On leaving the "drift" where they had crossed the Orange River, our
hunters "treked" in a north-easterly direction. Had they gone due north
they would soon have reached the rim of the Great Kalihari Desert--the
Saara of Southern Africa. Of course they could not have penetrated
this, and would necessarily have been compelled to head in a new
direction, either to the east or west. But they had long since
determined on an easterly course, as the region lying to the eastward of
the desert had the reputation of being a grand country for the large
animals--the buffalo, the elephant, and the camelopard; and the rivers
in that part were filled with huge sea-cows (hippopotami) and gigantic
crocodiles. That was the very country the young yagers wanted to be in.
They were not travelling without a guide. Congo was their guide. He
knew every inch of the route. He had promised to bring them into a
country abounding in elephants and giraffes; and no doubt was
entertained that the Kaffir would keep his promise.
Next day they were on the move at an early hour. They made a long day's
march, and, halting a little before sunset, outspanned in a grove of
mokhala-trees, standing upon the very edge of a bleak desert, that
stretched before them as far as they could see,--and indeed much
further. This desert had a very arid and parched appearance, the only
vegetation upon it being solitary plants of the arborescent aloe, with
its large coral-red flower-spike, palm-like zamias, some species of
cactus-like euphorbias, and here and there small clumps of _Acacia
horrida_, or "wait-a-bit" thorns, as these bushes are jocosely termed,
from the disposition of their curved spines to hook upon the clothes of
any one passing them.
Both plants and bushes grew far apart, and wide tracts of the plain
appeared without even any of these to vary its brown monotony. It was a
sort of outlying spur of the Kalihari Desert, and they would have to
cross it before they should reach the country promised by their guide.
There would be _fifty_ miles without vley, spring, or stream--_fifty_
miles from water to water.
They had outspanned by the last spring, which gurgled out among the
roots of the mokhala-trees upon the very edge of the desert. There they
intended remaining for a couple of days to dry the flesh of the
gemsboks, and also to recruit their animals and prepare them for the
long waterless journey of the desert,--a perilous passage.
It was near sunset when they had finished "outspanning," having formed
their camp in the centre of the mokhala grove, and not far from the
spring.
Hans, in a contemplative mood, had wandered to the edge of the grove;
and, seating himself under one of the trees, whose full umbrella-like
top cast a fine shade, was gazing out upon the wide treeless waste.
He had not been long in this situation, when his attention was attracted
to three upright forms that appeared upon the plain at the distance of
some hundred yards from the grove. They were bipeds, for he saw them
from head to heel. Not human bipeds, however, but birds. They were
_ostriches_.
The merest child could have told that much--anybody--for who does not
recognise the great African ostrich at the first glance? The size and
form of the _Struthio camelus_ are too peculiar to admit of its being
taken for any other bird. The American "rhea," or the Australian
"emeu," might pass for its half-grown young, but a full-sized African
ostrich is not to be mistaken for any of its pigmy relatives, either in
Australia, New Zealand, the Indian archipelago, or America. It is the
great bird of birds--the biggest that carries feathers.
Of course Hans knew the three to be ostriches the moment his eye rested
upon them--a cock and two hens. This was easily told, for there is as
much difference between the male and female of these birds, as between
the brilliant peacock and his dingy spouse. The greater size of the
former; the deep black colour of his body contrasting strongly with the
snow-white plumes of his wings and tail,--and in the desert these _are_
snow-white--distinguish him at once from his female companions. Their
colour is a nearly uniform greyish brown, and they want those splendid
jet and snowy plumes that adorn the back of their lord and master, and
which have been from all time so highly prized as ornaments by both
savage and civilised people.
A cock and two hens they were, that presented themselves before the eyes
of the young naturalist.
They were marching slowly along. They were not affrighted. They
evidently had seen nothing of the camp. How could they, as it was
behind the trees in the centre of the grove? They occasionally bent
their long necks to one side or the other, and cropped a leaf, or picked
up a seed, but then continued their course. From their following a
straight line Hans concluded they were not feeding in the regular way,
but bent towards some point, perhaps to their night resting-place.
When first observed, they were coming in a side direction, that is,
transversely to the direction in which Hans himself was facing. In a
short time they had passed before him, and were now widening the
distance, and getting farther off into the desert.
Hans at first thought of calling to the others, who were all busy about
the wagons, and had not seen the ostriches. He was thinking also of
some plan by which the birds might be captured or killed.
After a moment's consideration, he gave up the idea of either one thing
or the other. The sight of an ostrich was nothing new to any of the
party. Jan and Klaas might have cared for it, but both were tired after
their long hot ride, and had already fallen asleep on the grass. Better
not disturb them, thought Hans.
As to the killing or capturing the ostriches, after a moment's
reflection, Hans also gave up that design. The birds were already
passing--to have stalked within shot upon the naked plain would have
been impossible, for Hans well knew the wary nature of the ostrich; and
to have attempted a chase with their tired horses would have been
equally idle.
Hans, therefore, held his peace, and sat still; following with his eyes
the retreating forms of the three great camel-birds.
Their long strides soon carried them far off, but before they had
receded half-a-mile, the eyes of the naturalist were removed from them,
and turned on a different object.