Of all the family Hendrik was the hunter _par excellence_. It was he
who habitually stored the larder; and upon days when they were not
engaged in the chase of the elephant, Hendrik would be abroad alone in
pursuit of antelopes, and other creatures, that furnished their usual
subsistence. Hendrik kept the table well supplied.
Antelopes are the principal game of South Africa--for Africa is the
country of the antelope above all others. You may be surprised to hear
that there are _seventy different species of antelopes_ over all the
earth--that more than fifty of these are African, and that thirty at
least belong to South Africa--that is, the portion of the continent
lying between the Cape of Good Hope and the Tropic of Capricorn.
It would require the space of a whole book, therefore, to give a fair
account--a monograph--of the antelopes alone; and I cannot afford that
space here. At present I can only say that Africa is the great antelope
country, although many fine species exist also in Asia--that in America
there is but one kind, the _prong-horn_, with which you are already well
acquainted--and that in Europe there are two, though one of these, the
well-known "chamois," is as much goat as antelope.
I shall farther remark, that the seventy species of animals, by
naturalists classed as antelopes, differ widely from one another in
form, size, colour, pelage, habits; in short, in so many respects, that
their classification under the name of _Antelope_ is very arbitrary
indeed. Some approximate closely to the goat tribe; others are more
like deer; some resemble oxen; others are closely allied to the buffalo;
while a few species possess many of the characteristics of wild sheep!
As a general thing, however, they are more like to deer than any other
animals; and many species of them are, in common parlance, called deer.
Indeed, many antelopes are more like to certain species of deer than to
others of their own kind. The chief distinction noted between them and
the deer is, that the antelopes have _horny_ horns, that are persistent
or permanent, while those of the deer are osseous or _bony_, and are
annually cast.
Like the deer the different species of antelopes possess very different
habits. Some frequent the wide open plains; some the deep forest; some
wander by the shady banks of streams; while others love to dwell upon
the rocky steep, or the dry ravines of the mountains. Some browse upon
the grass; while others, goat-like, prefer the leaves and tender twigs
of trees. In fact, so different are these creatures in habits, that
whatever be the natural character of a district of country, it will be
found the favourite home of one or more species. Even the very desert
has its antelopes, that prefer the parched and waterless plain to the
most fertile and verdant valley.
Of all antelopes the "eland," or "caana" (_Antelope oreas_) is the
largest. It measures full seventeen hands at the shoulder--being thus
equal in height to a very large horse. A large eland weighs one
thousand pounds. It is a heavily formed animal, and an indifferent
runner, as a mounted hunter can gallop up to one without effort. Its
general proportions are not unlike those of a common ox, but its horns
are straight and rise vertically from the crown, diverging only slightly
from one another. These are two feet in length, and marked by a ridge
that passes spirally around them nearly to the tips. The horns of the
female are longer than those of the male.
The eyes of the eland, like those of most antelopes, are large, bright,
and melting, without any expression of fierceness; and the animal,
though so very large and strong, is of the most innocuous disposition--
showing fight only when driven to desperation.
The general colour of this antelope is dun, with a rufous tinge.
Sometimes ashy grey touched with ochre is the prevailing hue.
The eland is one of those antelopes that appear to be independent of
water. It is met with upon the desert plains, far from either spring or
stream; and it even seems to prefer such situations--perhaps from the
greater security it finds there--though it is also a denizen of the
fertile and wooded districts. It is gregarious, the sexes herding
separately, and in groups of from ten to a hundred individuals.
The flesh of the eland is highly esteemed, and does not yield in
delicacy to that of any of the antelope, deer, or bovine tribes. It has
been compared to tender beef with a _game flavour_; and the muscles of
the thighs when cured and dried produce a _bonne bouche_, known under
the odd appellation of "thigh-tongues."
Of course the eland affording such excellent meat, and in so large a
quantity, is zealously hunted for his spoils. Being only a poor runner
and always very fat, the hunt is usually a short one; and ends in the
eland being shot down, skinned, and cut up. There is no great
excitement about this chase, except that it is not every day an eland
can be started. The ease with which they can be captured, as well as
the value of their venison, has led to the thinning off of these
antelopes; and it is only in remote districts where a herd of them can
be found.
