INCIDENTS OF A JOURNEY THROUGH THE NORTHERN KALAHARI
Southern Rhodesia--Country farther west still a primeval
wilderness--Seldom traversed by white men--Scarcity of
water--Remarkable rain-storm--Porcupine flooded out--Every hollow
filled with water--All game in good condition--Many varieties
encountered--Large herd of elephants--Four large bulls--Wariness
of elephants--Lions roaring near camp--Search for them on
the following morning--Large male seen and chased into thick
bush--Successful encounter with a second male.
Southern Rhodesia, in which vast territory is comprised Matabeleland,
Mashunaland, Manicaland, and part of Gazaland, is now a well-known
country traversed by railways and supporting a considerable white
population, the bulk of which, however, is confined to the mining
districts and to the towns of Bulawayo, Salisbury, Umtali, and Gwelo.
But between the western frontier of Southern Rhodesia and the swamps
of the Okavango river there stretches a broad expanse of primeval
wilderness which the recent development of European activity in all
parts of Africa has left entirely untouched.
The reason for this is not far to seek, since the whole of this country
is, in the first place, entirely without hills or indeed stone of any
kind, and therefore cannot contain gold; and in the second, entirely
without rivers, and therefore as a rule a sun-scorched waste, almost
destitute of surface water, except during the rainy season.
Thus it has been left an unexplored wilderness which has seldom been
traversed by white men, except on certain well-known routes, such as
the old waggon trails from Tati to Pandamatenka and from Bamangwato to
the Mababi river, and even on these I have travelled in dry seasons
seventy and a hundred and twenty miles respectively without water.
Occasionally, however, when exceptionally heavy rains have fallen
during the past wet season, this desert land becomes a very pleasant
country to travel in. Such a year was 1884. Towards the end of May of
that year, a full six weeks after the usual close of the wet season,
the most extraordinary rain-storm I have ever experienced swept over
the desert to the west of Matabeleland. I was at that time travelling
slowly westwards by bullock waggon, following no track, but making my
way across country under the guidance of Masarwa Bushmen from one pool
of water to another.
One afternoon dense masses of black clouds gathered in the west, and
presently spread over the whole sky. There was neither thunder nor
lightning, but towards evening a strong wind sprang up, and soon
afterwards a steady rain began to fall, at first light, but ever
increasing in intensity, until soon after dark it was coming down in
such a way that I thought it impossible that it could last long. But
all through that night and until midday the following day, the heavy
rain never ceased to fall. During the afternoon, however, the sky again
grew lighter and the rain gradually ceased. By midnight the stars were
shining from a cloudless sky.
Early the following morning I rode out to see the effect of this
unprecedented downpour, and found the face of the country completely
changed. On the sand ridges no difference was apparent, as the thirsty
soil had easily absorbed all the rain that had fallen on it, but the
intervening spaces where the Mopani trees flourish, and where the soil
is a sort of light clay, had been transformed into broad, shallow
lakes, from a few inches to two feet in depth. Riding across one of
these flooded valleys, I came upon a porcupine seated disconsolately on
the stem of a fallen Mopani tree--the first of these animals I had ever
come across in the daytime.
The surface floods soon soaked away on the level ground, but every
hollow became a lake or pond which held water for a longer or shorter
time according to its depth, and when retraversing this same tract of
country some five months later, I still found all the larger hollows
fairly full, and was therefore able to travel at my leisure with ease
and comfort through a country which, in ordinary seasons, would have
been quite impassable by bullock waggon at that time of the year.
Under these conditions, I found this usually arid waste a very
pleasant place to wander over. Game, though not very abundant, was
still in sufficient numbers to enable me to keep my own people and
the several families of Bushmen who had attached themselves to me in
rude plenty. Owing to the favourable season, all grazing and browsing
animals, including my own cattle, were in very good condition, and
my larder seldom lacked the choicest portions of the giraffe, eland,
gemsbuck, and springbuck, four of the best animals for the table,
when in prime condition, which South Africa, or any other part of the
world, can produce. Blue wildebeests were more plentiful than all
other species of game, and on the broad, grassy plains which stretch
westwards from Metsibutluku--the bitter water--often congregated in
herds of from one to two hundred individuals. Here, too, large troops
of zebras--Chapman's variety of Burchell's zebra--were often to be
met with, as well as small herds of the Cape hartebeest, now quite
a scarce animal, as it has been either exterminated in most parts of
its former range or driven into the waterless deserts of South-Western
Africa.
