eat them,” Mr. Goodenough answered, and
selecting a big male he fired. The creature fell dead. The others all
sprang to their feet. The females and little ones scampered off. The
males, with angry gestures, rushed upon their assailants, barking,
showing their teeth, and making menacing gestures. Mr. Goodenough fired
again, and Frank now, seeing that they were likely to be attacked, also
opened fire. Six of the baboons were killed before the others abstained
from the attack and went screaming after the females. The dead baboons
were brought down, skinned, and two were at once roasted, the others
hung up to trees. It required a great effort on Frank's part to overcome
his repugnance to tasting these creatures, but, when he did so, he
admitted that the meat was excellent.
That night they were disturbed by a cry of terror from the men. Seizing
their rifles they ran out.
“There are two leopards, sar,” Ostik said; “they have smelt the
monkeys.”
The shouts scared the creatures away, and the natives kept up a great
fire till morning.
“We must get the skins if we can,” Mr. Goodenough said. “The skins of
the equatorial leopard are rare. If we can get them both they will make
a fine group for you to stuff when you get back, Frank.”
“Are you thinking of following their trail?” Frank asked.
“That would be useless,” Mr. Goodenough answered. “In soft swampy ground
we might do so, but up here it would be out of the question. We must set
a bait for them tonight, but be careful while you are out today. They
have probably not gone far from the camp, and they are very formidable
beasts. They not unfrequently attack and kill the natives.”
The Fans were much alarmed at the neighborhood of the leopards, and none
would leave the camp during the day. Two of the Houssas were left on
guard, although Mr. Goodenough felt sure that the animals would
not attempt to carry off any meat in the daylight, and two Houssas
accompanied each of the travelers while out in search of butterflies.
Nothing was heard of the leopards during the day. At nightfall a portion
of one of the monkeys was roasted and hung up, so as to swing within
four feet of the ground from the arm of a tree, a hundred yards from the
camp. Mr. Goodenough and Frank took their seats in another tree a short
distance off. The night was fine and the stars clear and bright. The
tree on which the meat hung stood somewhat alone, so that sufficient
light penetrated from above to enable any creatures approaching the
bait to be seen. Instead of his little Winchester, Frank had one of the
Sniders with explosive bullets. The Houssas were told to keep a sharp
watch in camp, in case the leopards, approaching from the other side,
might be attracted by the smell of meat there, rather than by the bait.
The Fans needed no telling to induce them to keep up great fires all
night.
Soon after dark the watchers heard a roaring in the forest. It came from
the other side of the camp.
“That is unlucky,” Mr. Goodenough said. “We have pitched on the
wrong side. However, they will probably be deterred by the fire from
approaching the camp, and will wander round and round: so we may hope to
hear of them before long.”
In answer to the roar of the leopards the natives kept up a continued
shouting. For some hours the roaring continued at intervals, sometimes
close at hand, sometimes at a considerable distance. Frank had some
difficulty in keeping awake, and was beginning to wish that the leopards
would move off altogether. Two or three times he had nearly dozed off,
and his rifle had almost slipped from his hold. All at once he was
aroused by a sharp nudge from his companion. Fixing his eyes on the bait
he made out something immediately below it. Directly afterwards
another creature stole forward. They were far less distinct than he had
expected.
“You take the one to the left,” Mr. Goodenough whispered; “Now!”
They fired together. Two tremendous roars were heard. One of the
leopards immediately bounded away. The other rolled over and over, and
then, recovering its feet, followed its companion, Mr. Goodenough firing
his second barrel after him.
“I'm afraid you missed altogether, Frank,” he said.
“I don't think so, sir. I fancied I saw the flash of the shell as it
struck him, but where, I have not the remotest idea. I could not make
him out clear enough. It was merely a dim shape, and I fired as well as
I could at the middle of it.
“Shall we go back to the camp now?” Frank asked.
“Yes, we can safely do so. You can tell by the sound of the roars that
they are already some distance away. There is little chance of their
returning tonight. In the morning we will follow them. There is sure to
be blood, and the natives will have no difficulty in tracking them.”
