THE KRAAL.
The next day operations were continued. The angle made by the baobab
with the extremities of the base was measured, and the first triangle
solved. Two more stations were chosen to the right and left of the
meridian; one formed by a distinct mound, six miles away; the other,
marked out by a post about seven miles distant.
The triangulation went on uninterruptedly for a month, and by the 15th
of May the observers had advanced northwards 1°, having formed seven
triangles. During this first series of operations, the Colonel and
Strux were rarely together. The division of labour separated them, and
the circumstance of their daily work being several miles apart was a
guarantee against any dispute. Each evening they returned to their
several abodes, and although at intervals discussions arose about the
choice of stations, there was no serious altercation. Hence Zorn and
his friend were in hopes that the survey would proceed without any open
rupture.
After advancing 1° from the south, the observers found themselves in
the same parallel with Lattakoo, from which they were distant 35 miles
to the west.
Here a large kraal had lately been formed, and as it was a marked
halting-place, Sir John Murray proposed that they should stay for
several days. Zorn and Emery could take advantage of the rest, to take
the altitude of the sun; and Palander would employ himself in reducing
the measurements made at different points of sight to the uniform
level of the sea. Sir John himself wanted to be free from scientific
observations, that he might divert himself with his gun among the
fauna of the country. A kraal, as it is termed by the natives of South
Africa, is a kind of moving village, wandering from one pasturage
to another. It is an enclosure composed ordinarily of about thirty
habitations, and containing several hundred inhabitants. The kraal
now reached was formed by a group of more than sixty huts, enclosed
for protection from wild animals by a palisade of prickly aloes, and
situated on the banks of a small affluent of the Kuruman. The huts,
made of water-proof rush mats fastened to wooden beams, were like low
hives. The doorway, protected by a skin, was so small that it could
only be entered on hands and knees, and from this, the only aperture,
issued such dense wreaths of smoke as would make existence in these
abodes problematical to any but a Bochjesman or a Hottentot.
The whole population was roused by the arrival of the caravan. The
dogs, of which there was one for the protection of each cabin, barked
furiously, and about 200 warriors, armed with assagais, knives, and
clubs, and protected by their leathern shields, marched forward.
A few words from Mokoum to one of the chiefs soon dispelled all hostile
feeling, and the caravan obtained permission to encamp on the very
banks of the stream. The Bochjesmen did not even refuse to share the
pastures, which extended for miles away.
Mokoum having first given orders for the waggons to be placed in a
circle as usual, mounted his zebra, and set off in company with Sir
John Murray, who rode his accustomed horse. The hunters took their dogs
and rifles, showing their intention of attacking the wild beasts, and
went towards the woods.
"I hope, Mokoum," said Sir John, "that you are going to keep the
promise you made at the Morgheda Falls, that you would bring me into
the best sporting country in the world. But understand, I have not come
here for hares or foxes; I can get them at home. Before another hour--"
"Hour!" replied the bushman. "You are rather too fast. A little
patience, please. For myself, I am never patient except when hunting,
and then I make amends for all my impatience at other times. Don't you
know, Sir John, that the chase of large beasts is quite a science.
Here you must wait and watch. You must not step or even look too
quickly. For my part, I have laid in wait for days together for a
buffalo or gems-bok, and if I have had success at last, I have not
considered my trouble in vain."
"Very good," replied Sir John, "I can show you as much patience as you
can wish; but mind, the halt only lasts for three or four days, and we
must lose no time."
"There is something in that," said the bushman, so calmly that Emery
would not have recognized his companion of the Orange River; "we will
just kill that which comes first, Sir John, antelope or deer, gnu or
gazelle, any thing must do for hunters in a hurry."
"Antelope or gazelle!" cried Sir John, "why, what more could I ask, my
good fellow?"
"As long as your honour is satisfied I have nothing more to say," said
the bushman, somewhat ironically. "I thought that you would not let
me off with any thing less than a rhinoceros or two, or at least an
elephant."
"Any thing and any where," said Sir John, "we only waste time in
talking."
The horses were put to a hand-gallop, and the hunters advanced quickly
towards the forest. The plain rose with a gentle slope towards the
north-east. It was dotted here and there with shrubs in full bloom,
from which issued a viscous resin, transparent and odorous, of which
the colonists make a balm for wounds. In picturesque groups rose the
"nwanas," a kind of sycamore fig, whose trunks, leafless to the height
of 30 or 40 feet, supported a spreading parasol of verdure. Among the
foliage chattered swarms of screaming parrots, eagerly pecking the
sour figs. Farther on were mimosas with their yellow clusters, "silver
trees," shaking their silky tufts, and aloes with spikes so red that
they might pass for coral plants torn from the depths of the sea. The
ground, enamelled with amaryllis with their bluish foliage, was smooth
and easy for the horses, and in less than an hour after leaving the
kraal, the sportsmen reached the wood. For several miles extended a
forest of acacias, the entangled branches scarcely allowing a ray of
sunlight to penetrate to the ground below, which was encumbered by
brambles and long grass.
