1871-1875
There are few of us whose early aspirations and subsequent acts are not
influenced by literature. Some book comes just at the time of our life
when we are most impressionable and seems exactly to fit in with our
ideas and temperament. To this rule Selous was no exception, for he
often admitted in after-life that the one book which definitely sent him
to Africa and made him a pioneer and a hunter of Big Game, was Baldwin's
"African Hunting from Natal to the Zambesi," published in 1864. Example
in any line of adventure is recurrent, and especially so if the field of
adventure is not spoilt by what we may call excessive "civilization."
There have been, as it were, landmarks in the literature of African
sport and travel, each book being more or less cumulative in its effect.
Amongst books that mattered, perhaps the first was Burchell's
fully-illustrated folio and the lesser writings of an English officer
who hunted in the Orange Free State late in the eighteenth and early in
the nineteenth century. The works of these men incited Captain
Cornwallis Harris to undertake an extensive trip as far as the Limpopo.
He was a capable artist and an excellent writer, and published a
magnificent folio describing his adventures and the natural history of
the large mammals, which still commands a high price. He at once
inspired many hunters to follow in his footsteps, and several of these,
such as Roualeyn Gordon Cumming, William Cotton Oswell, Sir Francis
Galton, and C. J. Anderson, wrote either books of great value or
portions of standard works. Gordon Cumming did an immense amount of
shooting--far too much most people now think--but his volume, written in
the romantic British style, is one that will always remain a classic in
the world of sporting literature. His tales of the game he saw or what
he killed were not always accepted as true facts, but from all accounts,
gathered from independent sources, it is now admitted that Gordon
Cumming was a fearless hunter and did in the main accomplish all the
principal exploits to which he laid claim.
"Lake Ngami, or Explorations in South-Western Africa," by Charles John
Anderson, published in 1856, with some admirable early illustrations by
Wolf, gives an account of the author's four years' wanderings (partly
with Francis Galton) in the Western Wilderness, and is a truthful and
excellent record of the Great Game in these districts at that time.
Galton also published "Tropical Africa," but did not give much space to
sport or natural history. Oswell, a great hunter and companion of
Livingstone in many of his travels, also wrote in the last days of his
life an admirable contribution to the "Badminton Library," which
embodied an account of his life and adventures amongst the Great Game of
South Africa in the forties. It is well illustrated by Wolf, the
greatest painter of birds and mammals who ever lived. Other men of his
date who were excellent hunters, who left no records of their lives,
were Vardon, General Sir Thomas Steele, and Thomas Baines, who, without
prejudice, did perhaps as much exploration, geographical work, painting,
and hunting as any Afrikander of his time. Baines, I believe, really
discovered the Falls of the Zambesi before Livingstone visited them, and
no adequate tribute to the work of this remarkable man has ever
appeared. The amount of maps he prepared of out-of-the-way corners of
South Africa from the Zambesi northwards, was very great and his work
was only known to the pioneers like Livingstone, Oswell, Selous and
others who followed after him and made use of his industry. Baines, too,
though almost uneducated, was a very capable artist and I think I must
have seen at least two hundred of his paintings in oil. He liked to
depict landscapes and wild animals. Whilst those of the latter were not
above criticism, his views of the rivers, lakes, forests, mountains, and
plains of the Free State, swarming with game, are a truthful record of
the days that are no more, and will doubtless live in South African
history when more ambitious, technically correct works are forgotten.[4]
After these sportsmen and writers came William Charles Baldwin, who
wandered, primarily with the object of hunting elephants, from Zululand
to the Zambesi and west to Lake Ngami between the years 1852 and 1860.
His book "African Hunting and Adventure" was published in 1863, and was
beautifully illustrated by Wolf and Zwecker. It was an immediate success
and caused many, like Selous, to leave the ways of civilization and seek
adventure in the wilds. Baldwin was an excellent and fearless rider (he
rode in a steeplechase when he was seventy) and a good shot, and the
accounts of his adventures could hardly have failed to make their
impress on the minds of young men of the right kind, but, as he admits,
the elephants were on the wane even in his day (he never succeeded in
hunting in the main haunts in Matabeleland), so future travellers had to
exploit new fields.
On the 4th of September, 1871, Selous landed at Algoa Bay with L400 in
his pocket. He went there determined to make his way into the interior
and to lead the free life of the hunter as described by Gordon Cumming,
Baldwin, and others. First he decided to go to the Diamond Fields, and
left Port Elizabeth on September 6th with a young transport rider named
Reuben Thomas, who conveyed him and his baggage for the sum of eight
pounds. After a slow journey of nearly two months he reached his
destination. On the road by hunting hard he had managed to kill "one
bushbuck ram, one duiker, one springbuck, one klipspringer, and eight
grey and red roebucks, all of which I carried on my own shoulders to the
waggons."
Most unfortunately, however, a valuable double breechloading rifle with
which he had been shooting was stolen on the day he reached Kimberley.
Next day he bought a horse and rode over to Pniel. There he met Mr.
Arthur Lang, and on October 31st went with him on a trading trip through
Griqualand, passing down the Vaal and Orange rivers. He found the
Bechuanas an industrious race, "but they are the stingiest, most
begging, grasping, and disagreeable set of people that it is possible to
imagine." He was much disappointed to find the country so bare of game.
"The great drawback was that there was no game whatever, not even
springbucks, the Kafirs having hunted everything into the far interior,
so that now there is more game within five miles of Cape Town than here,
where we were more than 600 miles up country." The party returned to the
Diamond Fields at the end of March and sold off their produce--cattle,
goats, and ostrich feathers at a profit of about L100.
Selous then set about his preparations for a journey into the far
interior. From a trader he purchased a waggon, a span of young oxen, and
five horses. A young fellow named Dorehill and a Mr. Sadlier then agreed
to accompany him. The whole party seems to have been very badly armed
with indifferent weapons. At the end of April, 1872, Selous and his two
friends trekked north and only got as far as Kuruman, a delay of a
fortnight being caused through the horses running away. Here Selous met
Mr. William Williams, an experienced trader and hunter, from whom he
purchased two unprepossessing-looking large-bore elephant guns as used
by the Boer native hunters. Cheap as these guns were, about six pounds
a-piece and using only common trade gunpowder, they were most effective
weapons, for in three seasons with them (1872-1874) Selous killed
seventy-eight elephants, all but one of which he shot whilst hunting on
foot. He used to load them whilst running at full speed by simply diving
his hand into a leather bag of powder slung at his side. "They kicked
most frightfully, and in my case the punishment I received from these
guns has affected my nerves to such an extent as to have materially
influenced my shooting ever since, and I am heartily sorry I ever had
anything to do with them."
After a trying trek the party arrived at Secheli's in twenty days
through more or less waterless country, but just before reaching these
kraals an accident happened which might easily have cost Selous and
Dorehill their lives. Selous was taking some cartridges from a box on
the side of the waggon, in which was about a pound of loose gunpowder,
when Dorehill came up and dropped some ashes from his pipe into the box.
An immediate explosion followed and both were badly burnt. Sadlier,
however, rose to the emergency and "at once rubbed a mixture of oil and
salt into our skinless faces; it was not a pleasant process." After a
visit to Secheli, who was a most completely civilized Kafir, Selous and
his friends moved northward on the 28th June, with Frank Mandy, who was
about to trade in the Matabele country. On the road to Boatlanarma they
experienced great difficulties and were once three days and three nights
without water. About the middle of August they left Bamangwato, where
Selous purchased a salted horse. By exchanging his new waggon for a
smaller second-hand one, a trade rifle and the horse itself valued at
L75, he made a deal with a shrewd but uneducated Scotchman named Peter
Skinner. Of course the new purchase ran away at the first opportunity,
which delayed the party for another week. Near Pelatsi Selous had his
first experience of real African hardship, and his subsequent account of
being lost in the bush for four days and three nights, without covering
except his shirt and breeches and without food or drink, is one of the
most thrilling he ever wrote.[5]
Selous and his comrades here met their first giraffes and proceeded to
give chase.