The rest of the night passed quietly, although roars and howling could
be heard from time to time in the distance.
Early in the morning they started with the Houssas.
“We must be careful today,” Mr. Goodenough said, “for a wounded leopard
is a really formidable beast.”
There was no difficulty in taking up the traces.
“One of them at least must be hard hit,” Mr. Goodenough remarked; “there
are traces of blood every yard.”
They had gone but a short distance when one of the Houssas gave a sudden
exclamation, and pointed to something lying at the edge of a clump of
bushes.
“Leopard,” he said.
“Yes, there is one of them, sure enough. I think it's dead, but we
cannot be too cautious. Advance very carefully, Frank, keeping ready to
fire instantly.”
They moved forward slowly in a body, but their precaution was
unnecessary. There was no movement in the spotted, tawny skin as they
advanced, and when they came close they could see that the leopard was
really dead. He had been hit by two bullets. The first had struck his
shoulder and exploded there, inflicting so terrible a wound that it was
wonderful he had been able to move afterwards. The other had struck him
on the back, near the tail, and had burst inside him. Frank on seeing
the nature of the wounds was astonished at the tenacity of life shown by
the animal.
“I wonder whether I hit the other,” he said.
“I have no doubt at all about it,” Mr. Goodenough answered, “although I
did not think so before. It seemed to me that I only heard the howls of
one animal in the night, and thought it was the one I had hit. But as
this fellow must have died at once, it is clear that the cries were made
by the other.”
A sharp search was now set up for the tracks of the other leopard, the
Houssas going back to the tree and taking it up anew. They soon found
traces of blood in a line diverging from that followed by the other
animal. For an hour they followed this, great care being required, as
at times no spots of blood could be seen for a considerable distance. At
last they seemed to lose it altogether. Mr. Goodenough and Frank stood
together, while the Houssas, scattered round, were hunting like well
trained dogs for a sign. Suddenly there was a sharp roar, and from
the bough of a tree close by a great body sprang through the air and
alighted within a yard of Frank. The latter, in his surprise, sprang
back, stumbled and fell, but in an instant the report of the two barrels
of Mr. Goodenough's rifle rang out. In a moment Frank was on his feet
again ready to fire. The leopard, however, lay dead, its skull almost
blown off.
“You have had another narrow escape,” Mr. Goodenough said. “I see that
your ball last night broke one of his hind legs. That spoilt his spring.
Had it not been for that he would undoubtedly have reached you, and a
blow with his paw, given with all his weight and impetus, would probably
have killed you on the spot. We ought not to have stood near a tree
strong enough to bear him when in pursuit of a wounded leopard. They
will always take to trees if they can, and you see this was a very
suitable one for him. This bough on which he was lying starts from the
trunk only about four feet from the ground, so that even with his broken
leg he was able to get upon it without difficulty. Well, thank God,
you've not been hurt, my boy. It will teach us both to be more careful
in future.”
That afternoon Frank was down with his second attack of fever, a much
more severe one than the first had been. Mr. Goodenough's favorite
remedy had its effect of producing profuse perspiration, but two or
three hours afterwards the hot fit again came on, and for the next four
days Frank lay half delirious, at one time consumed with heat, and the
next shivering as if plunged into ice water. Copious doses of quinine,
however, gradually overcame the fever, and on the fifth day he
was convalescent. It was, nevertheless, another week before he was
sufficiently recovered to be able to resume his hunting expeditions.
They again shifted their camp, and this time traveled for three weeks,
making short journeys, and halting early so as to give half a day from
each camping place for their work.
