IN WILDEST AFRICA
IN WILDEST AFRICA
BY
C. G. SCHILLINGS
AUTHOR OF “WITH FLASHLIGHT AND RIFLE IN EQUATORIAL EAST AFRICA”
TRANSLATED BY
FREDERIC WHYTE
=WITH OVER 300 PHOTOGRAPHIC STUDIES DIRECT FROM THE AUTHOR’S
NEGATIVES, TAKEN BY DAY AND NIGHT; AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS=
VOL. II
LONDON
HUTCHINSON & CO.
PATERNOSTER ROW
1907
[Illustration: YOUNG DWARF ANTELOPE]
Contents of Vol. II
CHAP PAGE
VIII. IN A PRIMEVAL FOREST 319
IX. AFTER ELEPHANTS WITH WANDOROBO 370
X. RHINOCEROS-HUNTING 431
XI. THE CAPTURING OF A LION 470
XII. A DYING RACE OF GIANTS 511
XIII. A VANISHING FEATURE OF THE VELT 550
XIV. CAMPING OUT ON THE VELT 578
XV. NIGHT PHOTOGRAPHY UNDER DIFFICULTIES 637
XVI. PHOTOGRAPHY BY DAY AND BY NIGHT 657
[Illustration: CORMORANTS.]
List of Illustrations in Vol. II
PAGE
Young Dwarf Antelope v
Cormorants vii
Spurred Geese 319
Views of Kilimanjaro 322, 323, 327
River-bed Vegetation on the Velt 331
A Fisherman’s Bag 335
Clatter-bills 340, 341
A Marsh-land View 346
Snow-white Herons 347
A Pair of Crested Cranes 349
A Snake-vulture 349
Preparing to Skin a Hippopotamus 352
Hippopotami Swimming 353
Head of a Hippopotamus 357
A Wandorobo Chief 359
Egyptian Geese 364
A Wounded Buffalo 365
Hunting Record-card 367
A Sea-gull 369
A Masai throwing his Spear 370
A Hippopotamus on his way to the Swamp _facing_ 370
Oryx Antelopes 374
Waterbuck 375
Wandorobo Guides on the March 380
A Party of Wandorobo Hunters 381
A Feast of Honey 386
Acacia-tree denuded by Elephants 387
An Oryx Antelope’s Methods of Defence 389
A Dwarf Kudu 390
Zebras 392
Giraffe Studies 392
Zebras on the open Velt 393
Laden Masai Donkeys 397
Pearl-hens on an Acacia-tree 393
A pair of Grant’s Gazelles taking to Flight _facing_ 398
Grant’s Gazelles 402
A Good Instance of Protective Colouring 402
Grant’s Gazelles 403, 408, 409
Young Masai Hartebeest 411
A Herd of Hartebeests 414
Hartebeests with Young 415
Waterbuck 415
The Skinning of an Elephant 420, 421
A Missionary’s Dwelling 424
Elephants killed by the Author 426, 427
Some African Trophies 429
Black-headed Herons 431
Rhinoceros Heads 434, 435
An Eland Bull _facing_ 438
An Eland, just before the Finishing Shot 441
An Eland Bull 445
Rhinoceroses, with and without Horns 450, 451
Snapshot of a Rhinoceros at twenty paces 455
Shelter from a Rhinoceros 459
An Emaciated Rhinoceros 461
Specimen of Stone against which Rhinoceroses whet their Horns 463
A “Rhino” in sitting posture _facing_ 464
A Rock-pool on Kilimanjaro 467
Masai Killing a Hyena with Clubs 470
The Moods of a Lion Cub 472, 473
Record of a Lion-hunt 479
A Lion at Bay 483
Studies of a Trapped Lion 485
The Lion ... had dragged the Trap some distance _facing_ 488
Carrying a Live Lion to Camp 489
A Captured Lioness 492
A Trapped Lion roaring 493
Flashlight Photograph of a Lion 495
Photograph of a Lion at five paces 499
Hauling a Live Hyena into Camp 501
Hyena Chained up in Camp 505
Masai making game of a Trapped Hyena 507
Specimens of Elephant-tusks 511
Record Elephant-tusks 513
A Store of Elephant-tusks 517
Auk and Auk’s Egg 521
Thicket frequented by Elephants 525
Velt Fires 532, 533
An old Acacia-tree 537
Studies of Elephants in Dense Forest Growth _facing_ 540
Elephants and Giraffe--a Quaint Companionship 544, 545
A Young Lion 549
Study in Protective “Mimicry” 550
Giraffe Studies 552, 553; 558, 559; 564, 565
Giraffes in Characteristic Surroundings _facing_ 568
Head of a Giraffe 569
Giraffe Studies 574, 575
_Giraffa schillingsi_, Mtsch. _facing_ 576
Crested Cranes on the Wing 577
Hungry Vultures 578
Pitching Camp 579
My Taxidermist at Work 581
Termite Ant-hills 583
An unusually large Ant-hill 587
Prince Löwenstein 589
Destroying an Ant-hill with Pick and Shovel 590
Serving out Provisions 592
Bearer’s Wife preparing a Meal 592
Young Baboons in front of my Tent 593
Young Ostriches 593
Marabou Nests 595, 598
Feathered members of my Camp 599
A rather Mixed-up Photograph 601
My Rhinoceros: in the Berlin “Zoo” and on the Velt 606, 607
How my captive “Rhino” was Carried to Camp 612
Carrying a Dead Leopard 612
My “Rhino” and her Two Companions 613
A Young Hyena extracted from its Lair 613
Vultures:
On the Wing 618
Hovering over a Carcase 619
Moving away from a Carcase 621
My Pelicans 623
A Siesta in Camp 625
A Strange Friendship 628
“Fatima” Prowling Round 629
Carrying a fine Leopard 631
Killing Game in accordance with Mohammedan rites 633
Cutting up the Carcase 633
A Trapped Leopard 635
The Baboon and the Little Black Lady 636
Moonlight on the Velt _facing_ 636
A Fowl of the Velt 637
A River-horse Resort 639
One of the Peaks of Donje-Erok 641
Drawing Water for the March 643
Vultures 645
Flashlight Photographs 648, 649
My Night-apparatus in position 653
A Pet of the Caravan 654
A Baobab-tree 655
Flashlight Photograph of a Mongoose 657
Apparatus for Night Photography 660, 661
Vultures contesting the Possession of Carrion 665
First Dry-plate Photograph, probably,
ever taken in the African Desert 667
Photographic Mishaps:
Cracked Glass Plate 669
Plate Exposed Twice 673
