"JERKING" AN ELEPHANT.
Next day was one of severe, but joyful labour. It was spent in "curing"
the elephant, not in a _medical_ sense, but in the language of the
provision-store.
Although not equal to either beef or mutton, or even pork, the flesh of
the elephant is sufficiently palatable to be eaten. There is no reason
why it should not be, for the animal is a clean feeder, and lives
altogether on vegetable substances--the leaves and tender shoots of
trees, with several species of bulbous roots, which he well knows how to
extract from the ground with his tusks and trunk. It does not follow
from this that his _beef_ should be well tasted--since we see that the
hog, one of the most unclean of feeders, yields most delicious "pork;"
while another of the same family (_pachydermatii_) that subsists only on
sweet succulent roots, produces a flesh both insipid and bitter. I
allude to the South American tapir. The quality of the food, therefore,
is no criterion of the quality of the flesh.
It is true that the beef of the elephant was not what Von Bloom and most
of his family would have chosen for their regular diet. Had they been
sure of procuring a supply of antelope venison, the great carcass might
have gone, not to the "dogs," but to their kindred the hyenas. But they
were not sure of getting even a single antelope, and therefore decided
upon "curing" the elephant. It would be a safe stock to have on hand,
and need not interfere with their eating venison, or any other dainty
that might turn up.
The first thing done was to cut out the tusks. This proved a tough job,
and occupied full two hours. Fortunately there was a good axe on hand.
But for this and Swartboy's knowledge, double the time might have been
wasted in the operation.
The ivory having been extracted and put away in a safe place, the
"cutting up" then commenced in earnest. Von Bloom and Swartboy were the
"baas-butchers," while Hans and Hendrik played the part of "swabs." As
the carcass lay half under water, they would have had some difficulty in
dealing with the under part. But this they did not design to touch.
The upper half would be amply sufficient to provision them a long while;
and so they set about removing the skin from that side that was
uppermost.
The rough thick outer coat they removed in broad sheets cut into
sections; and then they peeled off several coats of an under-skin, of
tough and pliant nature. Had they needed water-vessels, Swartboy would
have saved this for making them--as it is used for such purposes by the
Bushmen and other natives. But they had vessels enough in the wagon,
and this skin was thrown away.
They had now reached the pure flesh, which they separated in large
sheets from the ribs; and then the ribs were cut out, one by one, with
the axe. This trouble they would not have taken--as they did not want
the ribs--but they cut them away for another reason, namely, to enable
them to get at the valuable fat, which lies in enormous quantities
around the intestines. Of course for all cooking purposes, the fat
would be to them invaluable, and indeed almost necessary to render the
flesh itself eatable.
It is no easy matter to get at the fat in the inside of an elephant, as
the whole of the intestines have first to be removed. But Swartboy was
not to be deterred by a little trouble; so _climbing into the interior_
of the huge carcass, he commenced cutting and delving, and every now and
then passing a multitude of "inwards" out to the others, who carried
them off out of the way.
After a long spell of this work, the fat was secured, and carefully
packed in a piece of clean under-skin; and then the "butchering" was
finished.
Of course the four feet, which along with the trunk are considered the
"tit-bits," had already been separated at the fetlock joint; and stood
out upon the bank, for the future consideration of Swartboy.
The next thing to be done was to "cure" the meat. They had a stock of
suit--that precious, though, as lately discovered, _not_ indispensable
article. But the quantity--stowed away in a dry corner of the wagon--
was small, and would have gone but a short way in curing an elephant.
They had no idea of using it for such a purpose. Flesh can be preserved
without salt; and not only Swartboy, but Von Bloom himself, knew how to
preserve it. In all countries where salt is scarce, the process of
"jerking" meat is well understood, and consists simply in cutting it
into thin strips and hanging it out in the sun. A few days of bright
warm sunshine will "jerk" it sufficiently; and meat thus dried will keep
good for months. A slow fire will answer the purpose nearly as well;
and in the absence of sunshine, the fire is often resorted to.
Sun-dried meat in South Africa is called "biltongue." The Spaniards of
Mexico name it "tasajo," while those of Peru style it "charqui." In
English it is "jerked" meat.
Several hours were spent in cutting the elephant-beef into strips, and
then a number of forked poles were set up, others were laid horizontally
over the forks, and upon these the meat was suspended, and hung down in
numberless festoons.
Before the sun went down, the neighbourhood of the camp presented a rare
appearance. It looked somewhat like the enclosure of a yarn-bleacher,
except that the hanging strips, instead of being white, were of a
beautiful clear ruby colour.
But the work was not yet completed. The feet remained to be
"preserved," and the mode of curing these was entirely different. That
was a secret known only to Swartboy, and in the execution of it the
Bushman played first fiddle, with the important air of a _chef de
cuisine_. He proceeded as follows:--
He first dug a hole in the ground, about two feet deep, and a little
more in diameter--just large enough to admit one of the feet, which was
nearly two feet diameter at the base. The earth which came out of this
hole Swartboy placed in the form of a loose embankment around the edge.
By his direction the boys had already collected upon the spot a large
quantity of dried branches and logs. These Swartboy now built over the
hole, into a pyramid of ten feet high, and then set the pile on fire.
He next proceeded to make three other pits precisely similar, and built
over each a fire like the first, until four large fires were burning
upon the ground.
The fires being now fairly under way, he could only wait until each had
burned down. This would carry the process into the night, and so it
turned out; but Swartboy had a foresight of this. He knew he would get
through with the more important portion of his work before bedtime.
When the first fire had burned quite to red cinders, Swartboy's hardest
turn of duty began. With a shovel he lifted the cinders out of the
hole, until it was empty; but he was more than an hour in performing
this apparently simple labour. The difficulty arose from the intense
heat he had to encounter, which drove him back after every few moments'
work; so that he was compelled to retreat at intervals in order to cool
himself.
The "baas," as well as Hendrik and Hans, took turns with him, until all
four were perspiring as if they had been shut up for half-an-hour in a
baker's oven.
When the hole was thoroughly scooped clean of coals, Swartboy, assisted
by Von Bloom, lifted one of the huge feet; and, carrying it as near as
they dare go on account of the scorching heat, they dropped it in upon
its base.
The sandy earth which had been originally removed, and which was now as
hot as molten lead, was pushed over, and around the foot; and then the
cinders were raked on top, and over that another huge fire was kindled.
The same process was gone through with the other three feet, and all
four were to be left in the "oven" until the fires should be burned
down, when they would be found sufficiently baked.
Swartboy would then rake off the cinders, take out the feet with a sharp
wooden spit, beat them well to get rid of the dust, scrape the sand
clear, then pare off the outside skin, when they would be ready either
to be eaten or would keep for a long time.
Swartboy would do all this as soon as the four huge bonfires should burn
down.
But that would not be before the morning; so all of them, fatigued by
the extraordinary exertions of the day, finished their suppers of
broiled trunk, and went to rest under the protecting shadow of the
nwana.