"After a time the giraffes separated, and suffice it to say
that, at the end of an hour or so, I found myself lying on my
back, with my right leg nearly broken, by coming violently into
contact with the trunk of a tree; and, on getting up and
remounting my horse, not only were the giraffes out of sight,
but nowhere could I see either of my two companions. Though, of
course, my inexperience contributed much to the unsuccessful
issue of this, my first giraffe hunt, yet I cannot help thinking
that my horse also had a good deal to do with it, for, having
been bred in the open plains of the Transvaal Republic, he was
quite at sea in the thick forests of the interior; and if, when
going at full gallop through a thick wood, you intend to pass on
one side of a tree, but your horse, being of a different
opinion, swerves suddenly and goes to the other, it is awkward,
to say the least of it.
"My first object was to rejoin my companions; so, not having
heard a shot, and imagining they must by this time have given up
chasing the giraffes, I fired as a signal, and at once heard a
shot in answer far to my right, and rode in that direction.
After riding some distance I again pulled up, and shouted with
all my might, and then, not hearing anything, fired another
signal shot, but without effect. As my horse was very tired, I
now off-saddled for a short time and then fired a third shot,
and listened intently for an answer, but all was silent as the
grave; so, as the sun was now low, I saddled up again and struck
a line for the waggon road, thinking my friends had already done
the same thing. In this way I rode on at a slow pace, for my
horse was tired and thirsty, keeping steadily in one direction
till the sun, sinking lower and lower, at last disappeared
altogether. I expected I should have reached the road before
this, and, attributing my not doing so to the fact of the path
having taken a turn to the right, still kept on till twilight
had given place to moonlight--a fine bright moonlight, indeed,
for it wanted but two nights to the full, but, under the
circumstances, perhaps a trifle cold and cheerless. Still,
thinking I must be close to the road, I kept on for another
couple of hours or so, when, it being intensely cold, I resolved
to try and light a fire, and pass the night where I was and ride
on again early the following morning. Having no matches, I had
to make use of my cartridges, of which I had only three
remaining, in endeavouring to get a light. Breaking one of these
open, I rubbed some of the powder well into a bit of linen torn
from my shirt, slightly wetted, and, putting it into the muzzle
of the rifle, ignited it with the cap and a little powder left
in the bottom of the cartridge. So far well and good, but this
was, unfortunately, almost as far as I could get; for, though I
managed to induce some grass to smoulder, I couldn't for the
life of me make it flare, and soon had the mortification of
finding myself, after two more unsuccessful attempts, just as
cold and, hungry as before, and minus my three cartridges to
boot. Were the same circumstances to occur again, no doubt
everything would be very different; but at that time I was quite
a tyro in all forest lore. It was now piercingly cold, though
during the day the sun had been as hot as at midsummer in
England--regular South African fashion. Still, I thought it
better to pass the night where I was; so, tying my horse to a
tree, I cut a little grass with my pocket knife to lie upon, and
turned in. My entire clothing consisted of a hat, shirt, pair of
trousers, and veldt shoes, as I had ridden away from the waggon
without my coat. However, lying on my back, with my felt hat for
a pillow, I put the saddle over my chest and closed my eyes in
the vain hope that I should soon fall asleep and forget my
cares; vain indeed, for the bitter cold crept in gradually and
stealthily from my feet upwards, till I was soon shivering from
head to foot as if my very life depended on it. After having
worked hard at this unpleasant exercise for a couple of hours or
more, watching the moon all the time, and cursing its tardy
pace, I could stand it no longer; so, getting up with
difficulty--for I was regularly stiffened by the cold--I ran
backwards and forwards to a tree at a short distance until I was
again warm, when I once more lay down; and in this manner the
weary hours wore away till day dawned. During the night a couple
of hyenas passed close to me, enlivening the silence with their
dismal howlings. I have often thought since that they must have
been on their way to drink, perhaps at some pit or spring not
far off; how I wished that I had known where! I will take this
opportunity of saying that the howl of the African hyena is
about the most mournful and weird-like sound in nature, being a
sort of prolonged groan, rising in cadence till it ends in a
shriek; they only laugh when enjoying a good feed.
"At first dawn of day I once more saddled up and rode in the
same direction as before. My poor horse was so tired and thirsty
that he would only go at a very slow pace; so I didn't make
much progress. On coming to a high tree I stopped and climbed up
it, and looked about me to try and recognize some landmark. On
every side the country was covered with forest, and in the
distance were several low ranges of hills, yet nothing seemed
familiar to my eye. Right ahead, in the direction in which I had
been riding, appeared a line of densely wooded hills, with one
single kopje standing alone just in front of them, and thither I
determined to ride. On the way I passed three beautiful
gemsbuck, which allowed me to come quite close to them, though
they are usually very wild; but they had nothing to fear from
me, as I had no cartridges, and so could do nothing more than
admire them. Thus I rode on and on, until the idea occurred to
me that I must have ridden across the road (a mere narrow track)
without noticing it in the moonlight, as I had constantly been
star-gazing after the sun went down, so as to guide my course by
the position of the Southern Cross. After a time, I at last felt
so sure that this was the case, that I turned my horse's head to
the right-about, and rode back again in the direction from which
I had just come."
He was now hopelessly lost but did not give way to despair, as so many
in a similar position have done. Nothing but a level sea of forest
surrounded him, so he turned his jaded horse to the setting sun in the
west in the hope of again striking the road. After another night in the
wilderness he awoke to find his horse gone. Far to the south-west was a
line of hills and after walking without food or water till the moon
rose, he reached the mountains. At sunrise he topped the crest of the
range, hoping to see the maize fields of Bamangwato, but saw nothing.
Worn out with thirst, fatigue, and hunger he started again at sunrise
and at last at sundown he met two Kafirs who eventually took him to
their kraal and gave him water and milk.
"The next morning, as soon as it was light, accompanied by the
Kafir who carried my rifle, I made a start, and, though very
tired and worn out from privation, managed to reach the waggons
late in the afternoon, after an absence of five days and four
nights. How I enjoyed the meal that was hastily prepared for
me, and how delightful it was to keep out the bitter cold with a
couple of good blankets, I will leave the reader to conjecture."
Of course, he lost his valuable salted horse, which although hobbled,
found its way back to Bamangwato. But Selous could never claim it as he
had sold his right to it to a Mr. Elstob at Tati. At Goqui he saw his
first lions. Unfortunately he had fired a shot at two lionesses running
away, when a fine lion with dark coloured mane stood up and offered him
a splendid shot at 80 yards, but his rifle was empty, and as he had no
dogs to follow the lions when they had vanished, his first encounter
with lions gave him much disappointment. At the end of August they
reached Tati, and on leaving this place and passing the Ramaqueban river
the following day, Selous says: "Here I first saw a sable antelope, one
of the handsomest animals in the world," and anyone, indeed, who sees
this magnificent creature for the first time never forgets it.