Telephotograph of Ostriches 677
Photographs of Birds taken at distances
varying from 20 to 200 paces 681
Telephotographs of Birds on the Wing 683
Dwarf Gazelle, photographed at sixty paces 684
Jackal taking to Flight, startled by the Flashlight 685
Lioness frightened away from Carcase
by the Flashlight _facing_ 688
Aiming at a Pigeon and Hitting a Crow! _facing_ 688
Hand-camera Photograph of a Jackal 689
Photograph of a Jackal taken with my
first Night-apparatus 689
Flashlight Photography: my Native Models 691
Flashlight Failures 694, 695; 697, 698
Photographic Studies of Antelopes shot by the Author 699
Jackals _facing_ 702
East-African Antelopes shot by the Author 703
More Antelopes 707
Spotted and Striped Hyenas and Jackal 711
A Jackal in full Flight 713
Guinea-fowl 715
Farewell to Africa 716
[Illustration: SPURRED GEESE (_PLECTROPTERUS GAMBENSIS_).]
VIII
In a Primeval Forest
Scenes of marvellous beauty open out before the wanderer who follows
the windings of some great river through the unknown regions of
Equatorial East Africa.
The dark, turbid stream is to find its way, after a thousand twists
and turns, into the Indian Ocean. Filterings from the distant glaciers
of Kilimanjaro come down into the arid velt, there to form pools and
rivulets that traverse in part the basin of the Djipe Lake and at last
are merged in the Rufu River. As is so often the case with African
rivers, the banks of the Rufu are densely wooded throughout its long
course, the monotony of which is broken by a number of rapids and one
big waterfall. Save in those rare spots where the formation of the
soil is favourable to their growth, the woods do not extend into the
velt. Trees and shrubs alike become parched a few steps away from the
sustaining river. The abundance of fish in the river is tremendous in
its wilder reaches--inexhaustible, it would seem, despite the thousands
of animal enemies. The river continually overflows its banks, and the
resulting swamps give such endless opportunities for spawning that at
times every channel is alive with fry and inconceivable multitudes of
small fishes.
It is only here and there and for short stretches that the river is
lost in impenetrable thickets. Marvellous are those serried ranks of
trees! marvellous, too, the sylvan galleries through which more usually
it shapes its way! They take the eye captive and seem to withhold
some unsuspected secret, some strange riddle, behind their solid mass
of succulent foliage. It is strange that these primeval trees should
still survive in all their strength with all the parasitic plants and
creepers that cling to them, strangling them in their embrace. You
would almost say that they lived on but as a prop to support the plants
and creepers in their fight for life. Convolvuli, white and violet,
stoop forward over the water, and the golden yellow acacia blossoms
brighten the picture.
In the more open reaches dragonflies and butterflies glisten all
around us in the moist atmosphere. A grass-green tree-snake glides
swiftly through the branches of a shrub close by. A Waran (_Waranus
niloticus_) runs to the water with a strange sudden rustle through
the parched foliage. Everywhere are myriads of insects. Wherever you
look, the woods teem with life. These woods screen the river from the
neighbouring velt, the uniformity of which is but seldom broken in upon
by patches of vegetation. The character of the flora has something
northern about it to the unlearned eye, as is the case so often in
East Africa. It is only when you come suddenly upon the Dutch palms
(_Borassus æthiopicus_, Mart., or the beautiful _Hyphæne thebaica_,
Mart.) that you feel once again that you are in the tropics.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
VIEW OF MAWENZI, THE HIGHEST PEAK BUT ONE OF KILIMANJARO, TAKEN WITH A
TELEPHOTO-LENS.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
VIEW OF KILIMANJARO, TAKEN AT SUNSET.]
The river now makes a great curve round to the right. A different kind
of scene opens out to the gaze--a great stretch of open country. In the
foreground the mud-banks of the stream are astir with huge crocodiles
gliding into the water and moving about this way and that, like
tree-trunks come suddenly to life. Now they vanish from sight, but only
to take up their position in ambush, ready to snap at any breathing
thing that comes unexpectedly within their reach. Doubtless they find
it the more easy to sink beneath the surface of the river by reason of
the great number of sometimes quite heavy stones they have swallowed,
and have inside them. I have sometimes found as much as seven pounds of
stones and pebbles in the stomach of a crocodile.
The deep reaches of the river are their special domain. Multitudes of
birds frequent the shallows, knowing from experience that they are safe
from their enemy. One of the most interesting things that have come
under my observation is the way these birds keep aloof from the deep
waters which the crocodiles infest. I have mentioned it elsewhere, but
am tempted to allude to it once again.
