NECESSITY OF A GUN--STRANGE FOOTSTEP--A DISAPPOINTMENT--VICINITY OF THE
UMGANIE--DUIKER BUCK--MATUAN THE KAFFIR--VOCAL TELEGRAPH--REITBOK--A
HUMAN POINTER--SINGULAR CONVERSATION--APATHY OF THE RESIDENTS--KAFFIR
MESSENGERS--BUCK SHOOTING--THE BUCK'S TENACITY OF LIFE--A BUCK ON THREE
LEGS--DANGEROUS COUNTRY--A SPORTING RED-COAT--STRANGE SPORTSMEN.
After this attack on and by the elephants, I devoted my time to the
pursuit of the reit-buck (_Eleotragus reduncus_), the ourebi
(_Oreotragus scoparius_), the duiker (_Cephalophorus mergens_), etc.,
all of them found within a few miles of Natal. As these days' sport
are, with little exception, repetitions of each other, and therefore
possess interest only to the person concerned, I will select one or two
incidents, that stand well out in my memory, as amongst the most
interesting.
It is always advisable, in a country of this description, where the game
wanders and its locality is uncertain, never to be out without a gun.
You may wander for many miles and not see a single head of game in a
country that ought to be teeming with it; but you may stroll out one
hundred yards from your house and meet a noble buck who has come to take
a peep at you. He, of course, will not accept your invitation to wait
until you go in for your gun.
Scarcely an individual whom I ever met, and who had been long resident
in Natal, did not remark some time or other to me, "Oh! if I had had my
gun the other day, I would have shot so and so." In time, also, the gun
becomes no more troublesome to carry than a walking-stick.
I can mention many instances with regard to myself, where, not thinking
it at all probable that I should see anything worth shooting, I left my
gun at home. I have then had some teasing buck jump up in front of me,
and stand looking for half a minute, as if quizzing me, at perhaps forty
yards' distance, and then quietly canter off. "Oh! if I had my gun," I
moodily exclaimed. At last, I was rarely seen without it. "Going out
shooting?" was often asked me from this circumstance. "No; only for a
walk, or a bathe," I would answer. "Why have you your weapon, then?"
was generally considered a cutting remark. Many a small pair of pointed
horns, and many skins, would have answered the "why." I generally came
across something without looking for it.
The greatest annoyance that I met with from not having a gun was when
riding one day, with an officer of the commissariat, on the beach
between the Umganie and Natal Bay. I remarked some curious footprints
on the sand, and dismounted to see what they were. I could not identify
them, although I was well acquainted with most South-African trails. My
friend called my attention to their impressions all along the sand, and
far on ahead. As we looked in advance, we saw a large black object
moving nearly half a mile before us. We started off immediately in
chase, and soon neared it. I then saw that it was covered with long
fur, had short legs in front, and a kind of finny organ behind. It
appeared about ten feet long. Immediately it heard us galloping, it
made for the water. We were going so fast that we could not pull up,
and went past between the animal and the sea; so that before we could
return it had gained the water, and, taking a look at us, dived and
disappeared. Had I had my gun with me, I could have stalked to a spot
within thirty yards of it, by means of the sand-hills near the beach,
and a couple of bullets would no doubt have made us better acquainted.
I described this animal to several people, but none had seen a creature
like it. The Kaffirs had seen the spoor before, but had no name by
which to designate it.
[I have since seen descriptions and paintings of a sea-lion that
frequents some islands to the north-west of the Cape, and am inclined to
think that this creature was a traveller of that species.]
The country across the Umganie river was thickly-wooded, but inland it
was either open, or of that park-like description so common in many
parts of Africa. About eight miles across this river an English settler
lived, who had frequently asked me to put up at his house in case I went
for a day's shooting in his neighbourhood. I usually preferred availing
myself of some Kaffir's kraal; as the wild uncivilised native I found
more agreeable company than the general class of English or Dutch
emigrants: the naked savage was frequently the more gentlemanly fellow
of the two. In the present instance, however, my host was an exception;
he was an unassuming, hard-working man, and I accepted his proffered
offer of a shake-down, with thanks.
