CHANGE OF BASE--CROSSING THE RIVER--RUNAWAY OXEN--NEW
HUNTING-GROUND.
"Why, I thought you and Harry voted to remain here; didn't you?" I
remarked.
"Yes," said Jack; "I did think last night that there was no use in
our hurrying away, but later on I thought over what you said about
the scarcity of game, and have concluded that it would be a good plan
to move on."
"Yes, and so have I," said Harry; "I didn't realize the full force of
your remarks last night, but I've been thinking it over, and see very
plainly that we've skinned out this spot and ought to go somewhere
else. I suggest that we reconsider our vote of last night, and bring
the subject again before parliament."
I could not help laughing at their change of view. When my laugh was
over I assumed a serious expression, and put the question to vote.
Harry and Jack were as unanimous now for moving on as they were for
remaining _in situ_ the night before.
So the order was given for inspanning. Jack suggested that we had
better send down to the river and save the boat which he had
constructed. "We needn't bother about the frame," said he, "as I can
get up another one. I'll go down with the Kafirs, take the boat to
pieces, and bring away the skins; the skin covering is all we want;
it can be folded up and carried in a small space."
Away went Jack with three or four of the Kafirs, and in an hour or so
he was back at the camp with the essential portion of his boat. The
work of inspanning was rather slow; it is always much slower when you
have been in camp for several or many days than when you are moving
steadily day after day. We had two wagons, and nine pairs of oxen to
each wagon. To yoke up eighteen pairs of oxen is no small job, even
when the animals are under thorough discipline; when they are in a
condition bordering on wildness it is a great deal worse.
I remember, in my younger days, on the American plains, I used to
wonder why the teamsters with the prairie-schooners of those times
were so fearfully profane in their talk. I did not wonder any more
when I had seen them at work yoking up their teams. A man was
pointed out to me once in Leavenworth, Kan., as a prodigy of
goodness, because he had driven a five-yoke team from Leavenworth to
Salt Lake City and back without uttering a single oath. But there
was a sequel to the story: the man was deaf and dumb!
It was noon, and a little after, before we got under way. We made
about six miles that afternoon, and then outspanned at the edge of
the river's valley, where there was a good supply of water for the
cattle, and fairly good grazing-ground. Next morning we were under
way in good season; and just before the wagons started we three
hunters rode on ahead, partly to spy out the land and partly to see
if we could pick up any game. We found two straggling buffaloes, and
managed to shoot both of them. They were small, but welcome, and
Jack rode back to the wagons to show the party the route they could
take in order to pass near where the buffaloes were, and gather up
the meat and the hides. We made about fifteen miles that day,
outspanning again near the river's valley, and in a very good
location.
Soon after going into camp we discovered a herd of half a dozen
elands a mile or so to the westward. We spread out in different
directions, so as to encircle them, and thereby increase our chances
of bringing down at least one of the number. Harry secured one of
them, and Jack another; I returned empty-handed from the chase, but I
did not care much for that, as the two elands, added to the two
buffaloes, gave us a plentiful supply of meat. We saw nothing of our
lady friends or their wagons, and concluded that they must have gone
farther to the west before crossing the river. Harry and Jack seemed
to be a good deal exercised as to the direction they had taken, and I
exercised them a good deal more by suggesting that after sending the
note to us they had possibly changed their minds and traveled south
instead of north. "You know," I added, "that it is a woman's
privilege to change her mind, and what better opportunity could they
have than now?"
I watched their faces as I spoke, and could distinctly see that both
of them turned decidedly pale. The idea that Miss Boland could have
been so deceitful as all that was something to drive the poor fellows
wild with indignation. They were speechless for two or three
minutes, but at last Jack broke the silence by declaring that my idea
was an absurd one. He did not believe a word of it for a moment, and
would not believe it until he had positive proof. "They said
distinctly," he added, "that they were going to cross the river and
proceed northward, and I don't believe they would tell a lie."
"It isn't a question of lying," I said; "it is simply that of a
change of mind. People don't generally call that a falsehood. Why,
you yourself, Jack, the night before we received the note from them,
believed in staying where we were, and said so emphatically; the next
morning you changed your mind. It wouldn't be right for me to accuse
you of falsehood in so doing."
Gradually the conversation took a chaffing tone, and my companions
became better-tempered. We slept well, after a hearty supper, and
the next morning the three of us went out to find a good place for
fording the river. We found one--a place where the river was quite
broad and shallow, with a good sandy bottom, and the water about four
feet in depth. The manager was doubtful as to the ability of the
teams to pull the wagons through; so, by way of precaution, before
the first wagon entered he took five yokes of oxen from the other
wagon and hitched them on in front of the nine pairs that constituted
the team; then, with a great deal of shouting, swearing in half a
dozen languages, and a vigorous use of whips and sticks, the team
entered the water. It was no small matter to keep the leaders in the
way they should go, but the fore-looper, with three or four Kafirs to
assist him, managed to do so. It was a pretty hard pull, but they
got through all right; the oxen wanted to stop and breathe in
midstream, but that could not be allowed, as the wheels would sink in
the sand, and it would be a matter of extreme difficulty to start
again.