Our attention is caught by the wonderful wealth of bird-life now spread
out before us in every direction. Here comes a flock of the curious
clatter-bills (_Anastomus lamelligerus_, Tem.) in their simple but
attractive plumage. They have come in quest of food. Hundreds of other
marsh-birds of all kinds have settled on the outspread branches of the
trees, and enable us to distinguish between their widely differing
notes.
Among these old trees that overhang the river, covered with creepers
and laden with fruit of quaint shape, are Kigelia, tamarinds, and
acacias. In amongst the dense branches a family of Angolan guereza apes
(_Colobus palliatus_, Ptrs.) and a number of long-tailed monkeys are
moving to and fro. Now a flock of snowy-feathered herons (_Herodias
garzetta_, L., and _Bubulcus ibis_, L.) flash past, dazzlingly
white--two hundred of them, at least--alighting for a moment on the
brittle branches and pausing in their search for food. Gravely moving
their heads about from side to side, they impart a peculiar charm to
the trees. Now another flock of herons (_Herodias alba_, L.), also
dazzlingly white, but birds of a larger growth, speed past, flying for
their lives. Why is it that even here, in this remote sanctuary of
animal life, within which I am the first European trespasser, these
beautiful birds are so timorous? Who can answer that question with any
certainty? All we know is, that it has come to be their nature to scour
about from place to place in perpetual flight. Perhaps in other lands
they have made acquaintance with man’s destructiveness. Perhaps they
are endowed with keener senses than their smaller snow-white kinsfolk,
which suffer us to approach so near, and which, like the curious
clatter-bill (which have never yet been seen in captivity), evince no
sign of shyness--nothing but a certain mild surprise--at the sight
of man.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
KIBO IN THE FOREGROUND, WITH THE SADDLE-SHAPED RANGE CONNECTING IT WITH
MAWENZI IN THE DISTANCE. THE AVERAGE HEIGHT OF THIS “SADDLE” IS MORE
THAN 16,OOO FEET.]
Now, with a noisy clattering of wings, those less comely creatures,
the Hagedasch ibises, rise in front of us, filling the air with their
extraordinary cry: “Heiha! Ha heiha!”
Now we have a strange spectacle before our eyes--a number of wild
geese, perched upon the trees. The great, heavy birds make several
false starts before they make up their minds to escape to safety. They
present a beautiful sight as they make off on their powerful wings.
They are rightly styled “spurred geese,” by reason of the sharp spurs
they have on their wings. Hammerheads (_Scopus umbretta_, Gm.) move
about in all directions. A colony of darters now comes into sight, and
monopolises my attention. A few of their flat-shaped nests are visible
among the pendent branches of some huge acacias, rising from an island
in mid-stream. While several of the long-necked fishing-birds seek
safety in flight, others--clearly the females--remain seated awhile on
the eggs in their nests, but at last, with a sudden dart, take also to
their wings and disappear. Beneath the nesting-places of these birds
I found great hidden shaded cavities, the resorts for ages past of
hippopotami, which find a safe and comfortable haven in these small
islands.
The dark forms of these fishing-birds present a strange appearance in
full flight. They speed past you swiftly, looking more like survivals
from some earlier age than like birds of our own day. There is a
suggestion of flying lizards about them. Here they come, describing
a great curve along the river’s course, at a fair height. They are
returning to their nests, and as they draw near I get a better chance
of observing the varying phases of their flight.
But look where I may, I see all around me a wealth of tropical
bird-life. Snow-white herons balance themselves on the topmost
branches of the acacias. Barely visible against the deep-blue sky, a
brood-colony of wood ibis pelicans (_Tantalus ibis_, L.) fly hither
and thither, seeking food for their young. Other species of herons,
notably the black-headed heron, so like our own common heron (_Ardea
melanocephala_, Vig., Childr.), and further away a great flock of
cow-herons (_Bubulcus ibis_, L.), brooding on the acacias upon the
island, attract my attention. Egyptian Kingfishers (_Ceryle rudis_, L.)
dart down to the water’s edge, and return holding tiny fishes in their
beaks to their perch above.
The numbers and varieties of birds are in truth almost bewildering to
the spectator. Here is a marabou which has had its midday drink and
is keeping company for the moment with a pair of fine-looking saddled
storks (_Ephippiorhynchus senegalensis_, Shaw); there great regiments
of crested cranes; single specimens of giant heron (_Ardea goliath_,
Cretzschm.) keep on the look-out for fish in a quiet creek; on the
sandbanks, and in among the thickets alongside, a tern (_Œdicnemus
vermiculatus_, Cab.) is enjoying a sense of security. Near it are
gobbling Egyptian geese and small plovers. A great number of cormorants
now fly past, some of them settling on the branches of a tree which has
fallen into the water. They are followed by Tree-geese (_Dendrocygna
viduata_, L.), some plovers and night-herons, numerous sea-swallows
as well as seagulls; snipe (_Gallinago media_, Frisch.), and the
strange painted snipe (_Rostratula bengalensis_, L.), the _Actophylus
africanus_, and marsh-fowl (_Ortygometra pusilla obscura_, Neum.),
spurred lapwing (_Hoplopterus speciosus_, Lcht.), and many other
species. Now there rings out, distinguishable from all the others, the
clear cry--to me already so familiar and so dear--of the screeching
sea-eagle, that most typical frequenter of these riverside regions of
Africa and so well meriting its name. A chorus of voices, a very Babel
of sound, breaks continually upon the ear, for the varieties of small
birds are also well represented in this region. The most beautiful
of all are the cries of the organ-shrike and of the sea-eagle. The
veritable concerts of song, however, that you hear from time to time
are beyond the powers of description, and can only be cherished in the
memory.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
RIVER-BED VEGETATION ON THE VELT.]
