After killing the elephant, the natives commenced the less difficult
task of cutting it up and carrying it off to their kraal. The feet were
reserved for the especial use of the chief; and, while waiting for some
of his dependents to procure them, he granted our hunters an audience.
They were desirous to learn whether the kraal was ever visited by
traders,--a class of people they were anxious to meet, though Groot
Willem was more anxious to know whether giraffes ever visited the
neighbourhood. Congo was called, and for some time he and the chief
were heard talking in loud tones, and both at the same time; neither
exhibiting the least inclination to listen to one another! Their voices
grew louder and louder; and our adventurers saw that they were engaged
in a hot dispute, that threatened to end in something more unpleasant
than a war of words.
"What does he say, Congo," asked Willem.
"I don't know, baas Willem," answered the Kaffir with a shake of the
head, that betrayed some shame at his own ignorance.
"How is that?" demanded his master. "Can't you understand the language
he speaks?"
"No, baas Willem, he talks no Zooloo, no Kaffir of any kind."
"Then why were you pretending to interpret his language a few minutes
ago?" asked Hendrik.
"I was trying to learn it," answered Congo, in a tone conveying the
belief that he had given a satisfactory answer.
"We have no time to stop here for you to learn a language," said
Hendrik. "And if you can't converse with the man why did you not say
so? How came you to tell us what he was saying a few minutes ago?"
The attention of all was now called to Swartboy, who seemed overpowered
with joy.
It was some time before he was able to make himself understood; but at
last he was heard to mutter:--
"I tole you that Congo was a ole fool. Now you all see for yourselfs.
Look at 'im! Don't he look four, five, six times fool. I tole ye so."
"Can _you_ understand what the chief says?" asked Groot Willem.
"Yaas, baas Willem; any Swartman know dat."
"Then talk to him yourself. You know what we wish to learn from him."
The Bushman's features now assumed a quizzically comical expression; and
from this the hunters saw that he had become serious.
Going up to the chief he commenced a conversation, from which Willem
learned, after it was translated to him, that no giraffes had been seen
in the neighbourhood for many moons. Very few traders visited the
tribe; and those who had done so had not left a good name behind them.
The chief lived in the kraal seen not far away; and the hunters were
invited to pay him a visit.
This invitation was immediately accepted by Willem, who seemed to have
lost all desire to return to Graaf Reinet again.
This attempt on the part of Willem to delay their homeward journey was
easily defeated by Hendrik.
"Why should we go to their kraal?" asked he. "We shouldn't be allowed
to leave it for two or three days, and we want to go on in search of
giraffes. There are none here."
With this argument Willem was well pleased; and they prepared to
continue their journey.
Before making a move, they saw most of the elephant's flesh taken away
by the Bechuanas. Three oxen were laden with it, and several of the
natives staggered under heavy loads,--covered from head to foot with
long strips cut from the animal's sides. Some of the blacks carried
large square flakes of the flesh with their heads thrust through a hole
cut in the centre,--the broad disk descending over the shoulders like
the skirts of a Mexican's _serape_.
The sight of these people apparently clothed with bleeding flesh, and
staggering under its weight towards their homes, was, as Hendrik
observed, an "antidote against hunger, effectual for at least a month."
After taking leave of the tribe, our travellers continued on towards the
south. It was quite dark before they arrived at a suitable
camping-place. They had met with no water since leaving the pools
passed in the morning, and the cattle were sadly in want of it.
Unable to make much progress in the darkness that came thickly over
them, the animals--both oxen and horses--were unladen and a halt was
made, with the intention of resuming the march at the first dawn of day.
By early morning they were on the move, anxious to reach water as soon
as possible.
For several miles they journeyed over a tract of ground, the surface of
which resembled that of the ocean lashed by a storm. It was a
constantly recurring series of abrupt undulations, like huge billows and
the troughs between them.
Now for the first time they noticed the great difference that thirst
produces between horses and cow cattle. The latter seemed to think that
they could obtain relief by quietly yielding to the enervating effect of
thirst, and travelling as slowly as their drivers would permit them.
They were urged forward with much difficulty, and the Makololo were
constantly wielding their huge _jamboks_ to induce them to go quicker.
With a rolling gait they crawled unwillingly forward, their tongues
protruding from their mouths, each offering as perfect a picture of
despair as could well be imagined.
The horses on the contrary seemed eager to get over the ground as
quickly as possible. They appeared to act under the guidance of reason,
as if knowing that they were still far from the wished-for water, and
that the faster they travelled the sooner it would be reached.
Throughout the afternoon Hendrik and Willem rode in advance of the
others, anxiously looking out for spring, pool, or stream. The
all-sustaining fluid must be found that night, or their cattle would
perish. Their knowledge of this filled them with forebodings for the
future, and they travelled on almost as despairingly as their oxen.
They had made a great mistake in so imprudently parting with the
Bechuanas, without making inquiries about the country through which they
should have to travel. Had they done so, they might have avoided the
difficulty their indiscretion had now brought upon them.
A little before sunset a hill, higher than any they had seen during the
day, was descried to the right of their course. At its base they saw
growing a grove of stunted trees. Raising their heads and cocking their
ears, the horses ridden by Willem and Hendrik started off towards the
hill at a brisk pace, each uttering a low whimpering, that their riders
interpreted into the word _Water_. Before reaching the grove they
passed a dead lion, part of which had been eaten by some carrion-feeding
denizens of the desert. By the side of the carcass were also seen three
or four dead jackals, which they supposed the lion to have killed before
giving up the ghost himself.
On reaching the grove, they discovered a small pool of muddy water; and
with outstretched necks their horses rushed towards it. By its edge lay
the dead body of a buffalo; and near by a hyena in the same condition.
"Hold your horse!" exclaimed Hendrik, suddenly reining in his own.
"Perhaps the water is poisoned. See that buffalo and hyena,--and we
have just passed the other dead animals."
It required all their strength to hinder the horses from plunging into
the pool. Only by turning their heads in the opposite direction and
driving the spurs into their sides, did they succeed in keeping them
away from the water. Even then the suffering animals seemed determined
to rear backwards into the pool; and it was not without a struggle that
they were forced away from it.
The hunters now rode back to meet their companions and warn them off,
till the water in the pool should be tested by Swartboy, Congo, and the
Makololo.