I sent on one of my Kaffirs with my shooting-pony the previous day, and
at daybreak, on a lovely morning in October, started from my tent for a
day's sport in this district. I had scarcely ridden half a mile from
our encampment on the Natal flat, when I noticed a small animal jumping
over some hushes that bordered the road about 150 yards in front. Upon
reaching the road, it stopped, and looked at me, and I then saw that it
was a duiker. I had placed a bullet in each barrel, and immediately
took a shot at the buck. I saw that the animal stumbled as I fired, but
it cantered on to a thick patch of bush on my right. I wanted to salute
it with the second barrel on its coming out, but, after waiting half a
minute or so without seeing it, I dismounted, and crept up to the bush.
On peeping in, I saw the duiker, lying on his side. I made ready for a
shot, and gave a loud whistle, but it did not move. Upon crawling into
the bush, I found that the buck was quite dead, the bullet having gone
through its ribs. I was not certain I had hit it at first, although,
when I fired, I fancied I heard the "thud" of the bullet. I applied the
knife, and carried the buck to the thick bush close by, where, selecting
a forked tree in a shady dell, the venison was hung up. From
information that I sent my Kaffirs, they called for it before sunset
that evening. They were too late: the intense heat, although the
venison hung in the shade, had placed the meat beyond even an epicure's
idea of what game should be.
I pursued my journey, and arrived soon after 8 a.m. at my host's. I
took some coffee and bread, the latter made from Indian corn, and soon
after, mounting my shooting-pony, I started for a kraal that had been
pointed out to me as the residence of an old Kaffir who was well
acquainted with the hiding-places of the bucks that frequented this
locality. I soon saw him, and found he was a man of about forty. It
is, however, very difficult to judge of a Kaffir's age; but he was
rather grey, nearly six feet in height, very muscular, and without an
ounce of superfluous fat. He was ready for sport at once, and
recommended me to leave my pony to graze near his kraal, as the place
where some reitboks were usually found, was so hilly and broken that he
did not think a horse would be of much use. On our road to the ground
which he had chosen as the most likely for game, he asked all sorts of
questions about me, and volunteered much information about himself. He
had committed that common sin amongst savages, of having too many
cattle, which had raised the envy of his chief, who consequently accused
him of witchcraft, and would have soon murdered him, had not the accused
party made a bolt, and placed himself some sixty miles within the
British boundary, but a beggar by comparison with his former condition.
He seemed, however, contented, and had now a few cattle and goats.
This part of the country was plentifully watered, and the numerous
ravines and marshy spots allowed the long reeds to escape the fires that
perform the part of mowers once or twice a year. In the heat of the day
the antelopes choose these cool retreats for shelter. The old Kaffir,
who rejoiced in the name of Matuan, led me to the top of a
slightly-wooded hill, and, pointing to an opposite ridge, nearly a mile
distant, he said, "_Nanqueer_."
[The Kaffir words that I have used throughout this work I believe are
incorrect in their orthography. For the uninitiated, however, I thought
it better to spell them as they sounded, as by adopting this plan, a
more complete idea can be obtained of the sound of the Kaffir language.]
I looked in the direction indicated, and there saw a few goats feeding,
and could plainly see a little Kaffir boy sitting beside them: the
transparency of the air in these latitudes almost does away with the
effect of distance. "_May-na-bo_!" then sang Matuan, resting very long
on the _may_, in a singing sort of way; and, without any apparent
exertion, a kind of shout from, the boy came thrilling through the air,
like the voice of a distant bird. "_Ou vel arpe umseke_?" sung Matuan.