There is a glamour about the whole life of the African wonderland that
recalls the forgotten fairy tales of childhood’s days, a sense of
stillness and loveliness. Every curve of the stream tells of secrets
to be unearthed and reveals unsuspected beauties, in the forms and
shapes of the Phœnix palms and all the varieties of vegetation; in the
indescribable tangle of the creepers; in the ever-changing effects
of light and shade; finally in the sudden glimpses into the life of
the animals that here make their home. You see the deep, hollowed-out
passages down to the river that tell of the coming and going of the
hippopotamus and rhinoceros, made use of also by the crocodiles. It is
with a shock of surprise that you see a specimen of our own great red
deer come hither at midday to quench his thirst--a splendid figure,
considerably bigger and stronger than he is to be seen elsewhere. A
herd of wallowing wart-hogs or river-swine will sometimes startle you
into hasty retreat before you realise what they are. The tree-tops
rock under the weight and motion of apes unceasingly scurrying from
branch to branch. Every now and again the eye is caught by the sight of
groups of crocodiles, now basking contentedly in the sun, now betaking
themselves again to the water in that stealthy, sinister, gliding way
of theirs.
Not so long ago the African traveller found such scenes as these along
the banks of every river. Nowadays, too many have been shorn of all
these marvels. Take, for instance, the old descriptions of the Orange
River and of the animal life met with along its course. No trace of it
now remains.
I should like to give a picture of the animal life still extant along
the banks of the Pangani. The time is inevitably approaching when that,
too, will be a thing of the past, for it is not to be supposed that
advancing civilisation will prove less destructive here.
So recently as the year 1896 the course of the river was for the most
part unknown. When I followed it for the second time in 1897, and when
in subsequent years I explored both its banks for great distances,
people were still so much in the dark about it that several expeditions
were sent out to discover whether it was navigable.
That it was not navigable I myself had long known. Its numerous rapids
are impracticable for boats even in the rainy season. In the dry
season they present insuperable obstacles to navigation of any kind.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A FISHERMAN’S BAG! THREE CROCODILES SECURED BY THE AUTHOR IN THE WAY
DESCRIBED IN “WITH FLASHLIGHT AND RIFLE.”]
The basin of the Djipe Lake in the upper reaches of the Pangani, and
the Pangani swamps below its lower reaches, formed a kind of natural
preserve for every variety of the marvellous fauna of East Africa. It
was a veritable El Dorado for the European sportsman, but one attended
by all kinds of perils and difficulties. The explorer found manifold
compensation, however, for everything in the unexampled opportunities
afforded him for the study of wild life in the midst of these stifling
marshes and lagoons. The experience of listening night after night to
the myriad voices of the wilderness is beyond description.
Hippopotami were extraordinarily numerous at one time in the
comparatively small basin of the Djipe Lake. In all my long sojourn
by the banks of the Pangani I only killed two, and I never again went
after any. There were such numbers, however, round Djipe Lake ten years
ago that you often saw dozens of them together at one time. I fear that
by now they have been nearly exterminated.
Here, as everywhere else, the natives have levied but a small tribute
upon the numbers of the wild animals, a tribute in keeping with the
nature of their primitive weapons. Elephants used regularly to make
their way down to the water-side from the Kilimanjaro woods. My old
friend Nguruman, the Ndorobo chieftain, used to lie in wait for them,
with his followers, concealed in the dense woods along the river. But
the time came when the elephants ceased to make their appearance. The
old hunter, whose body bore signs of many an encounter with lions as
well as elephants, and who used often to hold forth to me beside camp
fires on the subject of these adventures, could not make out why his
eagerly coveted quarry had become so scarce. Every other species of
“big game” was well represented, however, and according to the time of
the year I enjoyed ever fresh opportunities for observation. Generally
speaking, it would be a case of watching one aspect of wild life one
day and another all the next, but now and again my eyes and ears would
be surfeited and bewildered by its manifestations. The sketch-plans on
which I used to record my day’s doings and seeings serve now to recall
to me all the multiform experiences that fell to my lot. What a pity it
is that the old explorers of South Africa have left no such memoranda
behind them for our benefit! They would enable us to form a better idea
of things than we can derive from any kind of pictures or descriptions.
* * * * *
I shall try now to give some notion of all the different sights I would
sometimes come upon in a single day. It would often happen that, as I
was making my way down the Pangani in my light folding craft, or else
was setting out for the velt which generally lay beyond its girdle of
brushwood, showers of rain would have drawn herds of elephants down
from the mountains.[1] Even when I did not actually come within sight
of them, it was always an intense enjoyment to me to trace the
immense footsteps of these nocturnal visitors. Perhaps the cunning
animals would have already put several miles between my camp and their
momentary stopping place. But their tracks afforded me always most
interesting clues to their habits, all the more valuable by reason
of the rare chances one has of observing them in daylight, when they
almost always hide away in impenetrable thickets. What excitement there
is in the stifled cry “Tembo!” In a moment your own eye perceives the
unmistakable traces of the giant’s progress. The next thing to do is to
examine into the tracks and ascertain as far as possible the number,
age and sex of the animals. Then you follow them up, though generally,
as I have said, in vain.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
CLATTER-BILLS SETTLING UPON THE BARE BRANCHES OF RIVERSIDE TREES.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
CLATTER-BILLS (_ANASTOMUS LAMELLIGERUS_, Tem.).]
The hunter, however, who without real hope of overtaking the elephants
themselves yet persists in following up their tracks just because
they have so much to tell him, will be all the readier to turn aside
presently, enticed in another direction by the scarcely less notable
traces of a herd of buffaloes. Follow these now and you will soon
discover that they too have found safety, having made their way into an
impenetrable morass. To make sure of this you must perhaps clamber up
a thorny old mimosa tree, all alive with ants--not a very comfortable
method of getting a bird’s-eye view. Numbers of snow-white ox-peckers
flying about over one particular point in the great wilderness of reeds
and rushes betray the spot in which the buffaloes have taken refuge.