In the dense thorn jungles which lay a little to the north of my route,
a large herd of elephants spent the whole year, as I saw their tracks
when travelling westwards from Matabeleland, and again on my return
eastwards some five months later. These animals were, however, very
wary, never drinking twice running at one pool, and travelling immense
distances every night. I twice followed their spoor for a whole day
and slept on it without coming up with them. But besides this large
herd of cow and young bull elephants, there were four immense old bulls
(judging from their tracks), which frequented the same jungles but
lived by themselves apart from the herd.
These old patriarchs I tried hard but unsuccessfully to find in the
daytime, and I also watched for them at nights on several occasions at
vleys at which they had been in the habit of drinking, but I never had
the luck to hit off the right pool of water on the right night. Once
they drank at a vley within a mile of the one at which I was watching,
and I heard them at the water, but on this occasion I think they must
have got my wind, as, although I was early on their tracks and followed
them all day with the best Bushmen spoorers, I never got near them, and
the next day rode home, shooting a fat giraffe cow on the way.
I may here remark that it is of little use, if you do not come up
with elephants which have been frightened on the first day, to follow
them any farther, as, when alarmed, these animals travel very fast
and far at nights, and on the morning of the second day will, in all
probability, be much farther off than they were when you first took up
their spoor.
Of lions there were a few, but not very many, in this part of the
country, and my one successful encounter with one of these animals
during this season occurred late in the year, when I was once more
nearing the western frontier of Matabeleland. My waggon was then
standing beneath some tall, feathery leaved thorn trees near a large
vley of water, beyond which stretched an open plain covered with a
rather short growth of yellow grass for South Africa--as it was not
more than about two feet in length. This open plain was skirted to the
north by dense jungles of wait-a-bit thorns, and on its other three
sides by open Mopani forest and scrub. My camp was on the northern side
of the plain, quite close to the thorn jungles.
At this time I had been long absent from the farthest outpost of
civilisation, and had not seen a white mans face or spoken a word
of English for more than six months; but I never felt lonely or low
spirited, for I had plenty of books with me to read at nights, and
hunting and collecting specimens of natural history filled all my time
by day. I was, too, in perfect health.
One night I was reading in the waggon rather late, when a lion--the
first I had heard for a long time--commenced to roar loudly apparently
not very far away, and was immediately answered by several other lions
roaring in unison. After this, and until I went to sleep, this roaring
became almost continuous, but I could tell that there was one lion
which always roared alone, and was answered by several others which
all roared together. Presently, lulled by this grandest of all earthly
music, I went to sleep.
I awoke just before daylight, and as the lions were still roaring,
apparently within a mile of the waggon, I at once got up, and after
drinking a cup of coffee, rode out just at daylight, accompanied by a
mounted Griqua lad and several of my best Bushmen, to look for them.
Twice after we had left the waggon their deep, menacing voices rolled
out over the silent veld, and assured us that they were still in the
open grass plain, but after the sun rose they became silent.
We had ridden for perhaps a mile and a half across the open plain,
when I suddenly saw something dark appear above the long yellow grass
some four hundred yards ahead of me, and knew at once that what I had
seen was the maned shoulder of a lion. At this time I do not think
he had seen us, but had just risen from the spot where he had been
lately lying roaring, with the intention of making his way to the
thorn jungles ahead of him. I was mounted on a very good, well-trained
shooting horse, in splendid hard condition, and very fast, and I at
once put spurs to him, and rode as hard as he could go, in the hope
of getting up to the lion before the latter gained the shelter of the
thorn jungle, where no horse could have followed him.
The noble quarry gave but one quick look towards the approaching horse,
and then turned and galloped away through the grass at a great pace,
making straight for a small island of forest and jungle lying in the
open plain just outside the main bush. I was now going at racing speed,
and was gaining fast on the lion, who did not appear to be exerting
himself, though he got over the ground pretty quickly, going at an
easy gallop, and looking like an enormous mastiff. He was very dark in
colour, with a full dark mane.