Next day he reached Minyama's kraal, the frontier outpost of the
Matabele country, where most of the inhabitants were Makalakas in native
dress. The country now became beautiful and park-like in character, and
this extends to Bulawayo, the town founded by Lobengula in 1870, and
where the sable king dwelt. On receipt of messages announcing their
arrival, the king arrived, dressed in a greasy shirt, a costume which
shortly afterwards he discarded for native dress. "He asked me what I
had come to do," writes Selous. "I said I had come to hunt elephants,
upon which he burst out laughing, and said, 'Was it not steinbucks' (a
diminutive species of antelope) 'that you came to hunt? Why, you're only
a boy.' I replied that, although a boy, I nevertheless wished to hunt
elephants and asked his permission to do so, upon which he made some
further disparaging remarks regarding my youthful appearance, and then
rose to go without giving me any answer."
But Selous was persistent and again begged for permission. "This time he
asked me whether I had ever seen an elephant, and upon my saying no,
answered, 'Oh, they will soon drive you out of the country, but you may
go and see what you can do!'" When Selous asked him where he might go,
Lobengula replied impatiently, "Oh, you may go wherever you like, you
are only a boy."
It was about this time that the famous Boer elephant hunter, Jan
Viljoen, arrived at Bulawayo and offered to take Sadlier and Selous to
his waggons on the River Gwenia to join his hunting party. This was an
opportunity not to be lost. In eight days the party, after crossing the
Longwe, Sangwe, Shangani, and Gwelo, reached the Gwenia and found the
patriarchal encampment of the Boer elephant hunters. The Boers then, as
now, travelled even into the far interior with wives, children, cows,
sheep, goats, and fowls, and established a "stand-place" whilst the men
hunted in all directions, being absent for a week to a month at a time.
A slight accident now prevented Selous from going in on foot with the
Viljoens to hunt in the "fly." He went off at the Boer's request to buy
some corn and on the way back, in passing some Griqua waggons at Jomani,
he saw for the first time a Hottentot named Cigar, with whom later he
became better acquainted.
Cigar was an experienced hunter and as it seemed now hopeless to follow
Viljoen he decided to go in and hunt with the Hottentot. It may be
gathered how roughly they lived from Selous' own words: "Having now run
through all my supplies of coffee, tea, sugar, and meal, we had nothing
in the provision line but Kafir corn and meat of the animals we shot,
washed down by cold water."
Cigar--besides two Kafirs who were shooting for him, and carried their
own guns and a supply of ammunition--had only three spare boys who
carried his blankets, powder, Kafir corn, and a supply of fresh meat. He
himself carried his own rifle, a heavy old four-bore muzzle-loader. "As
for me," says Selous, "having had to leave two of my Kafirs to look
after my horses and oxen, I had but one youngster with me, who carried
my blanket and spare ammunition, whilst I shouldered my own old
four-bore muzzle-loader, and carried besides a leather bag filled with
powder, and a pouch containing twenty four-ounce round bullets. Though
this was hardly doing the thing _en grand seigneur_, I was young and
enthusiastic in those days and trudged along under the now intense heat
with a light heart."
It must be remembered that at this time nearly all the old Boer and
English elephant-hunters, such as men like Piet Schwarz, William
Finaughty, Hartley, the Jennings family, J. Giffard, T. Leask, and H.
Biles, had given up the game of elephant-hunting when horses could be no
longer used and the elephants themselves must be pursued on foot in the
"fly." Only George Wood, Jan Viljoen,[6] and the greatest hunter of all
in South Africa, Petrus Jacobs, still pursued the elephant, but the
difficulty, danger, distance, and scarcity of elephant haunts were now
so defined and the results so small that none save the very hardiest
were able to follow them.
At this time (1873) Piet Jacobs was undoubtedly the most famous hunter
in South Africa. During a long life, most of which was spent in the
Mashuna and Matabele country, he is supposed to have shot between 400
and 500 bull elephants, mostly killed by hunting them from horseback,
but even after as an old man he killed many on foot in the "fly"
country. Unlike most Boers, he constantly attacked lions whenever he had
the opportunity, and Selous considers that he shot "more lions than any
man that ever lived." His usual method in hunting these animals was, if
the first shot missed, to loose three or four strong "Boer" dogs, which
quickly ran the lion to bay. Then, as a rule, it was easily killed. One
day, however, in 1873, on the Umniati river he was terribly mauled by a
lion that charged after being bayed by his three dogs. His shot at the
charging lion missed, and he was thrown to the ground and severely
bitten on the thigh, left arm, and hand. The dogs, however, now came up
and saved his life, but it was a long time before he recovered. He said
that, unlike the experience of Dr. Livingstone, the bites of the lion
were extremely painful, at which Selous humorously remarks that the
absence of suffering in such a case is an especial mercy "which
Providence does not extend beyond ministers of the Gospel."
Of William Finaughty, the greatest of the English elephant-hunters,
neither Selous nor any contemporary writer gives any particulars, so I
am indebted to Mr. G. L. Harrison, an American gentleman, for his
"Recollections of William Finaughty," which was privately printed in
1916. He met Finaughty, who was then a very slight old man, with a
wonderful memory and much weakened by attacks of fever, in 1913.
Finaughty was one of the first white men to hunt elephants in
Matabeleland, and his activities extended from 1864 to 1875, when he
gave up serious hunting because he could no longer pursue them on
horseback.
Finaughty describes himself as a harum-scarum youth who left Grahamstown
at the age of twenty-one early in 1864. He passed north through the Free
State, then swarming with tens of thousands of black wildebeest,
blesbok, springbok, quagga, blue wildebeest, and ostrich, and made his
way to Matabeleland, then ruled by Mzilikatse, a brother of the Zulu
king Chaka. After sport with lion and buffalo on the road, for all game,
including elephants, were abundant at this time, he reached Tati. Old
Mzilikatse was then a physical wreck but treated the Englishman well,
although at times he had violent outbursts of passion. Finaughty was
witness of a great dance in which 2500 warriors took part, and on which
occasion 540 oxen were slaughtered. Horse-sickness was then rife in the
country and the party lost fourteen horses out of seventeen within
thirty hours. In this, his first trip, Finaughty only killed three
elephants, which he attributed to lack of experience. On his second trip
in 1865 he did better, whilst a third in 1866 was made purely for
trading, yet he shot eight elephants and then decided to become a hunter
only.
On the fourth trip he shot nineteen elephants, but in 1868, on the
Umbila, he states that he had "the two finest months of my life. In all
I shot 95 elephants, the ivory weighing 5000 lbs."
One day he had a narrow escape in the sandy bed of the Sweswe river. He
had wounded an old bull when he fired at it again as it was on the point
of charging. His boy had put in two charges and the hunter was nearly
knocked out of the saddle by the recoil. The elephant then charged and
got right on the top of him, but, at the moment when death seemed
imminent, the elephant's shoulder-bone broke and he was helpless--thus
Finaughty escaped. In those days the elephants did not know the meaning
of gunfire. Finaughty one day bagged six bulls in a river bed, as they
did not run on the shots being fired.
In 1869 he went into the elephant country one hundred miles beyond the
Tuli and remained there three years, sending out his ivory and receiving
fresh provisions and ammunition on the return of his waggons. In five
months he killed fifty-three elephants yielding 3000 lbs. of ivory. In
one day he killed five bulls and five cows, which was his "record" bag
for one day. In the two following years he killed a large number of
elephants, but does not state the precise number. In 1870 he again
hunted elephants without giving particulars.
From 1870 to 1874 Finaughty remained at Shoshong as a trader and
prospered.