The great green expanse stretches out before you monotonously, and
even in the bright sunlight you can see no other sign of the animal
life of various kinds concealed beneath the sea of rushes waving
gently in the breeze. Myriads of insects, especially mosquitoes and
ixodides, attack the invaders; the animals are few that do not fight
shy of these morasses. They are the province of the elephants, which
here enjoy complete security; of the hippopotami, whose mighty voice
often resounds over them by day as by night; of the buffaloes, which
wallow in the mud and pools of water to escape from their enemies the
gadflies; and finally of the waterbuck, which are also able to make
their way through even the deeper regions of the swamp. Wart-hogs
also--the African equivalent of our own wild boars--contrive to
penetrate into these regions, so inhospitable to mankind. We shall find
no other representatives, however, of the big game of Africa. It is
only in Central Africa and in the west that certain species of antelope
frequent the swamps. In the daytime the elephant and the buffalo are
seldom actually to be seen in them, nor does one often catch sight of
the hippopotami, though they are so numerous and their voices are to be
heard. As we grope through the borders of the swamp, curlew (_Glarcola
fusca_, L.) flying hither and thither all around us, we are startled
ever and anon by a sudden rush of bush and reed buck plunging out from
their resting-places and speeding away from us for their life. Even
when quite small antelopes are thus started up by the sound of our
advance, so violent is their flight that for the moment we imagine that
we have to deal with some huge and perhaps dangerous beast.
In those spots where large pools, adorned with wonderful
water-lilies, give a kind of symmetry to the wilderness, we come upon
such a wealth of bird-life as enables us to form some notion of what
this may have been in Europe long ago under similar conditions. The
splendid great white heron (_Herodias alba_, L., and _garzetta_, L.)
and great flocks of the active little cow-herons (_Bubulcus ibis_,
L.) make their appearance in company with sacred ibises and form a
splendid picture in the landscape. Some species of those birds with
their snow-white feathers stand out picturesquely against the rich
green vegetation of the swamp. When, startled by our approach, these
birds take to flight, and the whole air is filled by them and by the
curlews (_Glareola fusca_, L.) that have hovered over us, keeping
up continually their soft call, when in every direction we see all
the swarms of other birds--sea-swallows (_Gelochelidon nilotica_,
Hasselg.), lapwings, plovers (_Charadriidæ_), Egyptian geese, herons,
pelicans, crested cranes and storks--the effect upon our eyes and ears
is almost overpowering.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A MARSHLAND VIEW. AN OSPREY IN AMONG THE REEDS--THE BIRD FOR WHOSE
PROTECTION QUEEN ALEXANDRA OF ENGLAND HAS LATELY PLEADED.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
SNOW-WHITE HERONS MADE THEIR NESTS IN THE ACACIAS NEAR MY CAMP AND
SHOWED NO MARKED TIMIDITY.]
[Illustration: A SINGLE PAIR OF CRESTED CRANES WERE OFTEN TO BE SEEN
NEAR MY CAMP.]
[Illustration: A SNAKE-VULTURE. I SUCCEEDED TWICE ONLY IN SECURING A
PHOTOGRAPH OF THIS BIRD.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
PREPARING TO SKIN A HIPPOPOTAMUS. THE PRESERVATION OF THE HIDE
OF THIS SPECIMEN PROVED UNSUCCESSFUL. IT IS ALMOST IMPOSSIBLE TO
PRESERVE HIPPOPOTAMUS-HIDES WITHOUT HUGE QUANTITIES OF ALUM AND
SALT, BOTH VERY HARD TO GET IN THE INTERIOR OF AFRICA. THE SKIN
OF THE HEAD IS THINNER AND MORE MANAGEABLE THAN THAT OF THE REST
OF THE BODY.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
HIPPOPOTAMI, POPPING THEIR HEADS OR EARS AND SNOUTS UP ABOVE THE
SURFACE OF THE WATER.]
How mortal lives are intertwined and interwoven! The ox-peckers swarm
round the buffaloes and protect them from their pests, the ticks and
other parasites. The small species of marsh-fowl rely upon the warning
cry of the Egyptian geese or on the sharpness of the herons, ever on
the alert and signalling always the lightning-like approach of their
enemy the falcons (_Falco biarmicus_, Tem., and _F. minor_, Bp.). All
alike have sense enough to steer clear of the crocodiles, which have
to look to fish chiefly for their nourishment, like almost all the
frequenters of these marshy regions.
The quantities of fish I have found in every pool in these swamps defy
description--I am anxious to insist upon this point--and this although
almost all the countless birds depend on them chiefly for their food.
Busy beaks and bills ravage every pool and the whole surface of the
lagoon-like swamp for young fish and fry. The herons and darters
(_Assingha rufa_, Lacèp. Daud.) manage even to do some successful
fishing in the deeper waters of the river. _And yet, in spite of all
these fish-eaters, the river harbours almost a superabundance of
fish._[2]
Wandering along by the river, we take in all these impressions. For
experiences of quite another kind, we have only to make for the
neighbouring velt, now arid again and barren, and thence to ascend the
steep ridges leading up to the tableland of Nyíka.