Just before he got to the edge of the small isolated piece of bush, I
ought to have pulled in and taken a shot at him at about 150 yards, but
I thought he would halt at the edge of the cover and turn round and
look at me, as lions, after having been chased across an open place on
horseback, often do; but this one galloped straight into the cover,
and I lost the chance. The patch of bush in which he now was, was not
more than 100 yards long by 50 broad, but was only separated from the
main jungle by an open piece of ground quite destitute of cover and
about 60 yards across at the narrowest point. Having ridden round
this isolated piece of bush without seeing anything more of the lion,
I thought he must be hiding within it, and determined to send to the
waggon for my dogs, which I knew would soon show me his whereabouts, as
soon as the Bushmen came up.
They soon appeared with my mounted after-rider, who at once told me
that, after I galloped forward, he had come on behind me across the
plain, and had ridden right on to five lions lying in the grass, a big
male and four females, which had trotted slowly away to a tongue of
bush extending into the plain from the main jungle about a mile back.
I now rode round the piece of bush again, in which I thought that the
lion I had chased was still hiding, with the Bushmen, in order to make
sure that he was still there, and had not run straight through it and
across the open into the solid jungle beyond, which he might just have
had time to do without my seeing him, for I had pulled in for a moment
near where he had disappeared.
Sure enough, we found his tracks emerging from the top end of the bush,
and followed them across the open to the thick cover beyond, and as it
would have been useless to look for him here without dogs, I galloped
back at once with my after-rider to where the latter had last seen the
other lions. "Was the male a big one?" I asked him. "Sir," he answered,
"when he turned and stood looking at me from the top of that piece of
rising ground, he looked like an eland bull!"
We had just passed the point of the tongue of bush I have previously
alluded to, when my boy said in Dutch, "Daar's hij; pass op; hij zal
ons jagd" ("There he is; look out; he will chase us"), and turning his
horse's head, galloped away. I had not yet seen the lion, but I soon
made him out standing looking at me, with his head held low. He was
not more than eighty yards off, and I was just going to dismount and
have a shot at him, when out he came with mouth held half open and
ears laid back, jerking out with every breath a rolling thunderous
growl. My horse knew the business well, and was round and off with
the promptitude and speed of a well-trained polo pony, the lion close
behind.
I think he got up pretty near us with his first furious rush, but then
my horse got into his stride and gradually drew away from him, and when
he had chased us for about 150 yards, he pulled up, at the same time
ceasing to growl. It was the cessation of the roaring that let me know
he had given up the chase, and pulling my horse in, I brought him round
again as quickly as possible.
The lion was then standing looking at me, and as I approached he
lowered his head, and at once commenced to growl again, whisking his
tail rapidly from side to side without cessation. I knew he would
charge again in a moment, so gave him no time to get his wind, but
dismounting as quickly as possible, raised my rifle and took a quick
shot for his open mouth. The bullet must have passed just below or
on one side of his lower jaw, as it struck him in the chest, causing
him to stand straight up on his hind-legs, and fall over backwards.
He recovered himself immediately, but abandoning for the moment all
thought of again charging, turned and trotted back towards the shelter
of the trees he had left a short time before.
I was quickly in the saddle again and galloping up behind him, as
I feared to lose sight of him in the bush. He heard me coming, and
whipping round with an angry roar, charged again in fine style, this
time, however, chasing me for less than a hundred yards, and coming to
a halt as before right in the open. I brought my horse round as quickly
as I could, and again dismounting, fired as he stood facing me, and
again hit him in the chest, when he at once turned and made for the
bush, on reaching which he lay down under a large thorn tree. I now
walked my horse towards him, and finding that he was apparently too
far gone to get on his legs again, though he raised his great head and
growled savagely as I approached, I came quite near to him, and gave
him a third shot in the chest which killed him. He proved to be a fine
lion just in his prime, in beautiful coat and with a very fair mane. He
was, too, extraordinarily fat. The Bushmen took every particle of fat
from the slain monarch, but left the rest of the carcase for the hyænas
and vultures, which they would not have done had they been short of
meat of other kinds.
I imagine that this lion was the lord and master of the four lionesses
who were with him when my after-rider disturbed them, and that the
single lion I had chased and lost was a depraved animal who wished to
interfere with this domestic arrangement, but had been unable to allure
any of the lionesses away from their rightful lord, and had not dared
to put the matter to the ordeal of combat. This explanation would, I
think, account for the continuous roaring which had gone on during the
whole of the previous night.