The hunters were now intent upon but one object,--that of procuring the
giraffes. The roar of a lion near the camp could not have drawn them
out of it. An elephant carrying many pounds of ivory was a sight that
did not awaken sufficient interest to tempt a pursuit. All had a full
appreciation of the task to be accomplished before they could return to
their home, and they would allow nothing to interfere with the business
before them.
By the side of the mimosa grove, which was now to be the scene of their
labours, ran a small stream. On its banks they soon discovered the
spoor of giraffes. Some of the tracks were of small dimensions,
evidently the hoof-marks of young calves. Groot Willem was in high
spirits. There was once more a prospect of satisfying his hunter
ambition. His companions, though not so confident of success, were
equally as anxious to obtain it.
The day after their arrival on the borders of the _cameel-doorn_ forest,
a drove of giraffes was seen coming out from among the timber and making
their way to the stream.
The timid animals, unaware of their proximity to man, walked on until
within one hundred and fifty yards of the spot where the hunters stood,
before seeing the latter. They then turned suddenly, and with a swift
but awkward gait retreated westward across the open plain, and entirely
away from the mimosa forest. Hendrik and Arend were with some
difficulty restrained from pursuing them. There was an opportunity for
an exciting chase; and to remain inactive and see the giraffes disappear
over the plain, required a strong self-denying effort.
It was Groot Willem who held them in check.
"Did you not see that there were three young ones in the drove?" said
he. "Their home is very likely in this forest and we must not frighten
them away from it."
"They have already been hunted," answered Hendrik. "I am sure I saw an
arrow sticking in the side of one of them. Some black has amused
himself by torturing a creature he was unable to kill."
"It's a great pity they saw us at all," said Willem; "but they will
probably return to the shelter of the trees. We must make sure that
they have their haunt about here; and then we can send for some of
Macora's people, and let them build us another trap. That appears to be
the only way of catching them."
Another day passed, in which the hunters amused themselves in killing
reed bucks and other game in larger quantities than they required.
Nothing more of the giraffes was seen; and on the next day the party
started off on the spoor of the giraffes they had seen.
Another mimosa forest was discovered about fifteen miles farther to the
west; and on riding around it, they came upon a small lagoon. Its banks
were trampled with the hoof-marks of many giraffes, some of which were
very small. They had evidently been lately made, and by the same drove
they had seen three days before. From this it was evident that the
flock frequented both forests.
"We have seen quite enough for the present," said Willem. "Our next
plan is to send for Macora's promised assistance, and construct another
trap."
In this all the others agreed; and then arose the question. Where shall
the trap be built?
"We may as well have it at the other grove," said Hendrik, "for we can
easily drive them back to the place where they were first seen."
No strong reasons could be advanced against this suggestion, and it was
adopted.
Next morning two of the Makololo were despatched to Macora, for the
purpose of claiming his promised assistance; and all went back to the
forest first visited, and there encamped.
On the day the chief's workmen were expected to arrive, Hendrik and
Arend had ridden a few miles up the stream seeking for something to
destroy. Impelled by that incomprehensible desire for taking life so
natural to the hunter, they could not rest quietly at night unless they
had killed something during the day.
They had arrived at a thick belt of forest, consisting of acacias and
evergreen shrubs, and trees of the strelitzia, zamia, and speckboom,
when their ears were assailed by the sound of breaking branches, and the
unmistakable rushing of some large animals through the thicket.
"Prepare yourself, Arend; we may have some sport here," cried Hendrik,
and both drew rein to await the _denouement_.
A few seconds only elapsed when the forms of two full-grown giraffes
were observed breaking from the thicket. On the back of one of these
was a leopard. Blood was streaming down its breast, and it was reeling
wildly in its gait.
Knowing that the leopard is a cowardly creature, and that its capability
for taking its prey is so great that it rarely suffers from want of
food, and never where there is an abundance of game, the youths knew
that its attack on the giraffe must have been caused by some other
motive than that of satisfying the appetite of hunger. Its young had
been disturbed in their lair, or the giraffes had in some other way
aroused its animosity. On reaching the open ground it was seen that the
unencumbered giraffe quickly forsook its companion, which was now
showing unmistakable signs of being able to go but a very little
farther. Its life-blood was flowing from its neck, and the stately
monster was about to topple over under the injuries it had received from
its fierce, agile enemy. The hunters were spectators of an incident
such had probably never before happened,--that of a leopard killing a
giraffe. Circumstances had favoured the beast of prey; and the huge
ruminant, that had in some unconscious way aroused its anger, was being
destroyed by an animal not the tenth part of its own strength or bulk.
Two dogs that were along with the hunters, not heeding the voices of
their owners, essayed to take a part in the destruction of the innocent
creature. Both ran yelping after it, and endeavoured to lay hold of its
heels. Lifting one of its feet, the tottering camelopard dashed it with
unerring aim against one of the dogs, with a force that threw the cur
several feet backward, where it lay sprawling in the last convulsive
motions of life. By making this effort, the reeling body of the giraffe
lost its balance, and throwing its head violently to one side it fell
heavily to the earth, its shoulders covering part of the leopard's body,
and crushing the latter to death. Like Samson, the leopard had brought
destruction upon itself!
Handing the reins of the bridle to Arend, Hendrik walked up within a few
feet of the leopard's head, and put an end to its snarling screams by a
ball through the brain.
What little life remained in the giraffe soon departed from it, along
with the blood which the beast of prey had let out of its veins.
Standing over the two carcasses, the hunters tried to arrive at some
comprehension of the strange scene they had witnessed. They had heard
of a lion having ridden on the back of a giraffe for a distance of many
miles, and had treated the story as a fabrication. Before them was
evidence that a leopard had travelled no little distance in a similar
manner. Why should not a lion do the same? Notwithstanding the
thickness of the hide that covered the neck of the giraffe, it had been
torn to shreds, that were hanging down over its shoulders. The long
claws and tusks of the leopard had been repeatedly buried in its flesh,
arteries and veins had been dragged from their beds and laid open, ere
the strength and life of the animal had forsaken it. This could not
have been the work of a few seconds.
Several minutes may have been required for inflicting the injuries the
giraffe had suffered, and during that time its merciless foe was
probably wholly unconscious that it was being borne far from the scene
where the attack had been commenced. Death had saved it from the
surprise of discovering that, in the practice of its ferocious fury, it
had been carried far away from the young it was making such efforts to
defend.