It is interesting to note that Finaughty, like many experienced hunters,
does not agree with Selous in considering the lion the most dangerous of
all African game. He repeatedly says that buffalo-hunting is the most
risky of all forms of hunting.[7] "Far better," he says, "follow up a
wounded lion than a wounded buffalo, for the latter is the fiercest and
most cunning animal to be found in Africa." He himself had many narrow
escapes from buffaloes and only one or two unpleasant incidents with
lions. "No," he remarks again, "a man who is out after buffalo must
shoot to kill and not to wound, and if he fails to bring his quarry down
he should on no account venture to follow up unless in open country. He
should never follow a buffalo into cover, unless he is accompanied by a
number of good dogs. Many a good man has lost his life through neglect
of this precaution." Finaughty lived in the Transvaal from 1883 to 1887,
and then moved to Johannesburg in the early days of the "boom." In the
nineties he returned to Matabeleland to spend the rest of his days on
his farm near Bulawayo. He was still alive in 1914.
What would, however, have been only toil and hardship to older men was
small discomfort to a tough young fellow like Selous, who was now in his
natural element. Almost at once he and Cigar tracked and killed a grand
old bull which carried tusks of 61 and 58 lbs. On the following days
they killed six elephants, Cigar accounting for four. Selous here pays a
high tribute to the good qualities of his dusky companion. "Cigar was a
slight-built, active Hottentot, possessed of wonderful powers of
endurance, and a very good game shot, though a bad marksman at a target.
These qualities, added to lots of pluck, made him a most successful
elephant-hunter; and for foot hunting in the 'fly' country I do not
think I could have had a more skilful preceptor; for although only an
uneducated Hottentot--once a jockey at Grahamstown--he continually
allowed me to have the first shot, whilst the elephants were still
standing--a great advantage to give me--and never tried in any way to
over-reach me or claim animals that I had shot, as is so often done by
Boer hunters. Strangely enough, Cigar told me, when the celebrated
hunter, Mr. William Finaughty, first took him after elephants on
horseback, he had such dreadful fear of the huge beasts that, after
getting nearly caught by one, and never being able to kill any, he
begged his master to let him remain at the waggons. When I knew him this
fear must have worn off, and I have never since seen his equal as a foot
hunter." Selous did very well with Cigar, getting 450 lbs. of ivory
which he had shot himself, and another 1200 lbs. which he had traded
with the natives, thus making a clear profit of L300. When he saw the
king, he told him that the elephants had not driven him out of the
country, but that he had killed several, to which Lobengula replied,
"Why, you're a man; when are you going to take a wife?" and suggested
that he should court one at once.
Selous' friends had now all left the country, but he himself decided to
remain in Matabeleland to be ready to hunt in the following year with
George Wood. As usual, however, Lobengula took months to give his
permission, so that it was not until the 15th June, 1873, that he gave
permission to the two hunters to make a start. Even then he would not
allow them to go to the Mashuna country and stated that they must hunt
to the westward of the river Gwai.
A fortnight after leaving Bulawayo Selous and Wood reached Linquasi,
where they began to hunt, and two days later they killed two fine bull
elephants. Here they established their main hunting-camp and made raids
into the "fly." During this season of four months Selous killed
forty-two elephants and George Wood fifty. They also accounted for a
good many rhinoceros and buffalo. Their main hunting veldt was the "fly"
region between the rivers Zambesi and Gwai. It was a broken country full
of hills, "kloofs," dense bush and park-like opens. This area was
formerly inhabited by the Makalakas, but these had been driven across
the Zambesi by raiding Matabele. These regions were consequently a great
game preserve and full of elephant, black and white rhinoceros, buffalo,
zebra, sable, roan, koodoo, impala, reedbuck, klipspringer, grysbok,
bushbuck, waterbuck, and other antelopes. In "A Hunter's Wanderings"
Selous gives many interesting accounts of his hunts after elephants, but
perhaps his best is the splendid narrative of his great day, of which I
am permitted to give his own description.[8]
"As soon as the day dawned, we sent a couple of Kafirs down to
the water to see if any elephants had been there, and on their
return in a quarter of an hour with the joyful tidings that a
fine troop of bulls had drunk during the night, we at once
started in pursuit. We found they had come down from the
right-hand side, and returned on their own spoor, feeding along
nicely as they went, so that we were in great hopes of
overtaking them without much difficulty. Our confidence,
however, we soon found was misplaced, for after a time they had
ceased to feed, and, turning back towards the N.E., had taken to
a path, along which they had walked in single file and at a
quick pace, as if making for some stronghold in the hills. Hour
after hour we trudged on, over rugged stony hills, and across
open grassy valleys, scattered over which grew clumps of the
soft-leaved machabel trees, or rather bushes; but, though the
leaves and bark of this tree form a favourite food of elephants,
those we were pursuing had turned neither to the right nor to
the left to pluck a single frond.
"After midday, the aspect of the country changed, and we entered
upon a series of ravines covered with dense, scrubby bush.
Unfortunately the grass here had been burnt off, but for which
circumstance the elephants, I feel sure, would have halted for
their midday sleep. In one of these thickets we ran on to three
black rhinoceroses (_R. bicornis_) lying asleep. When we were
abreast of them they got our wind, and, jumping up, rushed close
past the head of our line, snorting vigorously. It was a family
party, consisting of a bull, a cow, and a full-grown calf; they
passed so near that I threw at them the thick stick which I used
for a ramrod, and overshot the mark, it falling beyond them.
"Shortly after this incident, we lost the spoor in some very
hard, stony ground, and had some trouble in recovering it, as
the Kafirs, being exhausted with the intense heat, and thinking
we should not catch the elephants, had lost heart and would not
exert themselves, hoping that we would give up the pursuit. By
dint of a little care and perseverance, however, we succeeded,
and after a time again entered upon a more open country. To cut
a long story short, I suppose it must have been about two hours
before sundown when we came to a large tree, from which the
elephants had only just moved on. At first we thought they must
have got our wind and run, but on examination we found they had
only walked quietly on. We put down the water-calabashes and
axes, and the Kafirs took off their raw-hide sandals, and then
we again, quickly but cautiously, followed on the spoor. It was
perhaps five minutes later when we at last sighted them, seven
in number, and all large, full-grown bulls. W. and I walked up
to within thirty yards or so, and fired almost simultaneously;
he at one standing broadside, and I at another facing me. Our
Hottentot boy also fired, and, as the animals turned, a volley
was given by our Kafirs, about ten of whom carried guns. Not an
elephant, however, seemed any the worse, and they went away at a
great pace. Judging from the lie of the land ahead that they
would turn to the right, I made a cut with my two gun-bearers,
whilst W. kept in their wake. Fortune favoured me, for they
turned just as I had expected, and I got a splendid broadside
shot as they passed along the farther side of a little gully not
forty yards off. The Kafir having, as he ran, reloaded the gun
which I had already discharged and on which I placed most
dependence, I fired with it at the foremost elephant, an
enormous animal with long white tusks, when he was exactly
opposite to me. My boy had put in the powder with his hand, and
must have overloaded it, for the recoil knocked me down, and the
gun itself flew out of my hands. Owing to this, I lost a little
time, for, when I got hold of my second gun, the elephants had
turned back again (excepting the one just hit) towards W. and
the Kafirs. However, I gave another a bullet behind the big ribs
as he was running obliquely away from me. The first, which I had
hit right in the middle of the shoulder, was now walking very
slowly up a steep hill, looking as though he were going to fall
every instant; but, nevertheless (as until an elephant is
actually dead, there is no knowing how far he may go), I
determined to finish him before returning to the others. On
reaching the top of the hill, and hearing me coming on not a
dozen yards behind him, the huge beast wheeled round, and,
raising his gigantic ears, looked ruefully towards me. Poor
beast, he was doubtless too far gone to charge, and, on
receiving another ball in the chest, he stepped slowly
backwards, and then sinking on to his haunches, threw his trunk
high into the air and rolled over on his side, dead.
[Illustration: Selous as a Young Man, in Hunting Costume.]