"_Empeshear kona_," thrilled the boy. Matuan, giving a grunt of
approval, moved on. This I must translate to make intelligible:--the
_maynabo_ was to call the attention of the boy, a kind of "Holloa!" _Ou
vel arpe umseke_? meaning, Where are the reitboks gone? _Empeshear_,
indicating that they were over on the other side.
I have been frequently astonished at hearing the ease with which two
Kaffirs will carry on a conversation when separated by distances that
would be considered by us as entirely to interrupt verbal communication.
This conversation is accomplished by the tone and modulations of the
voice, as also the distinct divisions in the Kaffirs' language.
We walked on for nearly two miles under a burning sun. The heat was
intense, and my gun-barrels became so hot that it was with difficulty I
could hold the gun. The annoyance from numerous flies and insects,
whose bite was severe, added to the natural irritation that one
sometimes feels on a hot day. Matuan soon showed me a long ravine, full
of rushes and reeds, that looked a most likely place for a buck. We sat
down beside a little rippling stream, while we refreshed ourselves with
a draught of its pure water, and invigorated our spirits with a pinch of
powerful snuff, without which no Kaffir is entirely happy. While we
allowed time for these stimulants to produce their full effect, Matuan
detailed to me his plan of operations. He said that he would go on the
left of the ravine, and, keeping a little in advance of me, would shout
and beat the reeds. This proceeding would probably cause the bucks, if
there, to come out on the right-hand side, and run towards his kraal: he
therefore recommended me to keep on the right side, and look out for my
shot.
We started in the manner that he proposed, and had scarcely gone
half-way up the ravine, when a doe reitbok sprang out of the cover, and
cantered across in front of me at about eighty yards' distance. I fired
at her shoulder, and heard the bullet strike; she staggered and nearly
fell, recovered again, reeled a few yards, and came to the ground to
rise no more. Matuan shouted to me to look out for the ram; we waited a
few seconds, when, not seeing him, I explained to the Kaffir that I
should like to load. I had just placed the bullet on the powder, when
the ram burst out of the reeds, and bounding away a few yards, stopped
and looked full at me. I did not wait to cap the barrel that I had
loaded, but aimed with my second. Just as I brought the gun to my
shoulder, he gave a sharp clear sort of whistle to call his partner, and
dashed off. I let fly at him as he went, and saw a hind-leg dangling
useless and broken. Matuan rushed through the reeds, and was after him
like a hound. I followed as quickly as I could, but, being encumbered
with gun, bullets, etc., was, after a few minutes, "nowhere." I got
occasional glimpses of Matuan, who kept to the ridges of the hills, and
had evidently the game continually in sight. I made several short cuts,
and was only about two hundred yards behind the Kaffir, when he suddenly
dropped as though he were shot, and thus slipping down the hill,
commenced beckoning me furiously. When I reached him, he told me that
the reitbok had just lain down in some long grass over the hill, "so
far," he said, pointing to a tree near.
I waited till I recovered my breath again, and having now both barrels
loaded, I took off my hat, and, telling Matuan to keep quiet, crept up
in the direction that he had indicated. Upon reaching the top of the
hill, I slowly rose, and saw the wounded antelope standing on his three
legs, looking straight at me. I aimed at the chest and fired; the buck
reared straight up and fell over backwards. I knew there was not an
ounce of life left in him, so I walked back to Matuan for my hat. The
perspiration was pouring out of every pore of his swarthy hide and
trickling over his face, as much from excitement as heat; and when he
saw me thus quietly returning to him, a look of despair came over his
face, and he said, "_Yena mukile_" (He has gone away). I merely said,
"_Hamba si hamba_" (Let's be going), and walked to where the buck lay,
completely concealed by the length of the grass around him. Matuan soon
saw the reitbok, and jumping in the air with delight, shouted "_Wena
shiele_!" (You have killed him!) He then sat down beside the reitbok
for full a minute, gazing with delight on the anticipated steaks and
chops that he hoped would soon pass from outside the ribs of this animal
to the inside of his own. He pushed his fingers into the two
bullet-holes, and then waved his arm in indication of the dead doe
behind us; then held up his three fingers, pointing two at the wounds in
the buck before us, and waving one in the direction of the other animal
shot, as much as to say "Three shots, all hit." Then, as though he had
satisfactorily decided an important question, he placed his hand
horizontally across his mouth, looked steadily at me for half a minute,
and said, "_e-ar-nesa, wena inkosi_" (In truth, you are a chief). Poor
Matuan! he had not enjoyed such a feast of meat for many months as I
gave him on that and the following night.
