Soon after daybreak we saddled up. That day our hunting was to be
northward, for thither all the oryx spoor trended. Andries, Hendrick
and I rode off together. We had to pass the western end of the long,
low ridge noted on the previous evening. Hendrick, just before we
started, declared that he saw some "black sticks" protruding near the
ridge's eastern extremity. This was difficult to credit when one took
the distance into consideration, yet we could not help admitting that
the Hun had never yet misled us. So we proceeded on the reasonable
assumption that his eyes had not on this occasion played him false.
Assuming the oryx to be where Hendrick affirmed he had seen their horns,
we had to endeavour to give the animals our wind from the proper
distance. In hunting the oryx one has to follow a method opposite to
that followed in the case of all other game. If one got their wind,
failure was a foregone conclusion, for the oryx cannot run down the
wind. To keep up the necessary supply of oxygenated blood to his mighty
muscles he must run--his wide nostrils expanded like funnels--against
the air-current. Should he attempt to run down the wind he would
smother when hard pressed. This both he and the hunter know, so the
great art in the noble sport of oryx-hunting lies in manoeuvring so as
to prevent the game from taking the only course on which his powers will
have full play.
The day promised to be hot; when the Kalihari wind blows in summer there
is no possibility of cool weather in the desert. We advanced at a
walking pace, for the strength of our horses had to be conserved against
that long pursuit which, in hunting the oryx, is almost inevitable. The
heat grew greater every moment. The morning was at seven; what would
the sunshine be like at noon?
We reached the western limit of the ridge,--where the gentle slope
merged itself almost imperceptibly into the plain. This was the
juncture at which to exercise caution; one false move then, and our day
would have been wasted. We dismounted and stole cautiously to our
right--Hendrick and I,--Andries remaining with the horses. A low
"s-s-s-t" from Hendrick, and we dropped in our tracks to the ground.
The keen-eyed Hun had again discerned the tips of the "black sticks"
over the rim of the earth-curve. We crept back to Andries and the
horses, held a council of war and finally decided upon our strategy.
Andries was heavily built; almost corpulent. This to him was a matter
of great grief. His mount was strong, but no horse that ever was foaled
could, with sixteen stone on its back, run down a herd of oryx.
Hendrick and I, accordingly, were to do the riding. The game was still
several miles away, on our left front as we turned and faced the camp,
but it nevertheless was necessary that we should make another wide sweep
so as to get further to windward. So we rode off northward, leaving
Andries behind. He decided to remain where he was, it being an even
chance as to whether the herd, after it had started, would break past
him or to the north-eastward. In any event its course would not be more
than 45 degrees on either side of the point from which the wind was
blowing. Andries, moreover, had an almost uncanny knack of forecasting
the movements of wild animals.
Hendrick and I had got to within about three miles of the herd, and well
to windward, when it sighted us. It was a fairly large one,--numbering
about eighty head. Until the oryx started running we would continue to
ride diagonally away from them, edging slightly to our right and
proceeding at a walking pace. But I kept my head turned far enough over
my right shoulder to enable me to keep one careful eye on the herd,
which stood at gaze, every head pointing northward against the wind.
Our plans had been carefully laid. When the herd started running, as it
now soon would, Hendrick, on his fierce black stallion, was to ride due
east at full gallop, so as to cut clean across its course. My own
actions would be governed by the behaviour of the game. I was anxious,
if possible, to secure Andries a shot. At length the herd started and
Hendrick, tense with desire, loosened his reins and thundered away. The
course of the flight was, as we expected, a little to the east of north.
It is remarkable how experience teaches one to anticipate what game
will do when disturbed. I edged to my right at a moderate canter. Old
Prince tried to break into a gallop, but the time for that was not yet.
The herd inclined its course still more to the eastward, but Hendrick
had too much of a start for that to matter; he had, so far, the hunt
completely in hand. Should the oryx have adhered to the course they
started on, they would soon have been in a dilemma: that of having to
choose between passing Hendrick at close quarters and running down the
wind. So the inevitable alteration in their course was now only a
matter of seconds. Ha! they swerved; they were now heading for the
opening between Andries, whom, being behind the end of the ridge, they
could not see, and myself. This was precisely what we had been
manoeuvring for.
I let Prince out and galloped towards the advancing herd, pressing it
gently away from the wind. Were I to have pressed the oryx too hard,
they would have again swerved to their right and rushed for the opening
between Hendrick and me. This would have suited me, personally, well
enough, but would have spoilt Andries' chance. On they came--the
full-grown bulls, about thirty of them--leading in a close phalanx.