"During this time, the remainder of the elephants, harried and
bewildered by the continuous firing of W. and our little army of
native hunters, had come round in a circle, and I saw the four
that still remained (for, besides the one I had killed, two more
were down) coming along in single file, at the long, quick half
run, half walk, into which these animals settle after their
first rush. I at once ran obliquely towards them; but, before I
could get near, one more first lagged behind, and then fell
heavily to the ground, so that there were but three remaining.
W., being blown, had been left behind; but most of the Kafirs
were still to the fore, firing away as fast as they could load,
from both sides. It was astonishing what bad shooting they made;
their bullets kept continually striking up the ground all round
the elephants, sometimes in front of their trunks, sometimes
behind them, and ever and anon one would come whistling high
overhead. It was in vain that I shouted to them to leave off
firing and let me shoot; their blood was up, and blaze away they
would.
"Just as I was getting well up alongside, the elephants crossed
a little gully, and entered a small patch of scrubby bush, on
the slope of the hill beyond, in the shelter of which they at
once stopped and faced about, giving me a splendid chance. I had
just emptied both my guns, hitting one animal full in the chest,
and another, that was standing broadside to me, in the shoulder,
when loud lamentations and cries of 'Mai-ai!' 'Mai mamo!' burst
from my Kafir followers close behind. At the same time my two
gun-carriers, throwing down their guns, ran backwards, clapping
their hands, and shouting like the rest. Turning hastily round,
I saw a Kafir stretched upon the earth, his companions sitting
round him, wailing and clapping their hands, and at once
comprehended what had occurred. The poor fellow who lay upon the
ground had fired at the elephants, from about thirty yards
behind myself, and then ran up an ant-hill, just as another
Kafir, who preferred to keep at a safer distance, discharged a
random shot, which struck poor Mendose just between the
shoulder-blades, the bullet coming out on the right breast. I
ran up at once to see what could be done, but all human aid was
vain--the poor fellow was dead. At this moment two more shots
fell close behind, and a minute or two afterwards W. and our
Hottentot boy John came up. One of the three elephants had
fallen after my last shot, close at hand, and a second, sorely
wounded, had walked back right on to W. and John, who were
following on the spoor; and the two shots I had just heard had
sealed his fate. The third, however, and only surviving one out
of the original seven, had made good his escape during the
confusion, which he never would have done had it not been for
the untimely death of Mendose.
"The sun was now close down upon the western skyline, and little
time was to be lost. The Kafirs still continued to shout and
cry, seeming utterly paralysed, and I began to think that they
were possessed of more sympathetic feelings than I had ever
given them credit for. However, on being asked whether they
wished to leave the body for the hyenas, they roused themselves.
As luck would have it, on the side of the very ant-hill on which
the poor fellow had met his death was a large deep hole,
excavated probably by an anteater, but now untenanted. Into this
rude grave, with a Kafir needle to pick the thorns out of his
feet, and his assegais with which to defend himself on his
journey to the next world, we put the body, and then firmly
blocked up the entrance with large stones, to keep the prowling
hyenas from exhuming it. Poor Mendose! he was an obedient,
willing servant, and by far the best shot of all our native
hunters.
"The first thing to be done now was to cut some meat from one of
the elephants, and then get down to a pool of water which we had
passed during the hunt, and make a 'skerm' for the night. On
reaching the nearest carcase, which proved to be in fair
condition, I was much surprised to see my Kafirs throw aside
every semblance of grief, and fight and quarrel over pieces of
fat and other titbits in their usual manner. Even the fellow who
had had the misfortune to shoot his comrade, though he kept
asserting that 'his heart was dead,' was quite as eager as the
rest. In the evening they laughed and chatted and sang as usual,
ate most hearty suppers, and indeed seemed as if all memory of
the tragedy which had occurred but a few hours before, and which
at the time had seemed to affect them so deeply, had passed from
their minds.
"Thus ended the best day's hunting, as regards weight of ivory,
at which I had ever assisted. The next day we set the Kafirs to
work with three American axes, and before nightfall the twelve
tusks (not one of which was broken) were lying side by side,
forming one of the finest trophies a sportsman's heart could
desire to look upon. The largest pair of tusks weighed 57 lbs.
apiece, and the smallest 29 lbs. and 31 lbs. respectively--a
very fair lot of bull ivory."
A few days later he had an interesting day in the valley of the
Dett and experienced something of the difficulties and dangers
of the hunter's life.[9]
"About an hour later, we came up with them, standing some fifty
yards away, on our right, under a clump of camel-thorn trees,
and in a rather open place compared with the general density of
the surrounding jungle. Besides the small troop of bulls we had
followed, and which were nearest to us, there was a very large
herd of cows standing just beyond, which, as we had not crossed
their spoor, had probably drunk at Sikumi--a water-hole not many
miles distant--and come to this rendezvous from the other side.
"Taking a hasty gulp of water, we at once walked towards them.
As we advanced, the slight rustling of the bushes must have
attracted the attention of one of the bulls, for he raised his
trunk high in the air, and made a few steps forward. 'I'll take
him, and do you fire at the one with the long white tusks on the
left,' whispered W. 'Right you are!' was the reply, and the next
moment we fired. I just had time to see my elephant fall on his
knees, when he was hidden by the troop of cows that, awakened
from their sleep by the shots, and not knowing exactly where
the danger lay, came rushing towards us in a mass, one or two of
them trumpeting, and others making a sort of rumbling noise.
Seizing our second guns and shouting lustily, we again pulled
trigger. Our Hottentot boy John, and five of our Kafirs, who
still carried guns, also fired; on which the herd turned and
went off at right angles, enveloped in a cloud of dust. My gun
had only snapped the cap, but my Kafir, to whom I threw it back,
thinking in the noise and hurry that it was discharged, reloaded
it on the top of the old charge--a fact which I only found out,
to my sorrow, later on. The cloud of sand and dust raised by the
panic-stricken elephants was at first so thick that we could
distinguish nothing; but, running behind them, I soon made out
the bull I had wounded, which I recognized by the length and
shape of his tusks. He was evidently hard hit, and, being unable
to keep up with the herd, he turned out, and went off alone; but
he was joined almost immediately by four old cows, all with
small, insignificant tusks, and, instead of running away, they
walked along quite slowly, first in front of and then behind
him, as if to encourage him. Seeing how severely he was wounded,
I at once went after him, accompanied only by my two
gun-carriers, Nuta and Balamoya, W. and the rest of the Kafirs
going on after the troop. My bull was going so slowly that I had
no difficulty in threading my way through the bushes and getting
in front of him, which I did in order to get a broadside shot as
he passed me. One of the four cows that still accompanied him
walked along, carrying her head high and her tail straight in
the air, and kept constantly turning from side to side. 'That
cow will bother us; shoot her,' said Nuta, and I wish I had
taken his advice; but her tusks were so small, and the bull
seemed so very far gone, that I thought it would be a waste of
ammunition. I therefore waited till he was a little in front of
where I stood, and then gave him a bullet at very close
quarters, just behind the shoulder, and, as I thought, exactly
in the right place; but he nevertheless continued his walk as if
he had not felt it. Reloading the same gun, I ran behind him,
holding it before me in both hands, ready to raise at a moment's
notice, and, the four cows being some twenty yards in advance, I
shouted, hoping he would turn. The sound of my voice had the
desired effect; for he at once raised his ears and swung himself
round, or rather was in the act of doing so, for immediately his
ears went up my gun was at my shoulder, and as soon as he
presented his broadside I fired, on which he turned again, and
went crashing through the bushes at a trot. I thought that it
was a last spasmodic rush and that he would fall before going
very far; so, giving the gun back to Nuta to reload, I was
running after him, with my eyes fixed on the quivering bushes as
they closed behind him, when suddenly the trunk of another
elephant was whirled round, almost literally above my head, and
a short, sharp scream of rage thrilled through me, making the
blood tingle down to the very tips of my fingers. It was one of
the wretched old cows, that had thus lain in wait for me behind
a dense patch of bush.