We were obliged to get aid from a neighbouring Kaffir's kraal to convey
the meat home, each buck being more than we could comfortably carry. I
gave part of the venison to Matuan, and retained the remainder for the
benefit of my host.
A curious incident here happened, which struck me at the time as very
ridiculous.
A French emigrant was stopping at this house with my host, and being
unable to speak a word of English, he had great difficulty in making his
wants known. It happened that on leaving England I was a tolerable
French scholar, and could manage to converse; but a year of disuse, and
also the study of the Hottentot-Dutch and Zulu-Kaffir languages, had
driven all my French away, and upon being thus suddenly called upon, I
could scarce think of a word. This Frenchman had fortunately studied
the Zulu language, by books during his voyage out, and by practice since
his residence in Africa: we therefore carried on an interesting
conversation in this language. It seemed curious that two white men,
whose native countries so nearly joined, should be thus compelled to
communicate in a tongue so little known in the native land of either;
the Kaffirs themselves thought we were doing it merely for their
amusement, and sat grinning first at us and then at one another.
On the following day I shot a reitbok, a duiker, and three corans.
Several days of good sport were yielded me in this neighbourhood. I
found, however, that the bush close to Natal was teeming with buck, and
a buffalo was sometimes seen there. Several unsuccessful journeys after
the former taught me that more skill was required in shooting them than
I at that time possessed. By patience, perseverance, and the
instruction obtained from the Kaffirs, I at length acquired the art of
moving with silence and watchfulness through the mazes of the forest,
and was then rewarded by first-rate sport, and found this amusement one
of the most fascinating in this country.
I have known many men who were good shots and able sportsmen, fail
completely in the bush, from a deficiency in the qualities of patience
and caution; several of whom have gone day after day, and returned, not
only empty-handed, but without having seen a single head of game. Yet
two or three Kaffirs or Hottentots that I could name would make certain
of bagging a fine fat buck each day they devoted to the purpose, and
over the very same ground that had been drawn a blank by the other
sportsmen. It may be concluded, therefore, that some skill and
experience is requisite in the bush-hunter of Africa. So plentiful was
the game in the Natal district during my residence there in 1847, 1848,
and 1849, that even around Pietermaritzburg, within a mile of the
houses, I have shot bucks;--while partridges, pheasants, quail, and
snipe were also common. But the use of the bullet against the larger
animals is so fascinating a mode of sport, that it prevents the
South-African sportsman from attending much to the feathered game, which
are merely popped at for the purpose of putting them beside bread sauce
and Cayenne pepper. Two or three strings of reh-boks were to be met
with round the Pietermaritzburg hills, while reitbok and ourebis seemed
to come in daily from the surrounding country for the sole purpose of
supplying the gaps caused by the death of others of their species.
There was a tolerable monopoly in the shooting line here that was
curious. While the English traders, etc., still translated the national
motto of "_Honi soit qui mal y pense_," as "Slave away for money as long
as you live," the Dutchman merely saved his powder for a trip into the
interior, and the gentlemen who had nothing to do for their living
seemed to do nothing for their pleasure. The consequence was, that not
half a dozen men were ever seen to go out shooting at all regularly.
This may appear strange, when we consider the quantity and quality of
the game; but, perhaps, the luxury of the climate relaxes the energies
of those who may be long resident, and their greatest happiness,
consequently, is repose; they thus wisely avoid many troubles and
annoyances that more mercurial or enterprising temperaments may meet.
