Departure for Libèbé.—The Canoe.—The Lake.—Reach the
Teoge.—Adventure with a Leché.—Luxurious Vegetation.—Exuberance
of animal Life.—Buffaloes.—The Koodoo.—His
Haunts.—Pace.—Food.—Flesh.—Hide.—Disposition.—Gregarious
Habits.—The Chase.
As Lecholètébè proved true to his word with regard to providing me with
men and boats, I was able, after only a few days’ stay at the Lake, to
proceed on my exploring tour to the north. To the last moment, however,
the chief and his people endeavored to dissuade me from the attempt,
urging, among other reasons, the enormous windings of the Teoge, which
would prevent me from reaching my destination for many months, as, also,
the great number of hippopotami, which they represented as the most
savage and voracious of beasts.
I did not give much credit to the story of these men, not having
the least faith in their word. I told them that, with regard to the
sinuosities of the stream, I hoped to overcome that difficulty by
patience; and as to the sea-cows, if they really were such monsters as
described, I assured them I was quite confident that my black followers
(pointing to the boatmen), to whom they were accustomed, would be first
swallowed, which would give me time to escape. With this rude joke, which
highly pleased my untutored audience, I stepped into the canoe, and
waving my hand, in token of leave, to my men and the chief, I launched
forth on the Zouga.
The canoe in which I embarked (and they are all somewhat similarly
constructed) was but a miserable craft. It consisted of the trunk of a
tree, about twenty feet long, pointed at both ends, and hollowed out by
means of fire and a small hatchet. The natives are not at all particular
as to the shape of the canoe. The after-part of some that have come under
my notice would form an angle of near forty-five degrees with the stem!
Nevertheless, they were propelled through the water by the Bayeye (my
boatmen were of that nation) with considerable speed and skill.
The “appointments” of the canoe consist of a paddle, and a pole ten to
twelve feet in length. The paddle-man sits well in the stern, and attends
mostly to the steering; while his comrade, posted at the head of the
canoe, sends her along, by means of the pole, with great force and skill.
The natives, however, rarely venture any distance from the shore in their
frail skiffs. It was said that they had made several attempts to cross
the widest part of the Lake, but had never succeeded. A party, consisting
of ten or twelve canoes, hazarded the experiment a few years previous
to its discovery by Europeans, but were not again heard of, from which
it was concluded that they had been overtaken by a storm and perished.
After about an hour’s paddling, the broad expanse of the Lake lay before
me, glittering in all the beauty and softness produced by reflection of
the warm rays of a tropical sun. It was, indeed, a luxury, after so much
traveling in the burning desert, to be able at last to float upon
“The glassy, cool, translucent wave,”
and the pleasure was increased by my partiality to water, an element with
which I became familiar in the early stages of boyhood, and on which I
have spent some of my happiest days.
As I felt the cool breeze fanning my cheeks, new life seemed to stir
within me, and my heart beat high with joyous excitement.
Our party, at starting, consisted of only three or four canoes; but, as
we proceeded on the voyage, the number increased, and ultimately amounted
to about a dozen.
In consequence of the frail structure of our craft, and the boatmen’s
tenacity in keeping near the shore, we were two days in getting from the
Zouga to the western extremity of the Lake, although, in reality, it is
only one good day’s voyage. It was not, therefore, until the third day
that we reached the chief entrance of the mouth of the Teoge (for here
the river spreads out into several branches), where there is a bar.
The water was so low on it that although the stream was fast rising at
the time (August), we were forced to draw the canoes across it by main
force. It is true we might have avoided the inconvenience by proceeding
a mile or two to the westward, where a channel exists that is said to be
navigable at all seasons.
Our voyage across the Lake was attended with no incident worth recording,
but, on reaching the point just mentioned, I had a little adventure with
a leché, hundreds of which might be seen grazing and sporting among the
shallows and the numerous little islets of the Teoge.
