NOTES ON WILD DOGS AND CHETAHS
Wild dogs not very numerous--Hunt in packs--Attack herd of
buffaloes--First experience with wild dogs--Impala antelope
killed--Koodoo cow driven into shed--Koodoo driven to
waggon--Wild dogs not dangerous to human beings--Greatly feared
by all antelopes--Wild dog pursuing sable antelope--Great pace
displayed--Wild dogs capable of running down every kind of African
antelope--General opinion as to the running powers of wild
dogs--Curious incidents--Chasing wild dogs with tame ones--One
wild dog galloped over and shot--Two others caught and worried
by tame dogs--Wild dog shamming dead--Clever escape--Chetahs
overtaken on horseback--Three chetahs seen--Two females
passed--Male galloped down--A second chetah overtaken--Great speed
of trained Indian chetahs--Three chetah cubs found--Brought up by
bitch.
I do not think that the Cape hunting dog (_Lycaon pictus_) was ever
very numerous in the interior of South Africa, as at the time when I
was elephant-hunting, many years ago, and continually moving about,
day after day and year after year, in countries where game was
plentiful, I never encountered more than two or three packs of these
animals in a year's wanderings, and there were several years--not
consecutive--during which I did not meet with any at all. So far as
my memory serves me, I think that the wild dogs I came across--with
the exception of a single animal which was chasing a sable antelope
bull--were in packs of from fifteen to thirty.
At times I have come across these animals lying in the shade of
scattered trees, on bare ground, from which all the grass had been
burnt off, and they would then trot away, continually stopping and
looking back, but making no sound. But I can remember distinctly two
occasions on which I suddenly disturbed a pack of wild dogs in longish
grass. On both these occasions they were very near to me, but could not
very well make me out, owing to the length of the grass. They retreated
very slowly, and kept jumping up, looking at me inquisitively, with
their large ears cocked forward. At the same time they gave vent to a
kind of bark, the sound being repeated twice. This double note might be
represented by the syllables "hoo-hoo."
On one of these two occasions which I say I remember so well, I was
hunting--in 1873--in the country about half-way between Bulawayo and
the Victoria Falls, not very far, I fancy, from the present railway
line. After a long march I had reached a swampy valley--then known
by the name of Dett--where there was water, and where I intended to
camp. Seeing some buffaloes drinking a little way down the valley,
and wanting some fresh meat, I at once proceeded to stalk them. The
stream at which the buffaloes were drinking ran down the centre of an
open valley some 300 yards broad, in which there was no cover, except
that afforded by coarse grass, some 2-1/2 feet to 3 feet in length.
Being armed with only an old muzzle-loading four-bore gun, I had to get
pretty close to anything I wanted to shoot, and I had crawled half-way
to the buffaloes when I saw them all suddenly raise their heads and
look down the valley. I immediately looked in the same direction, and
then heard a heavy trampling noise, which I knew must be caused by a
herd of large animals running.
This noise came rapidly nearer, and on raising myself so that I
could look over the grass, I saw a herd of perhaps forty or fifty
buffaloes coming straight towards me at a lumbering gallop. At the
same time I heard a noise which sounded like kak-kak-kak constantly
repeated. The buffaloes came straight on towards me, and had I remained
quiet would have run right over me, so when they were within twenty
yards I jumped up and shouted. The leaders stopped for a moment, and
then, swerving slightly, dashed close past me. I fired into one of
them, and immediately afterwards saw some wild dogs--a pack of about
twenty--jumping up in the long grass to look at me.
They had been hanging on to the rear of the herd of buffaloes, which
they had undoubtedly first put to flight, and had they not been
disturbed, would, I think, have probably succeeded in pulling down a
young animal. Had I not witnessed this incident with my own eyes, I
never should have thought it possible that a herd of buffaloes would
have allowed themselves to be stampeded by a few wild dogs. These
latter gave up the chase as soon as they saw me, and after hoo-hooing a
little, trotted off. The barking hoo-hoo and the clacking kak-kak-kak
are the only sounds that I have ever heard wild dogs make, but I
cannot claim to have had much experience with these animals. Wild dogs
sometimes hunt by day, but more usually at night, and in the latter
case must be guided entirely by their acute sense of smell. As a rule,
they certainly run mute.