Behind us we leave the marshy region of the river and the morass of
reeds. Before us rises Nyíka, crudely yellow, and the laterite earth
of the velt glowing red under the blazing sun. The contrast is strong
between the watery wilderness from which we have emerged and these
higher ranges of the velt with their strange vegetation. Here we shall
find many species of animals that we should look for in vain down there
below, animals that live differently and on scanty food up here, even
in the dry season. The buffaloes also know where to go for fresh young
grass even when they are in the marshes, and they reject the ripened
green grass. The dwellers on the velt are only to be found amidst the
lush vegetation of the valley at night time, when they make their
way down to the river-side to drink.[3] It is hard to realise, but they
find all the food they need on the high velt. When you examine the
stomachs of wild animals that you have killed, you note with wonder the
amount of fresh grass and nourishing shrubs they have found to eat in
what seem the barrenest districts. The natives of these parts show the
same kind of resourcefulness. The Masai, for instance, succeeds most
wonderfully in providing for the needs of his herds in regions which
the European would call a desert. I doubt whether the European could
ever acquire this gift. Out here on the velt we shall catch sight of
small herds of waterbuck, never to be seen in the marshes. We shall
see at midday, under the bare-looking trees, herds of Grant’s gazelles
too, and the oryx antelope. Herds of gnus, going through with the
strangest antics as they make off in flight, are another feature in
the picture, while the fresh tracks of giraffes, eland, and ostriches
tell of the presence of all these. Wart-hogs, a herd of zebras in the
distance--like a splash of black--two ostrich hens, and a multitude
of small game and birds of all descriptions add to the variety. But
what delights the ornithologist’s eye more than anything is the
charming sight of a golden yellow bird, now mating. Up it flies into
the sky from the tree-top, soon to come down again with wings and tail
outstretched, recalling our own singing birds. You would almost fancy
it was a canary. Only in this one region of the velt have I come upon
this exquisite bird (_Tmetothylacus tenellus_, Cal.), nowhere else.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
HEAD OF A HIPPOPOTAMUS (_HIPPOPOTAMUS AFR. ARYSSINICUS_, Less.) WHICH
I ENCOUNTERED ON DRY LAND AND WHICH NEARLY “DID” FOR ME.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
MY OLD FRIEND “NGURUMAN,” A WANDOROBO CHIEF. HIS BODY IS SEARED BY MANY
SCARS THAT TELL OF ENCOUNTERS WITH ELEPHANTS AND LIONS.]
Thus would I spend day after day, getting to know almost all the wild
denizens of East Africa, either by seeing them in the flesh or by
studying their tracks and traces, cherishing more and more the wish
to be able to achieve some record of all these beautiful phases of
wild life. I repeat: as a rule you will carry away with you but one or
another memory from your too brief day’s wandering, but there come days
when a succession of marvellous pictures seem to be unrolled before
your gaze, as in an endless panorama. It is the experience of one such
day that I have tried here to place on record. Professor Moebius is
right in what he says: “Æsthetic views of animals are based not upon
knowledge of the physiological causes of their forms, colouring, and
methods of motion, but upon the impression made upon the observer
by their various features and outward characteristics as parts of a
harmonious whole. The more the parts combine to effect this unity and
harmony, the more beautiful the animal seems to us.” Similarly, a
landscape seems to me most impressive and harmonious when it retains
all its original elements. No section of its flora or fauna can be
removed without disturbing the harmony of the whole.
Within a few years, if this be not actually the case already, all that
I have here described so fully will no longer be in existence along the
banks of the Pangani. When I myself first saw these things, often my
thoughts went back to those distant ages when in the lands now known
as Germany the same description of wild life was extant in
the river valleys, when hippopotami made their home in the Rhine and
Main, and elephants and rhinoceroses still flourished.... What I saw
there before me in the flesh I learnt to see with my mind’s eye in the
long-forgotten past. It is the duty of any one whose good fortune it
has been to witness such scenes of charm and loveliness to endeavour to
leave some record of them as best he may, and by whatever means he has
at his command.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
EGYPTIAN GEESE.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A WOUNDED BUFFALO.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
FACSIMILE REPRODUCTION OF ONE OF MY HUNTING RECORD-CARDS,
ENUMERATING ALL THE DIFFERENT ANIMALS I SIGHTED ONE DAY (AUGUST
21, 1898) IN THE COURSE OF AN EXPEDITION IN THE VICINITY OF THE
MASIMANI HILLS, HALF-WAY UP THE PANGANI RIVER. THE DOTTED LINE
SHOWS MY ROUTE AND THE NUMBERS INDICATE THE SPOTS AT WHICH I CAME
UPON THE VARIOUS SPECIES OF GAME. AT ANOTHER TIME OF THE YEAR
THIS DISTRICT WOULD BE ENTIRELY DESTITUTE OF WILD LIFE.]
[Illustration: A SEA-GULL.]
[Illustration: A MASAI THROWING HIS SPEAR.]
IX
After Elephants with Wandorobo
“Big game hunting is a fine education!” With this opinion of Mr. H. A.
Bryden I am in entire agreement, but I cannot assent to the dictum so
often cited of some of the most experienced African hunters, to the
effect that Equatorial East Africa offers the sportsman no adequate
compensation for all the difficulties and dangers there to be faced.
I cannot subscribe to this view, because to my mind these very
difficulties and dangers impart to the sport of this region a
fascination scarcely to be equalled in any other part of the world.
It is only in tropical Africa that you will find the last splendid
specimens of an order of wild creation surviving from other eras of
the earth’s history. It is not to be denied that you must pay a high
price for the joy of hunting them. That goes without saying in a
country where your every requisite, great and small, has to be carried
on men’s shoulders--no other form of transport being available--from
the moment you set foot within the wilderness. I am not now talking of
quite short expeditions, but of the bigger enterprises which take the
traveller into the interior for a period of months. I hold that this
breaking away from all the resources of civilised life should be one
of the sportsman’s chief incentives, and one of his chief enjoyments.