Upon proceeding to Pietermaritzburg, I found that I had a pleasant
little manor, extending for about fifteen miles in every direction,
plentifully supplied with reitbok, ourebis, duikers, reh-bok, bustard,
pheasant, partridge, guinea-fowl, and sometimes a wild-boar and a stray
hyaena or leopard. I adopted an original plan for my day's sport.
Sending for one of my Kaffirs, I would give him a pound of beef and some
snuff, and tell him to go on to the top of a hill which I would point
out to him, and request that he kept me in sight all day. This hill
would be some seven or eight miles distant. I would then send for
another Kaffir and give him similar directions, pointing to a second
hill, perhaps four miles from the first.
These Kaffirs, who worked for _five shillings a month, and nearly found
themselves_, were capital fellows, and obeyed orders without a murmur.
Sometimes, at Natal, I would call a Kaffir, and say, "So-and-So, tabata
s'incwade, musi inglovu," (this would be broken Kaffir for "Take this
letter to Pietermaritzburg, wait for an answer, and come back")--_only
fifty-three miles_! In about ten minutes this Kaffir would be seen
going off with a little skin-bag filled with corn, the letter carefully
inserted in a split stick, whilst he occasionally worked his arms about
in all the pleasant imaginary castle-building of knocking over enemies
or wild beasts. In three days he would come back, with the single
remark, "_Fikile_" (arrived), and deliver the answer to the note.
After starting the Kaffirs to their lookout stations, I could
comfortably take my breakfast, do any business that was required, and
then mount my horse and canter out to the ground that might have been
selected for that particular day's sport. Then riding through the long
grass, and beating up the ravines, the antelope would soon be bounding
away in all directions. Now came the sport. The grass being nearly
five feet long, it was necessary to fire from the saddle, and it was
very pretty to see the shooting-pony, with an instinct almost equal to
reason, following the dog in every turn, and doing so without a touch of
the reins, standing also like a rock when a buck sprang up. Away the
antelope would rush, making (if an ourebi) perpendicular leaps of at
least two yards in the air, and then scouring over the plain. But a
quick messenger would soon be after him, and the sound of the bullet
striking would be frequently the only indication of a successful aim.
The buck might drop-dead if struck in the neck, the shoulder, or the
kidneys; if in other parts, he frequently galloped off with a doubled-up
and cramped action. The hitherto quiet dog would then come out in a new
character, and give chase to the buck, while the pony would have to do
his best to live with the two. A mile or so would decide the thing.
Upon the buck being vanquished, no trouble was then taken in cleaning
him; the pony is off-saddled,--immediately takes a roll, and commences
grazing, while dog and man look out for the nearest stream of water to
obtain a drink and to cool themselves from the effects of the burning
sun.
In about half an hour one of my Kaffirs would be seen jogging over a
hill, and making his way straight down to the dead antelope. He cleans
it, and, if it is too heavy for him to carry alone, seeks for aid in the
nearest kraal, distant sometimes three or four miles; by signalling, he
saves himself great part of the journey. The half of the buck would be
an ample reward for the service of an additional man; and the venison is
thus sent home, while the pony is saddled, and the sport again proceeded
with.