The second wagon was brought over in the same way as the first, with
five yokes of oxen taken from the team of the first wagon, making
fourteen yokes in all. This practice is a very common one in South
African travel, just as it used to be on the American plains.
Sometimes the crossings of the rivers here are so bad that it is
necessary to unload everything out of the wagons, and carry it across
on men's heads or in boats. In many of the rivers the bottom is
rocky, being filled with boulders of all sizes. They make a very bad
crossing, because they offer miserable foothold to the oxen, and are
equally bad footing to men. In crossing one of these stony rivers in
my first trip up-country, I slipped and fell at full length in the
middle of a swift current, in consequence of having stepped on a
boulder which turned under my feet. I was carrying a gun and my suit
of clothes at the time; gun and clothes went into the water; but
happily I saved both.
After getting safely over the river and putting everything in order,
we took a course about due north, uncertain how long we would
continue it. Harry, Jack, and I scoured the country ahead of the
wagons in order to pick up whatever game might be in our way, and we
managed to keep the party well supplied with meat.
Our company on its march was a picturesque sight. First came the
fore-looper on horseback, indicating the route which the wagons
should take; it is the fore-looper's duty to select the way, and he
must be able to take in a considerable range of country at a single
glance. Then came the wagons, each with its nine span of oxen, and
behind the second wagon was the loose extra stock of oxen and
horses--though generally there are no extras of the latter, all the
horses in the outfit being saddled and ridden by somebody. The
manager rides here and there along the line, watching and directing
everything, and using very emphatic language when he has occasion to
address any of his inferiors. The rear is brought up by the
after-rider, whose duty it is to prevent men and cattle from
straggling or from falling behind.
The reader will see that there is thus a good deal of military
formality about the composition of an African train, and such is
necessarily the case. The fore-looper is the advance-guard, the
after-rider the rear-guard, the wagons and their teams the army, the
loose stock the commissary-train, and the manager the general in
command.
We found the country to the north of the river decidedly hilly--much
more so than the southern side. Climbing hills was a serious matter,
as it required a great deal of shouting and flogging to accomplish
it. On the other hand, descending hills was nearly as bad; and when
it came to accidents those of the descents were more numerous than
those of the ascents. One hill that we descended came near wrecking
one of the wagons. We cut down a small tree and tied it to the rear
of the wagon to make a drag; then we started the oxen; but the drag
was insufficient, and the wagon pushed ahead, forcing the oxen before
it. They quickened their pace to a trot, and then to a run.
In going down the descent the oxen turned along the side of the hill,
which brought the wheels on one side of the wagon much higher than
those on the other. The wagon tipped over, or rather would have done
so had it not come against a tree just as it was overturning, and
brought everything up all standing. The chains that held the first
four yokes of oxen were broken, and away the creatures went at a
tearing pace, until they were stopped by the fore-looper half a mile
away.
We had a variety of mishaps while traveling in the hilly country, but
happily none of them were serious. After two days of this sort of
thing we came out into an open region, where the country was fairly
level, but there was a scarcity of water, as the streams were small
and far apart. We kept on through this open region till we came near
the Divargo River; at any rate, it is called a river, though it is
hardly anything more than a small brook. As the valley of the river
afforded good pasturage for our oxen, and the stream itself would
supply us with water, we decided to form a kraal in its neighborhood.
Signs of game were plentiful, and the natives that came into the camp
reported an abundance of elephants and buffaloes. While looking
about for a good place for a camp, Harry stumbled upon a fine spring
of water coming out of a hillside at the edge of the valley, and of
course that settled the question at once.
We outspanned there, and all hands went to work industriously to make
a kraal. Not only did the natives report plenty of elephants and
buffaloes, but they also reported giraffes, elands, gemsbok, blesbok,
and lions. The lions were the fellows that we were obliged to build
a kraal against, all the other animals named giving us a wide berth.
The next morning after forming our camp we started in on our
hunting-work--first after elephants, then after buffaloes, and then
after smaller game. We had very good success, as we brought down
three elephants and two buffaloes the first day, and all the
elephants were good-sized tuskers.
The second day we were not so fortunate, as we secured only two
elephants, the herd having become shy on account of the devastation
in their midst the day before. Still, as sport goes, that was very
good work, and we returned to camp in fairly buoyant spirits.
Soon after we arrived our manager came to us and said several natives
had been in the camp a short time before and reported two hunters
camped some five or six miles to the westward of us. He added the
important information that these hunters were women, whereupon Jack
and Harry took a look at the sun, to see whether there was time to
ride over to the camp and back again before dark. Harry proposed
that we should go at once on the visit; but I suggested that it was
rather late in the day for a call, and besides, it might look like
rushing matters a bit if we started out directly from our own camp
with the object of visiting them.
"It would be better," I said, "to hunt in that direction, and come
upon them 'by accident.' Don't you think so?"