I can, of course, quite understand experienced hunters taking another
view. Many have had such serious encounters with the big game they have
shot, and above all such unfortunate experiences of African climates,
that they may well have had enough of such drawbacks.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A POWERFUL OLD HIPPOPOTAMUS ON HIS WAY TO HIS HAUNT IN THE SWAMP AT
DAYBREAK. ONE OF MY BEST PHOTOGRAPHS. ]
Their assertions, in any case, tend to make it clear that sport in this
East African wilderness is no child’s play. In reality, all depends
upon the character and equipment of the man who goes in for it. The
apparently difficult game of tennis presents no difficulties to the
expert tennis-player. With an inferior player it is otherwise. So it is
in regard to hunting in the tropics. It is obvious that experience in
sport here at home is of the greatest possible use out there--is, in
fact, absolutely essential to one’s success. Only those should attempt
it who are prepared to do everything and cope with all obstacles for
themselves, who do not need to rely on others, and whose nerves are
proof against the extraordinary excitements and strains which out there
are your daily experience.
I myself am conscious of a steadily increasing distaste for
face-to-face encounters with rhinoceroses, and with elephants still
more. There are indeed other denizens of the East African jungle
whose defensive and offensive capabilities it would be no less a
mistake to under estimate. The most experienced and most authoritative
Anglo-Saxon sportsmen are, in fact, agreed that, whether it be a
question of going-after lions or leopards or African buffaloes, sooner
or later the luck goes against the hunter. Of recent years a large
number of good shots have lost their lives in Africa. If one of these
animals once gets at you, you are as good as dead. To be chased by an
African elephant is as exciting a sensation as a man could wish for.
The fierceness of his on-rush passes description. He makes for you
suddenly, unexpectedly. The overpowering proportions of the enraged
beast--the grotesque aspect of his immense flapping ears, which make
his huge head look more formidable than ever--the incredible pace at
which he thunders along--all combine with his shrill trumpeting to
produce an effect upon the mind of the hunter, now turned quarry, which
he will never shake himself rid of as long as life lasts. When--as
happened once to me--it is a case not of one single elephant, but
of an entire herd giving chase in the open plain (as described in
_With Flashlight and Rifle_), the reader will have no difficulty in
understanding that even now I sometimes live the whole situation over
again in my dreams and that I have more than once awoke from them in a
frenzy of terror.
Of course, a man becomes hardened in regard to hunting accidents in
course of time, especially if all his adventures have had fortunate
issues. When, however, a man has repeatedly escaped destruction by a
hairs-breadth only, and when incidents of this kind have been
heaped up one on another within a brief space of time, the effects
upon the nervous system become so great that even with the utmost
self-mastery a man ceases to be able to bear them. As I have already
said, the total number of casualties in the ranks of African sportsmen
is not inconsiderable.
[Illustration: ORYX ANTELOPE BULL, NOT YET AWARE OF MY APPROACH.]
[Illustration: A HERD OF ORYX ANTELOPES (_ORIX CALLOTIS_, Thos.),
CALLED BY THE COAST-FOLK “CHIROA.”]
[Illustration: WATERBUCK. THEY SOMETIMES LOOK QUITE BLACK, AS THIS
PHOTOGRAPH SUGGESTS. IT DEPENDS UPON THE LIGHT.]
[Illustration: HEAD OF A BULL WATERBUCK (_COBUS ELLIPSIPRYMNUS_,
Ogilb.).]
In Germany, of course, we have time-honoured sports of a dangerous
nature too, but these are exceptions--for instance, killing the wild
boar with a spear, and mountain-climbing and stalking.
In order to understand fully the mental condition of the sportsman in
dangerous circumstances such as I have described, it is necessary to
realise the way in which he is affected by his loneliness, his complete
severance from the rest of mankind. There is all the difference in
the world between the situation of a number of men taking up a post
of danger side by side, and that of the man who stands by himself,
either at the call of duty or impelled by a sense of daring. He has to
struggle with thoughts and fears against which the others are sustained
by mutual example and encouragement.
But, as I have said, the great fascination of sport in the tropics lies
precisely in the dangers attached. Therein, too, lies the source of
that pluck and vigour which the sport-hardened Boers displayed in their
struggles with the English. The perils they had faced in their pursuit
of big game had made brave men of them.
* * * * *
Now let us set out in company with the most expert hunters of the velt
on an expedition of a rather special kind--the most dangerous you can
go in for in this part of the world--an elephant-hunt. In prehistoric
days the mammoth was hunted with bow and arrow in almost the same
fashion as the elephant is to-day by certain tribes of natives.
Taking part in one of their expeditions, one feels it easy to go back
in imagination to the early eras of mankind. This feeling imparts a
peculiar fascination to the experience.
After a good deal of trouble I had got into friendly relations with
some of these nomadic hunters. It was a difficult matter, because they
fight shy of Europeans and of the natives from the coast, such as my
bearers and followers generally. I knew, moreover, that our friendship
might be of short duration, for these distrustful children of the
velt might disappear at any moment, leaving not a trace behind them.
However, I had at least succeeded, by promises of rich rewards in the
shape of iron and brass wire, in winning their goodwill. After many
days of negotiation they told me that elephants might very likely be
met with shortly in a certain distant part of the velt. The region in
question was impracticable for a large caravan. Water is very scarce
there, rock pools affording only enough for a few men, and only for a
short time. At this period of the year the animals had either to make
incredibly long journeys to their drinking-places, or else content
themselves with the fresh succulent grass sprouting up after the rains,
and with the moisture in the young leaves of the trees and bushes.