During the first fortnight that I was engaged at this sport I shot only
three bucks, although out eight times, and having several fair shots
each day. I thought that I was bewitched, and had suddenly an attack of
the crooked eye; but, upon mentioning in confidence to a friend, Major
K--(as perfect a gentleman and gallant a sportsman as ever trod on
African soil), what had happened, he told me that very probably I had
wounded many more of these animals, but that they had dropped when out
of sight. He proposed going out with me one day, an offer that I was
delighted to accept;--and I may here mention that many of my earliest
and best instructions were received from him. When riding a few hundred
yards from Major K--, I fired at a fine ram reitbok, that got up about
fifty yards in advance. I thought I saw a little lurch in his action as
the bullet went by; but, not observing any other sign, I remained for an
instant quite still. Major K--then called out, "After him," with which
direction I complied, and followed in the buck's wake for fully half a
mile. He seemed to be going quite comfortably, and I began to think
there was no use in thus pursuing, when he stopped and looked at me. I
jumped off my horse, and was quickly on the ground; but the buck was
down first. I ran up to him, and found that my bullet had entered the
back without touching the bone or principal muscles, had passed through
his body, and come out in the breast; he was bleeding at the mouth, and
lay quite dead. Major K--, on coming up, told me that this apparent
toughness as regarded life was, during his experience, by no means an
uncommon thing. The secret of the crooked eye was now explained, and I
afterwards made a practice of watching for a considerable time bucks
that I had fired at, unless I was perfectly certain that I had missed
them. So tough were some of these reitbok, that a gentleman once told
me that he thought, after the first bullet, all others seemed to do them
good. It was not quite as bad as this, although the following instance
that happened to myself may give an idea of their tenacity of life.
I sighted a buck, and saw him lie down in some long grass. Leaving my
pony at some distance, I stalked up to the buck; he rose, and afforded
me a fair shot at twenty yards. I gave him a dose of buckshot near the
shoulder, which knocked him over. He jumped up again instantly, and
went away on three legs. Not having my dog with me, I ran back to my
pony, and mounting him, galloped to the hill over which the buck had
disappeared. I looked all round, but could discover no signs whatever
of the reitbok. I held up my hand, in order to find which way the
little wind that there was happened to be blowing, and, riding with my
head to the wind, went nearly a mile without seeing a sign of the buck.
I was about making a fresh cast, when I noticed a few reeds on ahead; I
went towards them, and, upon getting within one hundred yards, saw my
wounded buck jump up and gallop off. With his three legs he could beat
my pony's four. So I pulled up, and tried a long shot at him. He got
it in the stern, stumbled, recovered, and held on. I loaded, and kept
him in sight, thinking he would certainly drop. But no such luck; he
staggered along, and was getting away from me, when I saw that he was
going down a steep hill at a pace as though he had his legs sound. At
the bottom of this hill there was a large watercourse, about twenty feet
wide and ten deep. He could not stop himself when he saw this in front,
owing to having but one front leg sound, but tried to leap it. This he
failed in doing by a long way, and dropped with a crash to the bottom of
the ravine. My pony had been much interested in the chase, and was
nearly following suit by rushing into this watercourse. As I was going
at speed down the hill, and had my gun in my right hand, I could with
difficulty pull him up with my left. I jumped off, and ran to the edge
of the ravine, where I saw the reitbok trying vainly to leap up the
steep bank. I gave him a third shot, which dropped him dead. It was
astonishing to see with what wounds he had held on; the dose of buckshot
had made his shoulder look as though it suffered from a severe attack of
smallpox; and the second bullet had gone half through him,--a raking
shot. Some Kaffirs who were passing soon after conveyed him home for
me; and he proved to be, by scale, one of the heaviest bucks that had
been shot near Pietermaritzburg for some time. Upon telling this to a
facetious friend who came to look at the trophy, he said that it was no
wonder, considering the quantity of lead that was in him.
I had several very pretty courses after wounded buck around the country
near this village, or town as the Natalians would like it called. On
one occasion, by keeping the hills, I saw my dog follow and pull down
very neatly a wounded reh-bok. This dog would occasionally point, but,
having a good dash of the foxhound in him, he made a useful
servant-of-all-work.
If I shot a large reitbok, and could not obtain assistance from Kaffirs
to convey him home, or found him too heavy to lift on to my pony, I used
to take the two haunches, and pass the girths through a slit cut between
the back sinews of each leg and the bone, and thus mount them astride
behind the saddle, leaving the remainder of the venison either to be
sent for afterwards, or as an offering to the jackals, etc.
