Next morning, just after daybreak, Brace and I started upon our
excursion. A couple of sailors, friends of my companion, rowed us
ashore and then took back the boat I was not easy in my mind until I saw
the boat return without us; for I was still apprehensive that my tyrants
might repent of their generosity, hail the boat, and have me taken back.
I was not happy until I had put some bushes between myself and the
river's bank, that hid me from the view of the barque.
Then, indeed, did I feel happy--so much so that I danced over the ground
and flung my arms wildly around me--until my companion began to think I
had suddenly taking leave of my senses. If I felt happy at the prospect
of this temporary freedom, how much more was I joyed by the reality? I
cannot describe the peculiar sensations I experienced at that moment.
My feet once more rested on the welcome earth, after having for two long
months pressed only the slippery deck; once more I walked under the
shadow of noble trees, and around and above me, instead of stiff spars
and black tarred ropes, I beheld graceful boughs and bright-green
leaves. Instead of the wind drumming upon the sails, or the storm
screeching harshly through the taut rigging, I heard only a soft breeze,
singing playfully through the twigs, and bearing upon its wings the
melody of many a sweet songster. Far more than all--I was once more
free--free to think, and speak, and act--not one of which had I been
free to do since the day I stepped on board the _Pandora_.
No longer were those frowning faces before my eyes; no longer rang in my
ears those harsh voices--harsher from jests, ribald and blasphemous
utterings. No; I saw only the jovial face of my companion; I heard only
his cheerful voice--more cheerful because he too was in high spirits
with the prospect of our day's enjoyment.
We soon buried ourselves in the woods--far beyond hear and hail of the
barque--and then conversing agreeably with one another, we took our time
about it, and trudged leisurely along.
I have said that Ben was a bit of a sportsman. Of course then our
excursion was a hunting one, and we carried the implements of the
chase--though it would hardly be just to give this title to the weapons
we carried. Ben shouldered a ship's musket of very large dimensions--an
old piece of Queen Anne, with a flintlock and heavy iron ramrod--the
whole making a load that would have borne down a grenadier; but Ben was
strong enough to have carried a small cannon, and thought nothing of the
weight. For me he had provided a stout pistol--such as are used by
dragoons, and by sailors when boarding an enemy's ship--and these were
our weapons. For the rest we had about a pound of small shot, which my
companion carried in his tobacco-pouch, and a quantity of powder safely
corked in a bottle that had once held that favourite English beverage
"ginger beer," and the identity of whose stout form and grey complexion
could not be mistaken even in the forests of Africa. For wadding, we
had brought with us some oakum, well `flaxed' out, and thus armed and
equipped we were ready to do slaughter upon all birds and beasts that
should chance to come in our way.
We walked a good distance without seeing either one or the other, though
we met with many signs and traces of both. We were constantly within
hearing of birds, that sang or chattered among the trees, both above our
heads and around us. From the noises we knew we were within shot of
them, but we could not see a feather to guide us in taking aim. The
reason of this was, that the leaves were so thick upon the trees the
birds were hidden by them. No doubt they saw us well enough and no
doubt we might have seen them, had we known the exact spot in which to
look; for it is a well-known fact, that Nature has given to her wild
creatures such forms and colours as peculiarly adapt them to their
several haunts; as the brown of the hare, resembling the withered gorse
or fallow; the speckle of the partridge, to assimilate it to the
stubble, and many other examples that might be adduced. In tropic
climes this law of Nature is also carried out. The spotted leopard or
panther, though of bright colours that strike the eye when the animal is
viewed in its cage, are scarce discernible among the red and yellow
leaves that strew the ground in a forest; the parrots that frequent the
evergreen foliage are themselves of this colour; while others who haunt
more upon rocks, or the grey and brown trunks of giant trees, are
usually of more sombre hue--for there are rock-parrots both in Africa
and America, as well as those that dwell only among trees.
For this reason my companion and I went a long way without finding a
feather. It was not destined, however, that we should be altogether
unsuccessful in our day's sport. Our patience was at length rewarded by
the sight of a large dark-coloured bird, which we observed sitting very
quietly upon a tree that was dead and leafless, though still standing.
The bird was upon one of the lower branches, and apparently buried in
deep thought; for it sat without moving either head or neck, limb or
wing.