I set out one day in the early morning for this locality with a few of
my men in company with the Wandorobo. After a long and fatiguing
march in the heat of the sun, we encamp in the evening at one of the
watering-places. To-day, to my surprise, there is quite a large supply
of water, owing to rain last night. The elephants, with their unfailing
instinct, have discovered the precious liquid. They have not merely
drunk in the pool, but have also enjoyed a bath; their tracks and the
colour and condition of the water show that clearly. Therefore we do
not pitch our camp near the pool, but out in the velt at some distance
away, so as not to interfere with the elephants in case they should be
moved to return to the water.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
MY WANDOROBO GUIDES ON THE MARCH, WITH ALL THEIR “HOUSEHOLD FURNITURE”
ON THEIR BACKS!]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A PARTY OF WANDOROBO HUNTERS COMING TO MY CAMP. I GOT SEVERAL OF THEM
TO ACT FOR ME AS GUIDES.]
But the wily beasts do not come a second time, and we are obliged to
await morning to follow their tracks in the hope of luck. The Wandorobo
on ahead, I and two of my men following, make up the small caravan,
while some of my other followers remain behind at the watering-place
in a rough camp. I have provided myself with all essentials for two
or three days, including a supply of water contained in double-lined
water-tight sacks. For hour after hour we follow the tracks clearly
defined upon the still damp surface of the velt. Presently they lead us
through endless stretches of shrubs and acacia bushes and bow-string
hemp, then through the dried-up beds of rain-pools now sprouting here
and there with luxuriant vegetation. Then again we come to stretches of
scorched grass, featureless save for the footsteps of the elephants. As
we advance I am enabled to note how the animals feed themselves in this
desert-like region, from which they never wander any great distance.
Here, stamping with their mighty feet, they have smashed some young
tree-trunks and shorn them of their twigs and branches; and there,
with their trunks and tusks, they have torn the bark off larger trees
in long strips or wider slices and consumed them. I observe, too, that
they have torn the long sword-shaped hemp-stalks out of the ground,
and after chewing them have dropped the fibres gleaming white where
they lie in the sun. The sap in this plant is clearly food as well as
drink to them. I see, too, that at certain points the elephants have
gathered together for a while under an acacia tree, and have broken and
devoured all its lower branches and twigs. At other places it is clear
that they have made a longer halt, from the way in which the vegetation
all around has been reduced to nothing. We go on and on, the mighty
footsteps keeping us absorbed and excited. We know that the chances
are all against our overtaking the elephants, but the pleasures of the
chase are enough to keep up our zest. At any moment, perhaps, we may
come up with our gigantic fugitives. Perhaps!
How different is the elephant’s case in Africa from what it is in India
and Ceylon! In India it is almost a sacred animal; in Ceylon it is
carefully guarded, and there is no uncertainty as to the way in which
it will be killed. Here in Africa, however, its lot is to be the most
sought-after big game on the face of the earth; but the hunter has to
remember that he may be “hoist with his own petard,” for the elephant
is ready for the fray and knows what awaits him. With these thoughts in
my mind and the way clearer at every step, the Wandorobo move on and on
unceasingly in front.
It is astonishing what a small supply of arms and utensils these
sons of the velt take with them when starting out for journeys over
Nyíka that may take weeks or months. Round their shoulders they carry
a soft dressed skin, and, hung obliquely, a strap to which a few
implements are attached, as well as a leathern pouch containing odds
and ends. Their bow they hold in one hand, while their quivers, filled
with poisoned arrows, are also fastened to their shoulders by a strap.
In addition they carry a sword in a primitive kind of scabbard. Thus
equipped they are ready to cope with all the dangers and discomforts of
the velt, and succeed somehow in coming out of them victorious.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A FEAST OF HONEY. A HONEY-FINDER HAD LED US TO A HIVE, AND HERE MY MEN
MAY BE SEEN REJOICING IN THE RESULTS.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
ACACIA TREE DENUDED BY ELEPHANTS.]
[Illustration: AN ORYX ANTELOPE’S METHODS OF DEFENCE.]
[Illustration:
A DWARF KUDU (_STREPSICEROS IMBERBIS_, Blyth). I HAVE NEVER YET
SUCCEEDED IN PHOTOGRAPHING THIS ANIMAL ALIVE AND IN FREEDOM. SO
FAR I HAVE BEEN ABLE TO PHOTOGRAPH ONLY SPECIMENS WHICH I HAVE
SHOT.]
How thoroughly the velt is known to them--every corner of it! To
live on the velt for any time you must be adapted by nature to its
conditions. We Europeans should find it as hard to become acclimatised
to it as the Wandorobo would to the conditions of civilised life
in Europe. The one thing they are like us in being unable to forego
is water--and even that they can do without for longer than we can.
The most important factor in their life as hunters is their knowledge
where to get water at the different periods of the year. Their
intimate acquaintance with the book of the velt is something beyond
our faculty for reading print. Our experiences in our recent campaigns
in South-West Africa have served to bring home the wonderful way in
which the natives decipher and interpret the minutest indications to be
found in the ground of the velt and know how to shape their course in
accordance with them.
[Illustration: ZEBRAS.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
GIRAFFE STUDIES (_GIRAFFA SCHILLINGSI_, Mtsch.) SECURED BY
TELEPHOTO-LENS.]
[Illustration: ZEBRAS (_EQUUS BOHMI_) OUT ON THE OPEN VELT.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
MY MASAI DONKEYS ARRIVING IN CAMP, ESCORTED BY ARMED MEN. BEARERS
ADVANCING TO MEET THEM AND TO UNBURDEN THEM OF THEIR LOADS.]