"Even had my gun been in my hands, I should scarcely have had
time to fire, so close was she upon me; but, as it was, both my
Kafirs were some fifteen yards behind, and the only thing I
could do was to run. How I got away I scarcely know. I bounded
over and through thorn-bushes which, in cold blood, I should
have judged impenetrable; but I was urged on by the short
piercing screams which, repeated in quick succession, seemed to
make the whole air vibrate, and by the fear of finding myself
encircled by the trunk or transfixed by the tusk of the enraged
animal. After a few seconds (for I don't think she pursued me a
hundred yards, though it seemed an age), the screaming ceased.
During the chase, the elephant was so close behind me, that
looking over my shoulder was impossible, and all that I did was
to dash forward, springing from side to side so as to hinder her
from getting hold of me, and it was only when the trumpeting
suddenly stopped that I knew I was out of her reach. I was
barelegged--as I always am when hunting on foot--and my only
garment before the beast charged was a flannel shirt; but I now
stood almost _in puris naturalibus_, for my hat, the leather
belt that I wore round my waist, and about three parts of my
shirt, had been torn off by the bushes, and I doubt if there was
a square inch of skin left uninjured anywhere on the front of my
body."
Soon after another old bull charged him.
"Taking a good sight for the middle of his shoulder, I pulled
the trigger. This time the gun went off--it was a four-bore
elephant gun, loaded twice over, and the powder thrown in each
time by a Kafir with his hands--and I went off too! I was lifted
clean from the ground, and turning round in the air, fell with
my face in the sand, whilst the gun was carried yards away over
my shoulder. At first I was almost stunned with the shock, and I
soon found that I could not lift my right arm. Besides this, I
was covered with blood, which spurted from a deep wound under
the right cheek-bone, caused by the stock of the gun as it flew
upwards from the violence of the recoil. The stock
itself--though it had been bound round, as are all
elephant-guns, with the inside skin of an elephant's ear put on
green, which when dry holds it as firmly as iron--was shattered
to pieces, and the only wonder was that the barrel did not
burst. Whether the two bullets hit the elephant or not I cannot
say; but I think they must have done so, for he only went a few
yards after I fired, and then stood still, raising his trunk
every now and then, and dashing water tinged with blood over his
chest. I went cautiously up to within forty yards or so of him,
and sat down. Though I could not hold my arm out, I could raise
my forearm, so as to get hold of the trigger; but the shock had
so told on me, that I found I could not keep the sight within a
yard of the right place. The elephant remained perfectly still;
so I got Nuta to work my arm about gently, in order to restore
its power, and hoped that in the meantime the Kafir, whose
shouting had originally brought the elephant to me, would come
up and be able to go and fetch W. No doubt, if I had shouted he
would have come at once, for he could not have been very far
off; but had I done so the elephant might either have charged,
or else continued his flight, neither of which alternatives did
I desire. After a short time, seeing no chance of aid arriving,
and my nerves having got a little steadier, I took my favourite
gun from Nuta, and, resting my elbow on my knee, took a quiet
pot shot. I was, however, still very unsteady even in this
position, but I do not think the bullet could have struck very
far from the right place. The elephant on receiving the shot
made a rush forwards, crashing through the bushes at a quick
walk, so that we had to run at a hard trot to keep him in sight.
He now seemed very vicious, for, hearing a dry branch snap, he
turned and ran towards us, and then stood with his ears up,
feeling about in all directions with his trunk to try and get
our wind.
"Nuta, who up to this day had always been a most staunch and
plucky gun-bearer, now seemed seized with a panic, and refused
to bring me the gun any more, calling out, 'Leave the elephant,
sir; this day you're bewitched, and will surely be killed.'
However, as the elephant was evidently very severely wounded, I
had no idea of giving over the chase as long as I could keep up,
and, after bestowing a few Anglo-Saxon idioms upon Nuta, I again
ran on. The bush now became very thick, and, as the elephant was
going straight away, I could not get a chance of a shot. About a
mile farther on, however, we came to one of those large open
turf flats which occur here and there in the midst of the
sinangas. It was quite a mile square, and perfectly bare, with
the exception of a few large camel-thorn trees, which were
scattered about in clumps. On reaching this opening, the
elephant, instead of turning back into the bush, as I should
have expected, kept his course, making straight for the farther
side, and going at that long, swinging walk, to keep up with
which a man on foot must run at a fair pace. I had now been a
long time bare-headed, exposed to the heat of the fierce
tropical sun, and the kick I had received from the gun had so
much shaken me, that I felt dead-beat, and could scarcely drag
one leg after the other. I saw that I should never be able to
run up to within shot of the elephant, which was now about 150
yards ahead; so, taking the gun from Nuta, I told him to try and
run right round him, and by shouting turn him back towards me.
Relieved of the weight of the gun, and being a splendid runner,
he soon accomplished this, and standing behind the stem of a
camel-thorn tree a long way in advance, holloed loudly.
Accordingly, I had the satisfaction of seeing the elephant stop,
raise his ears, look steadily in the direction of the noise, and
then wheel round, and come walking straight back towards the
jungle he had just left, taking a line which would bring him
past me, at a distance of about fifty or sixty yards. I stood
perfectly still, with Balamoya kneeling close behind me; for,
though elephants can see very well in the open, I have always
found that if they do not get your wind, and you remain
motionless, they seem to take you for a tree or a stump. To this
I now trusted, and as the elephant came on I had full leisure to
examine him. The ground between us was as bare as a board,
except that it was covered with coarse grass about a foot high,
and he looked truly a gigantic and formidable beast; his tusks
were small for his size, one of them being broken at the point,
and I do not think they could have weighed much over 30 lbs.
apiece. He came steadily on, swinging his trunk backwards and
forwards, until he was about seventy yards from where I stood,
when suddenly I was dismayed to see his trunk sharply raised, as
if to catch a stray whiff of wind, and the next instant he
stopped and faced full towards us, with his head raised, and his
enormous ears spread like two sails. He took a few steps towards
us, raising his feet very slowly, and bringing them down as if
afraid of treading on a thorn. It was an anxious moment; he was
evidently very suspicious, but did not know what to make of us,
and had we remained motionless I believe he would still have
turned and walked on again. 'Stand still!' I whispered between
my teeth to Balamoya; but the sight of the advancing monster was
too much for him--he jumped up and bolted. The instant he moved,
on came the elephant, without trumpeting, and with his trunk
straight down. Though very shaky just before, the imminence of
the danger braced up my nerves, and I think I never held a gun
steadier than upon this occasion. As he was coming direct at me,
and as he did not raise his trunk, his chest was quite covered;
there was therefore nothing left but to fire at his head. He
came on at an astonishing pace, and I heard only the 'whish,
whish' of the grass as his great feet swept through it. He was
perhaps twenty yards off when I pulled the trigger. I aimed a
little above the root of the trunk and just between the eyes,
and directly I fired I ran out sideways as fast as I could,
though I had not much running left in me. Looking over my
shoulder, I saw him standing with his ears still up and his head
slightly turned, looking towards me; the blood was pouring down
his trunk from a wound exactly where I had aimed, and, as it was
inflicted by a four-ounce ball, backed by a heavy charge of
powder, I cannot understand why it did not penetrate to his
brain; it had half-stunned him, however, and saved my life, for,
had he come on again, it would have been utterly impossible for
me, fatigued as I was, to have avoided him. After standing still
for a short time, swaying himself gently from side to side, he
again turned and took across the flat. Nuta, seeing what had
happened, instead of trying to turn him again, cleared out of
his road, and, making a large circle, came back to me. Perhaps
it was as well he did so."