Now since their arrival, no elands had been seen, though now and then
their spoor was observed; and Hendrik, for several reasons, was very
desirous of getting one. He had never shot an eland in his life--that
was one reason--and another was, that he wished to procure a supply of
the fine venison which lies in such quantities over the ribs of these
animals.
It was, therefore, with great delight, that Hendrik one morning received
the report that a herd of elands had been seen upon the upper plain, and
not far off. Swartboy, who had been upon the cliffs, brought this
report to camp.
Without losing any more time than sufficed to get the direction from
Swartboy, Hendrik mounted his quagga, shouldered his rifle, and rode off
in search of the herd.
Not far from the camp there was an easy pass, leading up the cliff to
the plain above. It was a sort of gorge or ravine; and from the
numerous tracks of animals in its bottom, it was evidently much used as
a road from the upper plain to that in which were the spring and stream.
Certain animals, such as the zebras and quaggas, and others that
frequent the dry desert plains from preference, were in the habit of
coming by this path when they required water.
Up the gorge rode Hendrik; and no sooner had he arrived at its top, than
he discovered the herd of elands--seven old bulls--about a mile off upon
the upper plain.
There was not cover enough to have sheltered a fox. The only growth
near the spot where the elands were, consisted of straggling
aloe-plants, euphorbias, with some stunted bushes, and tufts of dry
grass, characteristic of the desert. There was no clump large enough to
have sheltered a hunter from the eye of his game; and Hendrik at once
came to the conclusion, that the elands could not be "stalked" in the
situation they then occupied.
Now, though Hendrik had never hunted this antelope, he was well
acquainted with its habits, and knew how it ought to be chased. He knew
that it was a bad runner; that any old horse could bring up with it; and
that his quagga--the fastest of the four that had been tamed--could do
the same.
It was only a question of "start," therefore. Could he get near enough
the bulls to have a fair start, he would run one of them down to a
certainty. The result might be different should the elands take the
alarm at a long distance off, and scour away over the plain.
To get within fair starting distance, that was the point to be
attempted.
But Hendrik was a wary hunter, and soon accomplished this. Instead of
riding direct for the elands, he made a grand circuit--until he had got
the herd between him and the cliff--and then, heading his quagga for
them, he rode quietly forward.
He did not sit erect in the saddle, but held himself bent down, until
his breast almost touched the withers of the quagga. This he did to
deceive the elands, who would otherwise have recognised him as an enemy.
In such a fashion they could not make out what kind of creature was
coming towards them; but stood for a long while gazing at Hendrik and
his quagga with feelings of curiosity, and of course some little alarm.
They, however, permitted the hunter to get within five hundred yards
distance--near enough for him--before they broke off in their heavy
lumbering gallop.
Hendrik now rose in his saddle, put spurs to his quagga, and followed
the herd at full speed.
As he had designed, so it came to pass. The elands ran straight in the
direction of the cliff--not where the pass was, but where there was
none--and, on reaching the precipice, were of course forced to turn into
a new direction, transverse to their former one. This gave Hendrik the
advantage, who, heading his quagga diagonally, was soon upon the heels
of the herd.
It was Hendrik's intention to single out one of the bulls, and run him
down--leaving the others to gallop off wherever they wished.
His intention was carried out; for shortly after, the fattest of the
bulls shot to one side, as if to escape in that way, while the rest ran
on.
The bull was not so cunning as he thought himself. Hendrik's eye was
upon him; and in a moment the quagga was turned upon his track.
Another burst carried both game and pursuer nearly a mile across the
plain. The eland had turned from a rufous dun colour to that of a
leaden blue; the saliva fell from his lips in long streamers, foam
dappled his broad chest, the tears rolled out of his big eyes, and his
gallop became changed to a weary trot. He was evidently "blown."
In a few minutes more the quagga was close upon his heels; and then the
huge antelope, seeing that farther running could not serve him, halted
in despair, and faced round towards his pursuer.
Now Hendrik had his loaded rifle in his hand, and you expect to hear
that he instantly raised it to his shoulder, took aim, fired, and
brought down the eland.