On the first occasion on which I ever had anything to do with wild
dogs, they ran into and killed an impala antelope quite close to my
waggon on a dark night in 1872. We ran up with lights and drove them
from the carcase, a good deal of which they had, however, already
devoured. About a month later another pack of wild dogs drove a koodoo
cow into a shed used as a stable, attached to a store near the Blue
Jacket gold mine at Tati, in Matabeleland. I was there at the time, and
on this occasion the wild dogs were driven off by some Kafir boys, who
speared the koodoo inside the shed.
For some time during the year 1888 my waggon was standing at Leshuma,
a water-hole which is situated just ten miles from the junction of
the Chobi and Zambesi rivers. One morning I walked down to Kazungula,
at the junction of the rivers, and on returning to my waggon the same
evening, was surprised to see the meat of a freshly killed koodoo
hanging up in my camp, as game of all kinds was very scarce in the
district. On asking my old Griqua servant where he had shot the
koodoo, he replied, "Master, the good Lord gave it us, for the wild
dogs brought it right up to the waggon." On further inquiry, I found
that soon after midday a pack of those animals had chased the koodoo
to within less than a hundred yards of the waggon, and then run it in
a circle completely round it. When my waggon-driver ran out with his
rifle, both the wild dogs and the koodoo stopped and looked at him,
the latter evidently very much distressed. Jantje at once shot the
antelope, and its pursuers then ran off.
It has always struck me as somewhat remarkable that animals so
confident in their powers of offence that they will sometimes attack a
herd of buffaloes, and that a single one of them will occasionally try
conclusions with so fierce and powerful an animal as a sable antelope
bull, should never have turned their attention seriously to man as
an article of diet; yet in all my experience I have never heard of
wild dogs attacking human beings, nor have I ever heard either Kafirs
or Bushmen express any fear of them. This is all the more remarkable
because when they are met with they do not show any great fear of
man, but retreat very leisurely, constantly halting and looking back
curiously before finally trotting off.
All African antelopes probably live in deadly fear of wild dogs, for
on the occasion when, with two companions, I saw a single wild dog
overtake a sable antelope bull, the latter halted and looked round
when its pursuer was about fifty yards behind it, and then, instead of
showing fight, as I should have expected it to do, threw out its limbs
convulsively and ran at its utmost speed; but the wild dog overhauled
it with apparent ease, and twice jumped up and snapped at its flank,
each time, I think, making good its bite. Now this wild dog must have
been running very much faster than any South African hunting horse
could do, for although it is easy enough to gallop up to sable and roan
antelope cows in August and September, when these animals are heavy
with calf, I have never been able to run into a bull of either of these
species, though I have often attempted to do so, with very good horses,
on the open downs of Mashunaland. Wild dogs, too, can run down koodoo
cows and impala antelopes, as well as hartebeests and tsessebes, none
of which animals can be overtaken on horseback, and I believe that the
general concensus of opinion amongst African hunters would be that no
horse could overtake a wild dog.
I will, however, relate an experience which shows that this is not
always the case, and which will probably be read with great surprise,
if not with incredulity. Early one morning in November 1885, I was
travelling near the source of the Sebakwe river, in Mashunaland,
in company with the late Mr. H. C. Collison, Mr. James Dawson, and
Cornelis van Rooyen, a well-known Boer hunter. We were all riding
together in very open country, just in front of our four bullock
waggons, when we saw fifteen or twenty wild dogs emerge from a small
watercourse that we had just crossed.