Then came the cows; behind these the fawns. I trended slightly to my
right and gave Prince a looser rein. I had the herd fully in hand at
about five hundred yards; I was easily holding their wind and could have
closed with them whenever I liked. But, disregarding Andries'
oft-repeated advice, I yielded to temptation. After gaining another
hundred yards I rolled from my horse and opened fire. It seemed
impossible to miss such a mark, but my first wind had gone and the
second had not yet taken its place. My bullets went all over the veld,
every shot missed.
As I remounted, with shame and sorrow in my heart, I heard a shot from
the other side of the herd; it was followed by a thud. Then a bull
turned out of the press; it faltered, staggered and fell. Once more I
let Prince out at his best gallop, keeping his nose on the flank of the
phalanx. I had, through my foolish impatience, largely lost my
advantage; now my only chance of a favourable shot was to ride for all I
was worth, strenuously pressing the leaders of the herd away from the
wind.
The herd was then about nine hundred yards away. All I could do was to
continue the pressure, so as to defer the now inevitable stern chase for
as long as possible. I was just barely holding my own, but that was
good enough for the current stage. The oryx did not as yet venture to
turn up wind; they well knew that an attempt to do so would have enabled
me to close with them by putting on a spurt.
Prince knew his work and had settled down to that steady, tireless
stride I knew and loved so well, and which he could easily keep up for
ten miles without a rest. The wind sang as we cleft it, rushing through
the swaying "toa." The desert lay before us as level as the sea. A few
springbucks, waifs from some trekking herd, stood at gaze as we swept
by. They knew quite well what my objective was and accordingly were not
alarmed. Paauws arose here and there on heavy wings; the flight of one
startled all others in sight. Ostriches scudded away in various
directions. The desert was awake; word of the presence of man,--of the
arch-enemy on the war-path--had been borne to its farthest bounds.
The course of the herd was a segment of the periphery of a wide circle;
my course was also a curve, but an elliptical one,--for it continually
impinged on the leaders so as to continue pressing them away from the
wind for every possible yard. But it was clear that very soon the oryx
would be able to attain the course which was the object of their swift
endeavour; this was rendered inevitable from the moment of my stupid
blunder in dismounting too soon and thus throwing away my rare
advantage. At length they had it; I could press them no longer. Now
the flight is almost dead against the wind; now the trumpet-like
nostrils are opened wide against the streaming current of air. This
seems to stimulate the fugitives, for the distance between us has
perceptibly increased.
Prince, unbidden, swerved to the right course and we followed hard on
the heels of the flying game. It was at length a stern chase. A word
to my faithful horse and his stride quickened. Soon it was clear that
we were gaining. Herein was an illustration of how the instinct of
animals, usually so true, may occasionally mislead them. These
creatures, in the hour of danger blindly surrendering to the gregarious
idea ingrained through the experience of ages, crowded so hard on each
other that they got half-smothered in their own dust. Hence it is far
more easy to ride down a large herd of oryx than a small one. When it
is a case of a single animal, or even of two or three, a stern chase is
almost hopeless, no matter how swift one's mount.
I was gaining rapidly; I overhauled the fawns and immature animals and
pressed through, passing some of them within a few yards. One I had to
turn out of my way by leaning forward from the saddle and prodding it
with the muzzle of my rifle. Those young things followed after me, bent
only on overtaking their elders; apparently oblivious of the
circumstance that I was their enemy. I overtook the crowd of cows; it
opened out and scattered on either hand. I was now riding in a cloud of
dust, the phalanx of bulls being only about a hundred and fifty yards
ahead; the animals could be but dimly discerned through the dust-cloud.
I had to gain another hundred yards without attempting to dismount; not
again would I yield to impatience.
The hundred yards were soon gained; Prince shewed signs of flagging, so
I had to look out for a soft place whereon I could roll from the saddle
without hurting myself. My second wind had come; I was as steady as a
rock, but eyes, throat and nostrils were smarting from the acrid,
pungent dust. I dropped the reins on Prince's neck; he shortened his
stride and I rolled from his back on my right-hand side. I could just
see the bulls, but the dust was so thick that it was impossible to pick
an animal, so I fired into the brown of the moving mass. My bullet
thudded hard; that was enough,--I would not fire again.
The herd of oryx sped on; I remounted and followed at a slow canter.
Yes,--there was my quarry,--a bull turned out of the press and faltered
in his course. I rode towards him; he still cantered but his gait was
laboured. He stood, turned and faced me.
He was a noble brute,--a leader among the oryx people. Still as a
statue he stood, defying his enemy. His wire-like hair was erect and
quivering; his red, trumpet-formed nostrils seemed to exude defiance;
his shoulders and flanks were heavily banded with streaks of foam. In
spite of the long chase he did not appear to pant.