I had gone in advance of my party in the hope of obtaining a shot; but
though I met with vast numbers of animals, the openness of the ground
prevented me from getting within range. Being quite tired by my severe
but fruitless exertions, I was resting on the rifle, contemplating
the novel and striking scene—the Lake, with its broad blue waters—its
finely-wooded shores—the varied and vast herds of animals—the Teoge, with
its numerous little channels and sedgy shores—when I saw, a little ahead
of me, two magnificent stag lechés approaching each other, evidently
with no friendly intentions. I was right in my conjecture, for in a few
seconds afterward they were engaged in combat. Taking advantage of this
lucky incident, I approached, unperceived, within a dozen paces, when I
quickly dropped on one knee and took a deliberate aim at the shoulder of
the nearest; but, just as I pulled the trigger, he received a violent
thrust from his antagonist, which made him swerve to one side, and the
consequence was that the ball, instead of piercing his heart, merely
smashed one of his hind legs. The animals, nevertheless, were so intently
engaged, that, notwithstanding the report of the gun, and the wounded
state of one of them (he probably attributed this to his adversary), they
did not observe me. Throwing aside the rifle, I drew my hunting-knife,
and thus armed, rushed upon the combatants. Just, however, as I was about
to bury the fatal weapon in the flank of one of the animals, they both
suddenly became aware of me, and fled precipitately. The wounded beast
at once made for the river, which was hard by, and though it was running
very swiftly at this point, perhaps not less than four or five miles an
hour, he plunged into the water.
Not being then aware of the aquatic habits of this species of antelope, I
was very much astonished, and for a while thought the beast would surely
be carried away by the violence of the current and drowned. But I was
soon undeceived; for he struck bravely out for the opposite shore, his
course being marked with streaks of crimson. On gaining the bank, he gave
one glance behind him, shook his bloody and drizzling coat, and made off.
I was determined, however, not to be beaten; and, as I had nothing on but
a pair of trowsers and a flannel shirt, I threw myself, as I was, into
the stream, and soon succeeded in reaching the opposite bank, when I at
once started in pursuit.
In this way, swimming and wading alternately, several rivulets, swamps,
and dikes were crossed and recrossed; but, for a long time, the result
was doubtful. At last, however, the poor animal slackened his pace,
staggered, and lay down, but again proceeded, though apparently with
pain and difficulty. Seeing this, I redoubled my exertions, and having
succeeded in turning him toward the Lake, I drove him right into the
water, which was here shallow, and where he several times stuck fast
in the mud. I now felt sure of my quarry; and, having approached
sufficiently near, I seized him by the wounded leg, and severed the
tendon at the knee-joint. The struggle between us now became severe. On
trying to lay hold of his horns, which were most formidable weapons, with
the intention of cutting his throat, he struck out with so much violence
as to upset me, and I was nearly smothered with mud and water. But the
poor creature’s course was run. His loss of blood and crippled state soon
enabled me to put an end to his miseries. He was a noble old stag—the
finest antelope of the species that I ever shot, and they were many; he
well rewarded me for all my exertions.
After passing the bar at the mouth of the Teoge, the depth of the water
increased, and the current flowed with less velocity—from two to three
miles per hour, I should say. For the first few days’ journey the country
presented a rather dreary and monotonous appearance, being frequently
flooded for many miles, thus converting the land on both sides into
extensive reedy marshes, only occasionally relieved by a pleasant group
of the date and the fan-palm. The banks were in many places so low that,
when bivouacking on shore, we often slept in the water. Even where the
banks rose a few feet above the surface, they were entirely undermined by
the stream; and if a stick was thrust through, water immediately appeared
in the hole. Fuel was exceedingly scarce, and could only be purchased
from the natives (thinly scattered along its banks), who not unfrequently
brought it from a very great distance.