When we first saw them they were nearly abreast of us, and not more
than 300 or 400 yards to our left. They trotted quietly along, stopping
frequently to look at us, as is their wont. We possessed amongst us
a large number of dogs, most of them big, rough, powerful mongrels,
such as one sees on a Boer farm in the Transvaal. Calling to our dogs,
we galloped towards their wild cousins, and twelve or fifteen of the
former soon rushed past our horses and took up the chase at a great
pace. The wild dogs now broke into a gallop, but, strange to say,
instead of leaving their pursuers far behind them, they did not seem
able to show any great turn of speed. We were soon right amongst them
with our horses, and our dogs mobbed and pulled down two, which they
held in such a way that they were quite unable to bite. Personally I
picked out a fine large wild dog, in good coat, and rode at him. When
my horse's forefeet were almost touching him he suddenly rolled on
his back and my horse jumped over him. I galloped over this wild dog
several times, and finally shot him.
During this time my companions had occupied themselves in encouraging
our dogs to hold on to the two they had seized, and the rest of the
wild pack had galloped off. As each of the two wild dogs that had been
caught had been worried for some minutes by five or six assailants,
all larger and heavier than itself, we thought they were dead and beat
off our dogs. Their two badly used relatives lay quite still and limp,
and we dragged them, together with the one I had shot, to a tree near
a small stream, where we intended to skin them. All our dogs then went
back to the waggons, which had not halted.
We had just commenced to skin the wild dog I had shot when, on looking
round, I caught the eye of one of the other two that was lying dead, as
we had thought, at the foot of the tree, and instantly saw that it was
alive. It must have been shamming dead all the time in order to recover
its strength, as immediately it caught my eye it sprang to its feet
and dashed off. Two shots were fired at it as it ran, but it got clean
away, apparently none the worse for the worrying it had endured. The
other one which had been caught by our dogs was not quite full-grown,
and as it had been held by the throat by one of our most powerful
hounds, was quite dead.
I can offer no explanation as to why we were able to overtake this pack
of wild dogs so easily, after chasing them for less than a mile, but
the facts are as I have stated them. It is possible, I suppose, that
we disturbed these wild dogs soon after they had killed some large
antelope, and just after they had made a heavy meal. I cannot say, but
I remember that the one I galloped over had its tongue lolling from its
jaws, and showed every sign of distress.
I have, however, had two somewhat similar experiences with chetahs,
which are generally credited with being the swiftest of all four-footed
animals; yet upon two separate occasions, once in company with the Boer
hunter Cornelis van Rooyen, and again with three English friends, I
have galloped after and overtaken a large male chetah. On each occasion
the chetahs squatted suddenly when the horses were close upon them, and
lay flat on the ground, in which position they were both shot.
As I think that these somewhat remarkable experiences ought to be put
on record, I will briefly relate the circumstances under which they
took place.
One day during September 1885, when hunting in company with Cornelis
van Rooyen near the Umfuli river, in Mashunaland, I rode out of a belt
of forest-covered country into a broad open valley, from half a mile to
a thousand yards in breadth, and bounded on the farther side again with
a tract of open forest. Down the centre of this open valley ran a small
watercourse, which was, however, no longer running, though several deep
pools were still full of water.
My friend and I had only ridden out a short distance into the open when
three chetahs, a big male and two smaller animals which were no doubt
females, emerged from the creek, and after trotting a short distance
away from us across the open ground, turned round and stood looking at
us.
Van Rooyen and I at once rode towards them. They let us come close to
the creek before running off, but when they did so, they broke into a
light springing gallop and got over the ground at a great pace. The
long summer grass had all been burnt off in this district, and the
ground in the open valley, being firm and hard and quite free from
holes, was in excellent condition for galloping.
When we commenced to race after the chetahs they had a start of at
least fifty yards--I think considerably more--and the edge of the
forest for which they were making could not have been more than five
hundred yards distant.