Frank was one day out as usual with one of the Houssas. He had killed
several birds when he saw a butterfly, of a species which he had not
before met with, flitting across a gleam of sunshine which streamed in
through a rift in the trees. He told his Houssa to wait where he was
in charge of the two guns and birds, and started off with his net in
pursuit of the butterfly. The creature fluttered away with Frank in
full pursuit. Hither and thither it flitted, seemingly taking an impish
delight in tantalizing Frank, settling on a spot where a gleam of
sunlight streamed upon the bark of a tree, till Frank had stolen up
within a couple of paces of it, and then darting away again at a pace
which defied Frank's best attempts to keep up with it until it chose to
play with him again. Intent only upon his chase Frank thought of nothing
else. At last, with a shout of triumph, he inclosed the creature in his
net, shook it into the wide pickle bottle, containing a sponge soaked
with chloroform, and then, after tightly fitting in the stopper, he
looked around. He uttered an exclamation of dismay as he did so. He saw
by the bands of light the sun was already setting, and knew that he must
have been for upwards of an hour in chase of the butterfly. He had not
the slightest idea of the direction in which he had come. He had, he
knew, run up hill and down, but whether he had been traveling in a
circle or going straight in one direction, he had not the least idea.
He might be within a hundred yards of the spot where he had left the
Houssa. He might be three or four miles away.
He at once drew out his revolver, which he always carried strapped to
his belt, and discharged the six chambers, waiting for half a minute
between each shot, and listening intently for an answer to his signal.
None came. The stillness of the wood was unbroken, and Frank felt that
he must have wandered far indeed from his starting place, and that he
was completely lost. His first impulse was to start off instantly at the
top of his speed, but a moment's thought convinced him that this would
be useless. He had not an idea of the direction which he should pursue.
Besides the sun was sinking, twilight is short in the tropics, and in
half an hour it would be as dark as midnight in the forest. Remembering
his adventure with the leopard he determined to climb into a tree and
pass the night there. He knew that an active search would be set on
foot by his friends next morning, and that, as every step he took was as
likely to lead him from as towards the camp, it was better to stay where
he was.
He soon found a tree with a branch which would suit his purpose, and,
climbing up into it, lit his pipe and prepared for an uncomfortable
night. Frank had never smoked until he reached Africa, but he had then
taken to it on the advice of Mr. Goodenough, who told him that smoking
was certainly a preventive, to some extent, of fever in malarious
countries, and, although he had not liked it at first, he had now taken
kindly to his pipe, and smoked from the time when the evening mists
began to rise until he went to bed.
The time passed very slowly. The cries of wild creatures could be heard
in the woods, and although Frank did not expect to be attacked, it was
impossible to sleep with these calls of leopards, with which the forest
seemed to abound, in his ears. He had reloaded his revolver immediately
after discharging it, and had replaced it in his pouch, and felt
confident that nothing could climb the tree. Besides, he had heard that
leopards seldom attack men unless themselves attacked. Sleep, however,
was out of the question, for when he slept he might have fallen from
his seat in the crotch of the tree. Occasionally, however, he dozed off,
waking up always with an uncomfortable start, and a feeling that he
had just saved himself from falling. With the earliest dawn of morn he
descended, stiff and weary, from the tree. Directly the sun rose he set
off walking. He knew at least that he was to the south of the camp, and
that by keeping the sun on his right hand till it reached the zenith
he must get in time to the little stream on which it was pitched. As
he walked he listened intently for the sound of guns. Once or twice
he fancied that he heard them, but he was quite unable to judge of the
direction. He had been out with the Houssa about six hours before he
strayed from him in the pursuit of the butterfly, and they had for some
time been walking towards the camp, in order to reach it by nightfall.
Thus he thought, that at that time, he could only have been some three
or four miles distant from it. Supposing that he had run due south, he
could still be but eight miles from the stream, and he thought that
in three hours' walking he might arrive there. In point of fact, after
leaving the Houssa the butterfly had led him towards the southeast, and
as the stream took a sharp bend to the north a little distance above the
camp, he was many miles farther from it than he expected. This stream
was one of the upper tributaries of the Gaboon.
After walking for two hours the character of the forest changed. The
high trees were farther apart, and a thick undergrowth began to make its
appearance, frequently causing him to make long detours and preventing
his following the line he had marked out for himself. This caused him
much uneasiness, for he knew that he had passed across no such country
on his way from the camp, and the thought that he might experience great
difficulties in recovering it, now began to press upon him.