The hunters had little difficulty, however, in urging on both horse
and zebra, in spite of every obstacle, resting at the recurring
glades to examine the thickets around them. The first day was not
very favourable. In vain was the forest scoured; not a single beast
stirred, and Sir John's thoughts turned more than once to the plains of
Scotland, where a shot is rarely long delayed. Mokoum evinced neither
surprise nor vexation; to him it was not a hunt, but merely a rush
across the forest.
[Illustration: The Hunters.]
Towards six in the evening they had to think about returning. Sir
John was more vexed than he would allow. Rather than that he, the
renowned hunter, should return empty-handed, he resolved to shoot
whatever first came within range, and fortune seemed to favour him.
They were not more than three miles from the kraal when a hare (of the
species called "lepus rupestris") darted from a bush about 150 paces
in front of them. Sir John did not hesitate a moment, and sent his
explosive ball after the poor little animal.
The bushman gave a cry of indignation at such a ball being employed
for such an aim; but the Englishman, eager for his prey, galloped to
the spot where the victim fell. In vain! the only vestiges of the hare
were the bloody morsels on the ground. Whilst the dogs rummaged in the
brushwood, Sir John looked keenly about, and cried,--
"I am sure I hit it!"
"Rather too well," replied the bushman quietly.
And sure enough, the hare had been blown into countless fragments.
Sir John, greatly mortified, remounted his horse, and returned to camp,
without uttering another word.
The next day the bushman waited for Sir John Murray to propose another
expedition; but the Englishman applied himself for a time to his
scientific instruments. For pastime he watched the occupants of the
kraal as they practised with their bows, or played on the "gorah,"
an instrument composed of a piece of catgut stretched on a bow, and
kept in vibration by blowing through an ostrich feather. He remarked
that the women, while occupied in their domestic duties, smoked
"matokouané," that is, the unwholesome hemp-plant, a practice indulged
in by most of the natives. According to some travellers, this inhaling
of hemp increases physical strength to the damage of mental energy;
and, indeed, many of the Bochjesmen appeared stupefied from its effects.
At dawn, however, the following day, Sir John Murray was aroused by
the appearance of Mokoum, who said, "I think, sir, we may be fortunate
enough to-day to find something better than a hare."
Sir John, not heeding the satire, declared himself ready; and the two
hunters, accordingly, were off betimes. This time, Sir John, instead
of his formidable rifle, carried a simple gun of Goldwin's, as being
a more suitable weapon. True, there was a chance of meeting some
prowling beast from the forest; but he had the hare on his mind, and
would sooner use small shot against a lion than repeat an incident
unprecedented in the annals of sport.
Fortune, to-day, was more favourable to the hunters. They brought
down a couple of harrisbucks, a rare kind of black antelope, very
difficult to shoot. These were charming animals, four feet high, with
long diverging horns shaped like scimitars. The tips of their noses
were narrow; they had black hoofs, close soft hair, and pointed ears.
Their face and belly, white as snow, contrasted well with their black
back, over which fell a wavy mane. Hunters may well be proud of such
shots, for the harrisbuck has always been the _desideratum_ of the
Delegorgues, Vahlbergs, Cummings, and Baldwins, and it is one of the
finest specimens of the southern fauna.
But what made the Englishman's heart beat fastest, was Mokoum's showing
him certain marks on the edge of the thick underwood, not far from a
deep pool, surrounded by giant euphorbias, and whose surface was dotted
with sky-blue water-lilies.
"Come and lie in ambush here to-morrow, sir," said Mokoum, "and this
time you may bring your rifle. Look at these fresh footprints."
"What are they? Can they be an elephant's?" asked Sir John.
"Yes," replied Mokoum, "and, unless I am mistaken, of a male
full-grown."
Eagerly, then, was the engagement made for the following day. Sir
John's horse, as they returned, carried the harrisbucks. These fine
creatures, so rarely captured, excited the admiration of the whole
caravan, and all congratulated Sir John, except perhaps Matthew Strux,
who knew little of animals, except the Great Bear, the Centaur,
Pegasus, and other celestial fauna.
At four o'clock the next morning, the hunters, attended by their
dogs, were already hidden in the underwood. They had discovered by new
footmarks that the elephants came in a troop to drink at the pool.