Both our horses were pretty fast and in good hard condition, and we
raced neck and neck as hard as we could go behind the chetahs. Whether
these latter were running at their utmost speed I cannot say, but, at
any rate, we slowly but steadily gained on them, and were only a few
yards behind them when they reached the edge of the forest, which was
very open and free from underbush. Suddenly the two female chetahs,
which were a little behind the male, came to a halt, and we galloped
past within a few yards of them, as we wanted to kill the largest of
the three. These two female chetahs did not crouch down, but stood
looking at us as we shot past them. We chased the big male another
fifty yards through the open forest, and were quite close up to him,
when he suddenly stopped and crouched, all in one motion as it were,
and lay with his long thin body pressed flat to the ground. Van Rooyen
and I were so near him that, going at the pace we were, we could not
pull in our horses until we were thirty or forty yards beyond where he
lay. The chetah, however, never moved again, but lay perfectly still
watching us, and we dismounted and shot him where he lay. We never saw
anything more of the two females, which must have run off as soon as we
had passed them.
Two years later, in October 1887, I was riding one day with three
English gentlemen (Messrs. J. A. Jameson, Frank Cooper, and A.
Fountaine, all of whom are alive to-day and will be able to corroborate
my story) through the country lying between the upper waters of the
Sebakwe and Umniati rivers in Mashunaland. The ground was not quite
open, as it was covered here and there with a growth of small trees,
but as these grew very sparsely there was nothing to stop one from
riding at full gallop in every direction. As we rode along I was on the
left of our party. Suddenly my horse turned his head and snorted. I at
once pulled him in, calling to my companions to stop, as I thought my
horse must have smelt a lion lying somewhere near us.
I had scarcely spoken when up jumped a very large male chetah within
twenty yards of my horse and bounded away across the open ground,
holding his long, thick, furry tail straight out behind him.
This chetah did not get much of a start, as we galloped after him as
soon as ever we could get our horses started. The chase may have
lasted for a mile, though I think certainly not farther, and the chetah
never seemed to be able to get away from us, and if he was capable of
going at a greater pace, I cannot understand why he did not do so. At
the end of a mile, however, Jameson, who was the light-weight of our
party, and who was, moreover, mounted on a very fast Basuto pony, was
close up to the chetah, and the rest of us were perhaps thirty yards
behind him. Suddenly the hunted animal squatted flat on the ground, and
Jameson's pony was then so close to it that it jumped clean over it.
The action of this chetah was exactly the same as in the case of the
one that Van Rooyen and I had chased and overtaken in 1885, and in both
cases it was very remarkable how the hunted animals suddenly stopped
when going at a great pace and lay flat on the ground in a single
movement, as it seemed. This second chetah was shot by Jameson from
his horse's back as soon as he could pull in, and it never moved again
after first crouching down.
Now when we read of the wonderful speed of the tamed chetahs kept for
hunting purposes in India, it certainly seems very remarkable that in
South Africa these animals can be overtaken in a short distance by
ordinary shooting horses.
In Jerdon's _Mammals of India_ a very interesting description is given
of hunting with trained chetahs, and I think there can be no doubt that
in that country these animals are able to overtake in a fair course
antelopes and gazelles which cannot be ridden down, and whose speed
surpasses even that of greyhounds.
Whether the African chetah has lost the great speed of his Asiatic
progenitors, and if so why, are questions which I cannot answer, but
the two animals which were galloped after and overtaken by my friends
and myself were both fine specimens of their kind, in good condition
and apparently in the prime of life, and why they did not run away from
our horses and so save their skins, if they were able to do so, is more
than I can understand.
Personally, I know very little as to the life-history of chetahs, and
I doubt if any one else does, as they are very rarely encountered. I
once saw six of these animals together near the town of Salisbury, in
Mashunaland. The teeth of the chetah are very small and weak compared
with those of the leopard, hyæna, or wild dog, and its semi-retractile
claws not very sharp, so I should imagine that its chief prey would be
the smaller species of antelopes.
When the pioneer expedition to Mashunaland was crossing the high
plateau near the source of the Sabi river, in 1890, one of the troopers
of the British South Africa Police Force, who was riding along parallel
with and not far from the line of waggons, came on three chetah cubs
lying in the grass, and brought them to me. They could only have
been a few days old, as their eyes were not yet open. I do not know
what became of those chetah cubs, as my duties as guide and chief
intelligence officer of the pioneer force made it impossible for me to
attend to them; but I believe they were suckled by a bitch and lived
for some time.