On the fourth day the landscape assumed a more pleasing aspect; the
banks of the river became higher, and were richly covered with a rank
vegetation. There was the fan-palm, the date, the black-stemmed mimosa,
the wild and wide-spreading sycamore, the elegant and dark-foliaged
moshoma, and a variety of other beautiful, often to me new, trees,
many yielding an abundance of palatable and nourishing fruit. Timbo,
who accompanied me, recognized no less than six or seven kinds of
fruit-trees indigenous to the east coast of Africa and the adjacent
countries. The arboreal scenery, indeed, in some places exceeded in
beauty any thing that I had ever seen. I could have spent days under the
shade of some of these ornamental trees, resounding at times with the
wild notes of birds, while in the distance might be seen herds of the
finest of the antelope tribe. Yet common prudence forbids the traveler
to tarry. When the stream, after the annual overflow, begins to subside,
noxious effluvia are emitted, carrying death along with them. Such is the
climate of Africa!
[Illustration: ASCENDING THE TEOGE.]
Animal life was almost on a par with the exuberant vegetation.
Rhinoceroses, hippopotami, buffaloes, sassabys, hartebeests, pallahs,
reed-bucks, lechés, &c., were constantly seen, and every day some game
animal or other was shot. Thus I was able to support and satisfy our
large and hungry party, now consisting of fifty or sixty individuals.
One fine afternoon we came to a place where the tracks of buffaloes were
unusually numerous; and, having hitherto seen little of that animal, I
determined to halt for a day or two, in the hope not only of becoming
better acquainted with it, but of having good sport. The surrounding
scenery, besides, was attractive, which was an additional inducement to
devote a short time to rest and amusement.
The first night that I passed at a “skärm” was a failure in respect of
game, owing probably to my being to windward of the point whence the
buffaloes were likely to come, who, getting scent of me from a distance,
did not venture to approach my place of concealment. A small herd of
these animals, however, came within range of Timbo, whom I had also
placed in ambush some little way from me; but, as usual, he missed, and
they all went off unhurt.
Returning to the camp the following morning, the natives, on hearing of
our ill luck, looked so hungry and unhappy withal, that, although I stood
greatly in need of rest and refreshment, I again shouldered my rifle and
started off in search of game.
On this occasion I was accompanied by about a score of natives. A couple
of pallahs and a koodoo were soon bagged, but a noble sassaby that we met
with got off unscathed.
Afterward we searched long without finding any thing, but the numerous
tracks of buffaloes testified that this part of the country was a
favorite haunt of those animals. At last we came to the skirts of a dense
thicket; and, peering among the bushes, I presently espied several dark
objects on the ground, which at once struck me must be buffaloes. Placing
my finger on my lips as a sign that silence was required, and pointing in
the direction of the dark objects, I whispered the word “onja,” meaning
buffalo. Not the presence of his satanic majesty could have caused
greater consternation among my followers; for no sooner was the magic
word uttered, than one and all of them wheeled about, and made a headlong
retreat. One of the men was carrying a heavy rifle of mine, and wishing
to get possession of it, I followed in their footsteps. But this made
bad worse; for, seeing me also running, and thinking the enemy was at
their heels, they redoubled their pace, nor did they stop until at a most
respectful distance from the thicket. It was really absurd to see us thus
endeavoring to outrun each other.
Having at length overtaken the men and secured my rifle, I returned to
the spot whence I had first observed the suspicious objects; but, though
I approached to within a dozen paces of them, I was unable, from the
denseness of the cover, to make out their identity.
A tree was hard by; and, in the hope of obtaining a better view, I at
once ascended it. But in this matter I was disappointed, for even when
thus elevated I could see no better than from the ground. As the only
mode left me of satisfying my doubts, I now fired into the midst of the
dark objects in question; but not a living thing stirred. For a moment I
fancied I must have been in error, and that what I had taken for animals
were neither more nor less than huge stones. However, to set the point
at rest, after reloading, I sent a second ball in the same direction as
the first, and this time to some purpose, for at the report of the gun up
sprung to their feet four magnificent male buffaloes; and after tossing
their heads proudly, and sniffing the air for a moment, they broke cover
in good style, and, to all appearance, unhurt. I never saw them again.