Their grooved rifles carried explosive bullets. Silent and still, they
watched for about half-an-hour, when they observed a movement in the
grove, about fifty paces from the pool. Sir John seized his gun, but
the bushman made him a sign to restrain his impatience. Soon large
shadows appeared: the thickets rustled under the violence of some
pressure; the brushwood snapped and crackled, and the sound of a loud
breathing was perceptible through the branches. It was the herd of
elephants. Half-a-dozen gigantic creatures, almost as large as those
of India, advanced slowly towards the pool. The increasing daylight
allowed Sir John, struck with admiration, to notice especially a male
of enormous size. His colossal proportions appeared in the partial
light even greater than they really were. While his trunk was extended
above the underwood, with his curved tusks he struck the great stems,
which groaned under the shock. The bushman leant down close to Sir
John's ear, and whispered,--
"Will he suit you?"
Sir John made a sign of affirmation.
"Then," said Mokoum, "we will separate him from the rest."
At this instant, the elephants reached the edge of the pool, and their
spongy feet sank into the soft mud. They pumped up the water with
their trunks, and poured it into their throats with a loud gurgling.
The great male looked uneasily about him, and seemed to scent some
approaching danger.
Suddenly the bushman gave a peculiar cry. The dogs, barking furiously,
darted from concealment, and rushed towards the herd. At the same
moment, Mokoum, charging his companion to remain where he was, went off
on his zebra to intercept the elephant's retreat. The animal made no
attempt to take flight, and Sir John, with his finger on the lock of
his rifle, watched him closely. The brute beat the trees, and lashed
his tail furiously, showing signs not of uneasiness, but of anger. Now,
for the first time, catching sight of his enemy, he rushed upon him at
once.
Sir John was about sixty paces distant; and waiting till the elephant
came within forty paces, he aimed at his flank and fired. But a
movement of the horse made his aim unsteady, and the ball only entered
the soft flesh without meeting any obstacle sufficient to make it
explode.
The enraged beast increased its pace, which was rather a rapid walk
than a run, and would have soon distanced the horse. Sir John's horse
reared, and rushed from the thicket, his master unable to hold him in.
The elephant followed, ears erect, and bellowing like a trumpet Sir
John, thus carried away, held on to his horse tightly with his knees,
and endeavoured to slip a cartridge into the chamber of his rifle.
Still the elephant gained on him. They were soon beyond the wood, and
out on the plain. Sir John vigorously used his spurs, and the two dogs
rushed panting in the rear. The elephant was not two lengths behind.
Sir John could hear the hissing of his trunk, and almost feel his
strong breath. Every moment he expected to be dragged from his saddle
by the living lasso. All at once the horse sunk on his hind-quarters,
struck by the elephant on his haunches. He neighed, and sprung to one
side, thus saving Sir John. The elephant, unable to check his course,
passed on, and sweeping the ground with his trunk, caught up one of the
dogs, and shook it in the air with tremendous violence. No resource
remained except to re-enter the wood, and the horse's instinct carried
him thither. The elephant continued to give chase, brandishing the
unlucky dog, whose head he smashed against a sycamore as he rushed
into the forest. The horse darted into a dense thicket entangled with
prickly creepers, and stopped.
[Illustration: The Elephant and the Dog.]
Sir John, torn and bleeding, but not for an instant discomposed, turned
round, and shouldering his rifle, took aim at the elephant close to the
shoulder, through the network of creepers. The ball exploded as it
struck the bone. The animal staggered, and almost at the same moment a
second shot from the edge of the wood struck his left flank. He fell on
his knees near a little pool, half-hidden in the grass. There, pumping
up the water with his trunk, he began to wash his wounds, uttering
plaintive cries. The bushman now appeared, shouting, "He is ours! he is
ours!"
[Illustration: "He is ours! he is ours!"]
And in truth the animal was mortally wounded. He groaned piteously,
and breathed hard. His tail moved feebly, and his trunk, fed from the
pool of his blood, poured back a crimson stream on the surrounding
brushwood. Gradually failed his strength, and the great beast was dead.
Sir John Murray now emerged from the grove. He was half naked, little
of his hunting costume remaining but rags. But he felt as though he
could have given his very skin for this triumph.
"A glorious fellow!" he exclaimed, as he examined the carcase; "but
rather too big to carry home."
"True, sir," answered Mokoum; "we will cut him up on the spot, and
carry off the choice parts. Look at his magnificent tusks! Twenty-five
pounds a-piece at least! And ivory at five shillings a-pound will mount
up."
Thus talking, the hunter proceeded to cut up the animal. He took off
the tusks with his hatchet, and contented himself with the feet and
trunk, as choice morsels with which to regale the members of the
Commission. This operation took some time, and he and his companion did
not get back to camp before midday. The bushman had the elephant's feet
cooked according to the African method, that is, by burying them in a
hole previously heated, like an oven, with hot coals.
The delicacy was fully appreciated by all, not excepting the phlegmatic
Palander, and Sir John Murray received a hearty round of compliments.