Selous now gave up the pursuit without having killed a single elephant,
and it was ten days before he could use his arm again.
In November, the rainy season having set in, Selous and Wood returned to
Bulawayo carrying 5000 lbs. weight of ivory. Selous bears testimony to
the extraordinary abundance of game at this time in South Africa, and
gives a wonderful word-picture of the extraordinary collection of
animals he saw one evening in October, 1873, in the valley of the Dett.
"First, a few hundred yards higher up this valley than where we
were working, a herd of nine giraffes stalked slowly and
majestically from the forest, and, making their way to a pool of
water, commenced to drink. These giraffes remained in the open
valley until dark, one or other of them, from time to time,
straddling out his forelegs in a most extraordinary manner in
order to get its mouth down to the water. No other animals came
to drink in the pools between us and the giraffes. Possibly some
got our wind before leaving the shelter of the forest, though
the evening was very still. But below us, as far as one could
see down the valley, the open ground was presently alive with
game. One after another, great herds of buffaloes emerged from
the forest on either side of the valley and fed slowly down to
the water. One of these herds was preceded by about fifty zebras
and another by a large herd of sable antelopes. Presently two
other herds of sable antelopes appeared upon the scene, and a
second herd of zebras, and five magnificently horned old koodoo
bulls, whilst rhinoceroses both of the black and white species
(the latter predominating in numbers) were scattered amongst the
other game, singly or in twos and threes all down the valley. Of
course all this great concourse of wild animals had been
collected together in the neighbourhood of the valley of the
Dett owing to the drying up of all the valleys in the
surrounding country, and during the rainy season would have been
scattered over a wide area."[10]
In 1874, Wood, Selous, Mr. and Lieutenant Garden trekked north,
intending to hunt on the Zambesi and Chobe rivers. They left Tati on May
6th and approached the Victoria Falls on June 10th, stopping on the way
at Daka, where Wood and Selous killed some elephants, and the latter had
a somewhat narrow escape from a charging bull which he managed to kill
just at the right moment. On June 27th they viewed the wonderful Falls
of Zambesi, and Selous, like all other travellers, goes into ecstasies
at their beauty and grandeur. Here they encountered for the first time a
rare antelope, the pookoo, which gave Selous much pleasure, for it may
be said that from this date he commenced his wonderful collection of
African mammals. During, and after, 1874, he never failed to preserve
and keep for his own collection all the best specimens of big game he
shot, then having unrivalled opportunities for getting the finest
trophies. This can, of course, only be achieved when animals are
abundant. He often lamented afterwards that he did not take more care to
get some buffalo bulls of the first quality, for he certainly saw and
killed great numbers in those early years, yet he only kept three or
four heads of bulls that were in no way remarkable, when he could have
possessed the best specimens in existence. When he wanted them it was
too late.
At the Zambesi, Wood decided to go eastward to the Gwai, so Selous and
the Gardens travelled west into the unknown country of the Chobe. On the
first day Selous killed a splendid koodoo bull which he preserved, and
shortly afterwards encountered numerous herds of pookoo and other
antelopes. The country about the Chobe was in fact about the best for
mixed game at this period, and Selous revelled in the wealth of animal
life, though he devoted most of his energies to looking for elephants,
which were here difficult to kill owing to shifting winds. One day he
had quite a little battle with the fierce buffalo cow.[11]
"On again arriving at the open valley mentioned above, I found
it occupied by a large herd of two or three hundred buffaloes,
that had emerged from the surrounding jungle during my absence,
and were now feeding quietly down towards the river for their
evening drink. Though I hardly liked to fire, for fear of
disturbing elephants, some of which might, for all I knew, be
within hearing, yet, on the other hand, I had a strong desire to
secure a nice fat buffalo steak for supper, and at last
forgetting all more prudent resolves, and sympathising with the
feelings of my Kafirs who kept entreating me to shoot them a fat
cow, I took my four-bore elephant-gun and advanced towards the
still unconscious herd, resolved to kill one if possible. Those
that were nearest were about one hundred and twenty yards from
the edge of the bush, beyond which there was no shelter, save
that afforded by a few large scattered goussy trees. However, by
creeping cautiously forward on my hands and knees, I managed to
get within eighty yards or so, when an old cow observing me,
raised her head and gazed steadily towards where I crouched.
There was no time to be lost, as I saw she was thoroughly
alarmed, so, singling out a fine fat cow, that stood broadside
on close beside her, I raised my heavy gun, and taking a quick
aim behind her shoulder, fired. The loud bellow that followed
the shot told me she was hard hit, but I could see nothing, for
the whole herd, startled by the report of the gun, rushed
together in wild affright, and now stood in a dense mass, facing
towards their hidden foe, effectually screening the wounded cow
from my view. In another instant, seemingly satisfied that
something dangerous was near, they turned about and galloped
away across the valley, making for the bush on the opposite
side, and on the dust raised by their many feet subsiding, I
beheld the one I had wounded still standing where she had been
shot, and thought she was about done for; but on seeing me step
from behind a tree, she immediately wheeled round and made for
the jungle.
"When the herd ran together, after I had fired, with several
nasty-looking old bulls in their front, my native attendants had
all retreated precipitately to the edge of the bush (with the
exception of one of the Masaras, who was carrying a small gourd
of water slung on an assegai over his shoulder), or I might have
given the cow another shot with my second gun before she turned
to run. Although evidently severely wounded, she still managed
to get over the ground at a great rate, and entered the bush at
least 100 yards in advance of myself and the Bushman, who were
following at our best pace, the Kafirs carrying my guns being a
considerable distance behind. Just within the edge of the jungle
was one very thick patch, unlike the greater part, covered with
foliage, and behind this the wounded buffalo turned and stood at
bay waiting for her pursuers. Not thinking of this stratagem (a
very common one with both buffaloes and elephants), and
imagining her to be a considerable distance ahead, I ran into
her very horns before I saw her, and she at the same time seeing
me at once charged, with eyes on fire, and her nose stretched
straight out, grunting furiously. Luckily she was not standing
head on, but broadside to me, and so could not come straight at
me, but had first to turn round the bush. This gave me time to
spring through the bushes to one side, as she rushed past, when
she immediately made at the Bushman, who, springing into a
small sapling, just swung his body up out of reach as she passed
beneath. So close was she, that, as the calabash full of water,
which he had been carrying slung on an assegai, fell to the
ground behind him, she smashed it to atoms, either with her feet
or horns, just as, if not before, it touched the ground. After
this she turned and stood under the very slender tree on which
the Bushman hung, looking up at him, and grunting furiously, but
not attempting to butt the tree down, which I think she could
have accomplished had she but tried. At this instant the Kafir
who carried my ten-bore rifle, reaching the scene of action
unperceived by the buffalo, fired at and missed her, on which
she again retreated behind the bush from whence she had first
charged. By this time, however, I had my second elephant-gun in
my hands, and creeping up gave her another bullet on the point
of the shoulder, just as she caught sight of me and was again
turning to charge. On receiving this second ball, she fell to
the ground, and snatching up an assegai, and followed by several
of the Kafirs, we ran in and despatched her before she could
rise. She proved to be a dry cow in splendid condition."