Following leisurely on their tracks in order to ascertain whether any
of the beasts were hurt, a herd of buffaloes—at least two hundred in
number—suddenly rushed past us with the violence of a tornado, breaking
down and crashing every thing that opposed their headlong career,
and raising so great a cloud of dust as nearly to conceal their dark
forms from view. I fired into the midst of them at random, and had the
satisfaction to see a cow drop to the shot.
The report of the rifle brought the whole herd almost immediately to a
stand, and, facing round, they confronted us in one dark mass. Taking
advantage of a tree at some little distance ahead, I stalked to within
about one hundred and fifty paces of this formidable phalanx. Resting the
gun on a branch, I took a steady aim at the leading bull; but, though I
very distinctly heard the bullet strike him, he did not flinch in the
slightest degree.
One of the natives having by this time mustered courage to steal up to me
with my rifle, I fired a second time, though at another of the herd, but
with no better result. Six several times, at the least, did I repeat the
dose, and though on each occasion the ball told loudly on the animal’s
body, neither it nor any one of the herd (strange as it may appear)
budged an inch! They seemed to be chained to the spot by some invisible
power, eyeing me all the while with an ominous and sinister look. Their
strange and unaccountable bearing puzzled me beyond measure. I expected
every instant to see them charge down upon me. But, even had this
happened—though I am free to confess I felt any thing but comfortable—my
personal safety would not, perhaps, have been much endangered, as by
ascending the tree against which I was leaning I should have been out of
harm’s way. However, I was not driven to this extremity; for, while about
to ram down another ball, the whole herd suddenly wheeled about, and,
with a peculiar shrieking noise, tails switching to and fro over their
backs, and heads lowered almost to the ground, they made off at a furious
pace.
On proceeding to the spot where the buffaloes had been standing, I
observed large patches of blood on the ground, and felt convinced that
both the animals at which I had fired must have been severely, if not
mortally wounded. We followed their tracks for a considerable distance,
but saw no more of them. From information received from the Bushmen at a
subsequent period, however, there is little doubt that both perished.
The night closing in, I determined on once more lying in ambush. I waited
long in vain; but at last I observed a solitary buffalo—an immense
bull—slowly and cautiously approaching my hiding-place, stopping every
now and then to listen. When so near the “skärm” as almost to touch it,
I pulled the trigger, but, to my great annoyance, the gun snapped. On
hearing the click, the animal wheeled about and hurriedly retreated; but,
after proceeding about forty paces, he suddenly halted, and, turning
partially round, exposed his broadside. Having, in the interim, put
on another cap, I took advantage of his favorable position, and again
pulled the trigger. This time I succeeded in placing a bullet well in
the beast’s shoulder. The instant he received the shot he leaped high
into the air, and then plunged violently forward. Immediately afterward I
heard a deep moaning in the direction he had taken—an unmistakable sign
that he was mortally hurt. Nevertheless, what with the severe lesson
I had recently received from the black rhinoceros, and the well-known
savage nature of a wounded buffalo, I did not think it prudent to follow
him. The next morning, however, search was made, when he was found dead
within less than a hundred yards of my “skärm,” the ball having pierced
his heart.
Koodoos were also occasionally seen and killed. Of all that varied and
beauteous form of animal life to be found in the boundless woods and
plains of tropical South Africa, the koodoo is unquestionably the most
distinguished for elegance and gracefulness, united with strength. The
height of the male at the shoulder is about four feet. The general color
of his body is a “rufous gray,” marked with several white bars over the
back and croup. The male carries his exquisitely formed head, ornamented
with ponderous spiral horns of about three feet or more in length, very
erect, which gives him an air of nobility and independence. The koodoo,
in short; is a perfect picture; and “when standing broadside on, is
decidedly one of the grandest-looking antelopes in the world.”