I stopped a little behind, and Ben advanced to obtain a shot. He
possessed some hunter craft; for, as he had told me, he had done a
little poaching in his younger days, and this skill now stood him in
stead. Keeping behind the trunks of the trees, and silently gliding
from one to another, he at length arrived within shot of the one on
which the bird was perched. The simple creature appeared to take no
heed of him, although part of his body was several times within sight of
it, and any English bird would have long before taken to flight. Ben
crept very near, in order to make sure of the shot. He concluded that
we were not likely to meet with many chances, and, as he was resolved
not to go back empty-handed, he was determined to be on the safe side
and not make a miss of it. But if the bird had been dead and stuffed it
could not have awaited him more composedly, and Ben crept on until he
was within about a cable's length from the dead tree. He then levelled
his "Queen Anne" and fired, and, since it was almost impossible for him
to have missed, the bird fell to the shot, as an Irishman might say,
"killed dead."
Of course we both ran forward and secured the prize; though neither of
us knew what sort of game we had got. It was a very large bird--quite
as big as a turkey--and bore considerable resemblance to one, being of a
red colour about the head and neck, and upon these parts having no
feathers.
Ben believed it was a turkey--a wild one, of course; but I could not
agree with him in this point, for I remembered having read that wild
turkeys are found only in America and Australia, and that there are none
in Africa; though there are bustards and floricans, and several other
kinds that bear considerable resemblance to turkeys, and hence are often
called by the name. It might be one of these we concluded, and,
therefore, just as good to eat as a turkey. So, with this idea, my
companion tied the huge bird across his shoulders, and, once more
loading his musket, we kept on.
We had not proceeded more than ten paces farther when we came upon the
carcass of an animal, badly torn and partially devoured. It looked like
it had been a deer, and Ben said that it was one; but, as I observed
that its horns were without antlers, and as I had also read that there
are no deer in Africa, except one species far north of where we were, I
told Ben that I thought, the carcass must be that of an antelope; for
these animals take the place of deer on the African continent, and
sailors, who know no better, call them deer. Ben had never heard of an
antelope, though he had of a gazelle; and if I had called it by this
name he might have agreed with me.
An "ant'lope," however, he knew nothing about; and as his hunter-pride
would have been offended by contradiction, I allowed him to persist in
calling it a deer.
"Ay, ay! it be a deer, Will," he said, emphatically, as we walked away
from it--"nothin' else, my boy. What a pity we can't scare up a livin'
'un--that 'ud be a nice cargo for our return-trip, w'udn't, my lad?"
"Yes," I answered, mechanically, without hearing what Ben said; for I
was at that moment thinking of something else.
We had observed how the carcass of the antelope--for antelope it was--
had been mangled and half eaten by some preying creature. Ben said it
was wolves or jackals. Likely one or more of these had made a meal upon
it; but there was one thing I had particularly noticed, and that was the
eyes. I should rather say the places where the eyes had been; for the
eyes themselves were quite gone, and the sockets cleaned out to the very
bottom. Now, I reasoned that no quadruped could do this. The holes
were too small even for a jackal to get his slender snout into. The
work must have been done by the beak of a bird; and what sort of bird.
Why, a vulture, of course!
Now, what kind of bird was Ben carrying upon his back? Beyond all doubt
it was a vulture! The locality in which we had found it, with the
carcass near at hand; its stupid behaviour in allowing the hunter to
approach so near; its general appearance, with the naked head and neck;
all these points confirmed my suspicion. I had read that such is the
habit of vultures; that they are so tame in some parts of the world,
that one can get near enough to knock them over with a stick; and this
is especially the case immediately after they have gorged themselves
with carrion. Now, the appearance of the carcass indicated that this
very bird had just finished its breakfast, and that would account for
its tameness. Beyond a doubt our game was a vulture!
I had arrived at this conviction, but disliked to declare it to my
companion, and walked on after him saying nothing. I thought I would
leave him to find it out for himself.
I had not long to wait for this event. Before we had advanced a hundred
paces, I saw Ben suddenly untie the cord by which the bird was fastened,
and, lifting it over his shoulders, hold the body up nearer his nose--
then, uttering a loud exclamation, he pitched the game as far from him
as he could, at the same time crying out:--
"Turkey, i'deed--dang it, Will, 'tan't no turkey. Shiver my timbers if
'tan't a stinking vulture!"