I dismounted when within about sixty yards and advanced towards the
doomed and stricken creature. Now it behoved me to be wary, for had the
bull charged and my shot failed to disable him, my death would
inevitably have resulted. So I took careful aim at a spot just above
where his neck emerged from his chest, and fired. The bull sank to the
ground in a huddled heap.
I now became aware for the first time that I was suffering from raging
thirst. To my dismay I found that the small flask of weak whiskey and
water I had slung to the side of my saddle had got smashed in the course
of the gallop. Away--in the far distance--I saw Hendrick approaching at
a walk.
I disembowelled the oryx and covered the carcase with bushes so as to
conceal it from the vultures. Among the bushes I burnt a few charges of
gunpowder; this would serve to keep off the jackals--at all events for a
few hours. Then I mounted and rode slowly towards the wagon. Hendrick
altered his course and joined me, en route. Black Bucephalus looked
piebald as he approached, so flaked was he with dried sweat.
The wagon was about twelve miles from where the oryx had fallen. It
took us over three hours--hours of intense physical anguish--to travel
those miles. My mouth was so parched that the saliva had ceased to
exude, my lips were cracked and bleeding. For a considerable portion of
the time spent on that dolorous journey I was on the verge of delirium.
Hendrick also suffered, but in a somewhat less degree, for his fibre was
tougher than mine. When about half-way to the wagon he asked my
permission to ride apart, stating as his reason that he could not bear
the sight of my torment. Brabies and the white tilt of the wagon seemed
to recede before us. I then realised clearly how people might die on
the threshold of relief. For untold gold I would not undergo another
such experience.
But the journey came to an end at length, and the long drink which
followed was unspeakably delicious. Soon the wagon was emptied of its
contents and, with a team of eight fresh horses, despatched to fetch in
the game. It was nightfall when the wagon returned with its heavy
load,--the carcases of two large oryx bulls.
The morrow we spent at Brabies for the purpose of giving the horses a
rest. We occupied ourselves in the prosaic process of cutting up and
salting the oryx meat. On the following day we would start for home.
The water of the vley was rapidly drying up under the fierce heat; in
another week there would not be a drop left.
There were several features of interest connected with the vley. The
water had shrunk to a series of small puddles. Swimming about in every
one of these were large numbers of tiny organisms, each with a single,
immense eye. These creatures belonged to a species of "Apus,"--a genus
of one of the crustacean sub-families. On a trip undertaken during the
previous year I had found an Apus of another species in a vley less than
thirty miles from Brabies,--a vley which probably does not contain water
more than once in five years. This development of separate species in
localities so close to each other, suggested that local conditions had
not materially changed for a very long period. No vley was found to
contain more than a single variety. These quaint creatures swim through
their little hour of fully developed life and, when the drying up of the
water kills them, the eggs they contain are freed. Then these are blown
hither and thither among the dust of the desert until another
adventitious shower fills the vley in which they were generated, and
some chance wind-gust carries a few of them into the water. The
indefinite preservation of the life-germ on the occasionally almost
red-hot surface of the desert is little short of miraculous.
Yes,--the Brabies vley must have existed under approximately similar
conditions from an immensely remote antiquity. It is probable that in
comparatively recent times rain was more plentiful in Bushmanland (as
there is reason to believe it was generally throughout South Africa),
than it now is. For there were evidences that Brabies was once a centre
of population. Pottery, obviously of Bushman manufacture, abounded. If
one broke a fragment, the charred fibres of the woven grass-blades on
which the clay design had been formed, could be clearly seen. In the
low, stone ledges surrounding the vley were to be seen grooves evidently
caused by the sharpening of weapons. Some of these grooves were very
deep, and as the Bushmen's arrow-heads were made of bone, the scores
must have been the result of sharpening by many generations. A few of
them looked as fresh as if they had been used the previous day.
A careful search discovered stone implements of various types,--
palaeolithic as well as neolithic. These suggested a receding
succession of prehistoric peoples to days unthinkably remote. Some of
the weapons were very peculiar,--they were either spear-heads or
arrow-heads. But they seemed too small for the former and too large for
the latter. If they were spear-heads they must have been used by
pygmies; if arrow-heads by giants.
As there were apparently no springbucks worth the hunting on that side
of the desert, we decided to return home at once. We thus had
no opportunity of testing the qualities of the fearsome
hunting-chariot-contraption constructed by Andries. I was not
altogether sorry; my bones ached in anticipation of our probable
experiences in it,--behind the half-broken team.
Each morning when the sun first grew hot, the vley was invaded by
countless myriads of desert grouse. Of these we shot some hundreds,
which we salted down for home consumption.