I was walking one day about the kloofs near this town, when I heard a
noise like running water; I listened attentively, and was convinced I
heard its ripple, although the ground was apparently unbroken.
Approaching carefully through the grass, I came suddenly to the mouth of
a naturally-formed pit about forty feet deep, with a stream running
through it at the bottom; the aperture was only about eight feet wide,
and quite concealed by long grass; but below, it opened out
considerably. This was a nice sort of place to fall into when galloping
after a buck, or making a short cut at night. There is no one here to
stick up a post with "dangerous" on it, or to hang a lantern near a hole
of this description at night. In twelve hours, were any accident to
happen, one's very bones would be picked and ground to powder by the
hyaenas, vultures, jackals, etc. There are many of these holes in
Africa, although some are not quite so bad as the one I have described;
they are still quite dangerous enough, and serve in a gallop to keep up
the excitement, as well as an "in and out" or a "stiff rail," in an
English fox-hunt.
I witnessed a most amusing scene on the hills, about eight miles from
Pietermaritzburg.
As I was sitting down one day to allow my horse his rest and feed, I
noticed a red-coated gentleman riding along in the valley below, and
soon saw that he was a non-commissioned officer of the regiment
quartered at the time at Natal; he had a gun, and was evidently out
taking his pleasure, on leave for a day's sport. He drew all the kloofs
and grass that I had tested half an hour before, unconsciously passing
over my plainly written horse's footmarks, with a laudable perseverance
that deserved success. Presently an eagle or large hawk flew past, and
settled some distance on ahead; red-coat followed, and, when near the
spot, tried to keep his horse steady; it did not seem to quite
understand the matter, and decidedly refused to stand still. A little
of the bullying usually practised by unskilled riders then commenced; he
spurred the animal, and then chucked it in the mouth with the sharp
curb; strange to say, this proceeding failed in making the stupid
_equus_ more quiet. At last the man dismounted, and, carefully drawing
the reins over its head, and taking the saddle off, he looked at his
steed in a kind of suspicious way, but left it standing, and proceeded
to stalk the eagle. He got up pretty close, when the bird flew away; he
took aim, and--bang, bang!--produced not even the effect of ruffling a
feather. Loading his gun, this unsuccessful marksman now returned to
the horse, which, giving a shake of its head, turned round and walked
quietly away. I heard shouts of "Wo! wo!" sent after the horse, with a
heavy charge of strong language to propel them; still the animal did not
seem to understand; the soldier's walk became a run, and so the horse
galloped, and won the race easily, kicking up its heels in the excess of
its joy. This was more than the warrior's temper could stand; he had
missed the bird, but he thought he could manage the horse. Hot and
enraged, he pulled up, and let fly both barrels at his charger. He
seemed to have made a better shot this time, as the horse gave a jump,
and started at speed towards home, while the soldier had the
satisfaction of carrying his saddle for about eight miles under a
burning sun, on a day when the thermometer would have shown 95 degrees
in the shade. I would have given anything to have heard how this Nimrod
described his day's sport to his comrades on his return home. Another
somewhat similar case occurred about this time, with the exception that
the gentleman _killed_ his horse, instead of merely driving him home;
and the strangest fact was, that this representative of his stud was
nearly the only animal that he did kill with a gun during his residence
in Africa.
After an emigrant ship arrived, strange sportsmen sometimes were seen
about the Natal bush, armed with an old gun, and clothed in cast-off
garments that smacked more of Whitechapel than of African build; they
would prowl about the roads in lots of two or three, shooting from their
one gun by turns, at the small birds that had hitherto been left in
peace. I once saw a couple of men watching in intense excitement for a
shot at some poor monkeys, and utterly unconscious that half a dozen
wild elephants were smashing the bush in rage, from a wound given to one
of the herd by my bullet, not a couple of hundred yards from them.