He killed several good bull elephants in the Chobe bush and had some
narrow escapes, once nearly losing his life owing to the caps missing
fire. What delighted him most was the abundance of other game he saw. He
believed the sable antelopes here carried finer horns than in any part
of South Africa, south of the Zambesi, and often wished afterwards he
had shot one or two, but when he encountered them he was always after
elephants, so he did not fire. The best specimen of this grand animal he
killed in Northern Mashunaland three years later, and its horns measured
441/2 ins. in length, but he always thought that somewhere in Africa there
were greater sable antelopes than this, and one day, in later years, he
found in the museum at Florence a wonderful single horn of 60 inches.
For years he tried to find out where it came from without success. Now
we know it must have been sent from Angola, Portuguese West Africa, for
on the Quanza river some remarkable specimens have been obtained,
reaching up to 63 inches but it is feared that they are few in number
there, and nearly extinct.
Near the Chobe on some marshy flats he found the lechwe antelope for the
first time and killed some good examples, and he accurately
described[12] the curious movements of these antelopes.
"When first they make up their minds to run, these lechwe buck
stretch out their noses, laying their horns flat along their
backs, and trot like an eland, but on being pressed break into a
springing gallop, now and then bounding high into the air like
impalas. Even when in water up to their necks they do not swim,
but get along by a succession of bounds with great rapidity,
making a tremendous splashing and general commotion. Of course
when the water becomes too deep for them to bottom they are
forced to swim, which they do well and strongly, though not as
fast as the natives can paddle, and in the rainy season, when
the country is flooded, great numbers are driven into deep water
and speared before they can again reach the shallows where they
can touch ground. It is owing to their being thus driven about
and harried by the natives in canoes, I suspect, that they are
so wild, as I don't think they can often have heard the sound of
a gun before."
In September he was very lucky with the elephants, killing five each day
on September 4th and September 8th. Altogether he shot twenty-four in
1874.
"During the intensely hot weather in September and October, just
before the rains fall, elephants soon become fatigued if driven
about and exposed to the fierce sun. When they get hot and tired
they insert their trunks into their mouths and draw out water
from their stomachs, which they dash over their breasts and
shoulders to cool themselves; and when the supply of water is
exhausted they will sometimes throw sand over their bodies,
which one would suppose would only make them hotter than they
were before. Though, as I have said, elephants get knocked up
comparatively soon when hunted during the hot weather, yet, as
may be imagined, it is killing work following them on foot at
that season, in deep sandy ground and under a tropical sun, and
with nothing to drink but a very limited allowance of water
carried in a gourd, which soon gets lukewarm from the intensity
of the heat."[13]
On September 11th he made a start for home, reaching Daka on September
26th, after an absence of three months. He then went east to trade at
Wankie, where he got 300 lbs. of good ivory. In December he trekked
south to the Tati, where he shot his first lion. Thus it was three years
before Selous actually shot a lion in Africa--a fact that may seem
somewhat strange, but not so much when we consider the nocturnal habits
of these animals. I knew a man in East Africa who lived in a district
where lions are far more abundant than they were in South Africa, who,
though constantly shooting and travelling in lion haunts, had never once
seen one of these beasts in the course of several years.
Selous' first lions were evidently of the fighting order, as they always
are, when pressed by a mounted man.[14]
"On this occasion, as Dorehill and myself were riding through a
patch of bush, our ears were suddenly saluted with a muffled
growling that we did not immediately interpret. The next
instant, however, Hartebeest rushed forward, pointing with his
assegai, and shouting, 'Isilouan! isilouan!' (lions! lions!). I
saw nothing, but galloped through the bush in the direction he
pointed, Dorehill heading a little to the right. A few moments
later, coming to a more open part, I saw two large lionesses
trotting along in front of me. Upon hearing me behind them, they
both stopped, and standing broadside to me, turned their heads
and looked towards me. Pulling in my horse, I jumped to the
ground, upon which they started off again at a gallop. I fired
at the hindermost one as she ran, and evidently struck her, for
she threw up her tail and gave a loud growl. They now went into
a patch of short mopani bush, beyond which the country was open
forest, with no underwood. At first they trotted out into this
open forest, but the wounded one not seeming to like it, turned,
and squatting on the ground, crept back like a cat, with her
shoulders above her back, and her eyes all the time fixed upon
me, until she reached a little thorn-bush, under which she
stretched herself at full length, and lay watching me with her
head couched on her outstretched paws. All this time the other
lioness was standing in the open, and I was just going to
dismount and fire at her, when, turning towards me, she trotted
a few steps forwards, and then, throwing her tail two or three
times straight into the air, came galloping forwards, growling
savagely. Turning my horse's head I pressed him to his utmost
speed, closely pursued by the lioness. I do not know how near
she got, but her loud purring growls sounded unpleasantly close.
As soon as the growling stopped, I knew she had given up the
chase, and so rode round in a half-circle to get a view of her.
She then trotted to a large mopani tree, in the shade of which
she stood. When I rode to another tree about sixty yards off,
she lowered her head and stood looking at me, snarling savagely,
with her tail held straight in the air. I think that she had
done her best to catch me, as her flanks were heaving like those
of a tired dog, with the exertion of her run. Feeling sure that
she would charge again as soon as she recovered her breath, I
steadied myself and fired from the saddle, but missed her. She
never took the slightest notice of the shot, but continued
snarling and growling. Resting the butt of my rifle (a single
ten-bore muzzle-loader) on my foot, I now reloaded with all
expedition, and fired again, the lioness all this time having
preserved the same position, standing exactly facing me. This
time I struck her right in the mouth, knocking out one of the
lower canine teeth, breaking the lower jaw-bone, and injuring
her neck. She fell to the shot instantly, and lay quite still. I
thought she was dead, but took the precaution to reload before
riding up to her. On my dismounting and walking towards her, she
raised herself on her fore-quarters, when I gave her a ball in
the shoulder which effectually settled her. Dorehill now came up
with the Kafirs. He had seen the other lions, a male and two
females, for there were five altogether, but they had given him
the slip in a patch of thick bush. We now went to look for the
one I had first wounded, but though there was a little blood
under the bush where she had been lying, we could discover no
further trace of her, and the ground being very hard no sign of
her spoor was visible, even to the keen eyes of the Bushmen. So,
after skinning the one I had killed, which was in beautiful
condition, we returned to the waggons."
At Tati Selous received his first letters from home since he left the
Diamond Fields three years previously, and after reading their contents
he decided to go home, and so turned his face southward on February 1st,
1875.
FOOTNOTES:
[4] There was an exhibition of Baines' collected works at the Crystal
Palace some years ago, but few people took any notice of them. Baines
published an excellent book "The Gold Regions of South-Eastern Africa"
in 1877.
[5] "A Hunter's Wanderings," pp. 15-23.
[6] Finaughty states that in 1867 Jan Viljoen and his party killed 210
elephants in one trip. This is probably the largest bag of elephants
ever made in one season.
[7] In this matter Finaughty received powerful support in the evidence
of William Judd, possibly the most experienced African hunter now
living; he writes: "As for buffalo I consider them far and away the most
dangerous game. The difficulty of stopping a direct charge, as they very
rarely swerve even to the heaviest bullet--the way they can force
themselves through bush absolutely impenetrable to man and the nasty
habit they have, when wounded (and sometimes when not wounded) of
breaking away, making a detour and charging up again from behind, make
them an adversary worthy of the greatest respect. I personally have had
more close shaves from these brutes than I have had from all other big
game put together--lions and elephants included."
[8] "A Hunter's Wanderings," pp. 84-88.
[9] "A Hunter's Wanderings," pp. 89-99.
[10] "African Nature Notes and Reminiscences," p. 134.
[11] "A Hunter's Wanderings," pp. 120-123.
[12] "A Hunter's Wanderings," pp. 137-138.
[13] "A Hunter's Wanderings," p. 181.
[14] _Ibid._, pp. 187-189.