The koodoo is not uncommon throughout the more wooded districts of
Damara-land; but, from its leading a very secluded life, it is not so
often seen as others of the antelope tribe. His favorite haunts are the
stony slopes of hills, overgrown with brushwood. In localities not much
frequented by man, however, and in the early part of the day, he may be
seen in more open ground, on the outskirts of woods, borders of vleys,
and banks of rivers.
His gait is very graceful; but his pace, which consists of a moderately
fast gallop, is less elegant. When pursued, he clears with considerable
agility bushes, stones, and other minor obstructions that may oppose his
course, his leaps being often of very considerable extent.
His food consists chiefly of leaves, buds, and the young shoots of trees
and bushes. He seems capable of going a long time without water, and only
occasionally frequents the pool.
The koodoo produces only one young at a time. His flesh, when in good
condition, is excellent, and the soup, or _bouillon_, made from it is
delicious. The marrow extracted from the bones is highly prized by the
natives, who deem it better than that obtained from any other animal.
They consequently devour it greedily, and without any kind of preparation.
The hide of the koodoo is greatly valued, as well by the hunter as the
colonist. It is rather thin, but exceedingly tough and pliable, and will
stand more wear and tear than any other hide of the same substance. It
is chiefly used for shoes, lashes of whips, thongs, straps, and harness
in general. A koodoo hide, well prepared according to the custom of the
country, is worth from twenty to thirty shillings; and, being much in
request among the farmers, is no despicable article of commerce for home
consumption.
The koodoo is naturally of a shy and timid nature; but the male, when
hotly pressed and wounded, will not unfrequently face about, and even
attack his pursuer.
This species of antelope is gregarious, though seldom seen in large
herds, five or six being the usual number. The males are frequently met
with singly.
As already seen, when taken young, this animal is easily domesticated,
and becomes very tame. Notwithstanding, to the best of my belief, no
specimen has ever been brought to this country alive.
From the koodoo’s secluded habits, fewer of these animals are killed—as
regards Damara-land, at least—than any other species of antelope
indigenous to Southern Africa. He is sometimes hunted on horseback, and
if a hunter has the good fortune to meet with one in a favorable and
open locality, there is no great difficulty in running it down; but as
the animal holds, for the most part, to hilly and stony ground, and such
as is wooded withal, the chase, even if successful, usually proves an
arduous one.
The preferable course is to hunt it on foot. Stalking the koodoo was
a favorite pursuit of mine, and many a noble stag have I thus laid
low. But, on account of the wooded nature of the country it inhabits,
the difficulty of approaching unperceived within gun-shot is very
considerable, and it is greatly increased by Nature, who, with her usual
wonderful provision, has provided the koodoo with the most exquisite
sense of hearing. Its large, prominent ears apparently act as a kind of
focus, against which any unusual noise or sound is quickly arrested in
its progress.
The Bushmen have a way of their own of hunting the koodoo, viz., by
running it down, not by speed of foot, but by gradually exhausting
it. When a hunt of this kind is decided on, a number of these people
assemble, armed with assegais, &c. Having started the animal, one of
the party takes up its “spoor” at a quick pace, the rest following
more leisurely. On feeling fatigued, the leading man drops behind his
comrades, and the next in order takes up the pursuit, and so on, until
they secure the prize. Sometimes this is effected in the course of a few
hours; but it happens, also, that the chase lasts for a whole day, or
even longer. All depends on the ground. If stony or rocky, the men have
an immense advantage over the animal, who, under such circumstances, soon
becomes foot-sore, lies down repeatedly, and, after a while, is found
unable to rise, when he is quickly dispatched. The women and children
carry water on these occasions for the hunters, so that, should the
animal prove very enduring, his pursuers may not be necessitated to give
up the chase for want of that indispensable necessary.