GIVES A FEW HINTS TO WOULD-BE HUNTERS, AND A FRIEND IN NEED IS
INTRODUCED.
In describing the principal incidents of a long journey, it is
impossible to avoid crowding them together, so as to give a somewhat
false impression of the expedition as a whole. The reader must not
suppose that our hunters were perpetually engaged in fierce and deadly
conflict with wild beasts and furious elements! Although travelling in
Africa involves a good deal more of this than is to be experienced in
most other parts of the world, it is not without its periods of calm and
repose. Neither must it be imagined that the hunters--whom hitherto we
have unavoidably exhibited in the light of men incapable of being
overcome either by fatigues or alarms--were always in robust health,
ready at any moment to leap into the grasp of a lion or the jaws of a
crocodile. Their life, on the whole, was checkered. Sometimes health
prevailed in the camp, and all went on well and heartily; so that they
felt disposed to regard wagon-travelling--in the words of a writer of
great experience--as a prolonged system of picnicking, excellent for the
health, and agreeable to those who are not over-fastidious about
trifles, and who delight in being in the open air. At other times,
especially when passing through unhealthy regions, some of their number
were brought very low by severe illness, and others--even the
strongest--suffered from the depressing influence of a deadly climate.
But they were all men of true pluck, who persevered through heat and
cold, health and sickness, until, in two instances, death terminated
their career.
It may not be out of place here to make a few remarks for the benefit of
those ardent spirits who feel desperately heroic and emulative when
reading at their own firesides, and who are tempted by descriptions of
adventure to set their hearts on going forth to "do and dare," as others
have done and dared before them! All men are not heroes, and in many
countries men may become average hunters without being particularly
heroic. In Norway, for instance, and in North America, any man of
ordinary courage may become a Nimrod; and even heroes will have
opportunities afforded them of facing dangers of a sufficiently
appalling nature, if they choose to throw themselves in their way; but
in Africa a man must be _really_ a hero if he would come off scatheless
and with credit. We have proved this to some extent already, and more
proof is yet to come. The dangers that one encounters in hunting there
are not only very great and sufficiently numerous, but they are
absolutely unavoidable. The writer before quoted says on this point: "A
young sportsman, no matter how great among foxes, pheasants, and hounds,
would do well to pause before resolving to brave fever for the
excitement of risking the terrific charge of the elephant. The step of
that enormous brute when charging the hunter, though apparently not
quick, is so long that the pace equals the speed of a good horse at a
canter. Its trumpeting or screaming when infuriated is more like what
the shriek of a French steam-whistle would be to a man standing on the
dangerous part of a railroad than any other earthly sound. A horse
unused to it will sometimes stand shivering instead of taking his rider
out of danger. It has happened often that the poor animal's legs do
their duty so badly that he falls and exposes his rider to be trodden
into a mummy; or losing his presence of mind, the rider may allow the
horse to dash under a tree, and crack his cranium against a branch. As
one charge of an elephant has often been enough to make embryo hunters
bid a final adieu to the chase, incipient Nimrods would do well to try
their nerves by standing on railways till the engines are within a few
yards of them, before going to Africa!"
Begging pardon for this digression, we return to our tale. While our
sportsmen were advancing in company with the bullock-wagons one evening,
at the close of a long and trying day, in which they had suffered a good
deal from want of good water, they fell in with another party travelling
in the opposite direction, and found that they belonged to the train of
a missionary who had been on an expedition into the interior.
They gladly availed themselves of the opportunity thus afforded of
encamping with a countryman, and called a halt for the night at a spot
where a desert well existed.
As they sat round the fire that night, the missionary gave them some
interesting and useful information about the country and the habits of
the animals, as well as the condition of the natives.
"Those who inhabit this region," said he, "have always been very
friendly to us, and listen attentively to instruction conveyed to them
in their own tongue. It is, however, difficult to give an idea to an
Englishman of the little effect produced by our teaching, because no one
can realise the degradation to which their minds have sunk by centuries
of barbarism and hard struggling for the necessaries of life. Like most
other savages, they listen with respect and attention to our talk; but
when we kneel down and address an unseen Being, the position and the act
often appear to them so ridiculous, that they cannot refrain from
bursting into uncontrollable laughter. After a short time, however,
they get over this tendency. I was once present when a brother
missionary attempted to sing in the midst of a wild heathen tribe of
natives who had no music in their composition, and the effect on the
risible faculties of the audience was such that the tears actually ran
down their cheeks."
"Surely, if this be so," said Tom Brown, "it is scarcely worth your
while to incur so much labour, expense, and hardship for the sake of
results so trifling."
"I have not spoken of results, but of beginnings," replied the
missionary. "Where our efforts have been long-continued we have,
through God's blessing, been successful, I sincerely believe, in
bringing souls to the Saviour. Of the effects of long-continued
instruction there can be no reasonable doubt, and a mere nominal belief
has never been considered by any body of missionaries as a sufficient
proof of conversion. True, our progress has been slow, and our
difficulties have been great; but let me ask, my dear sir, has the
slowness of your own journey to this point, and its great difficulty,
damped your ardour or induced you to think it scarcely worth your while
to go on?"
"Certainly not," replied Tom; "I don't mean to give in yet. I confess
that our `bag' is not at present very large--nothing compared to what
some sportsmen have had; but then if we persevere for a few months we
are almost certain to succeed, whereas in your case the labour of many
years seems to have been very much in vain."
"Not in vain," answered the other, "our influence has been powerfully
felt, although the results are not obviously clear to every one who
casts a mere passing glance at us and our field of labour. But you
speak of persevering labour in hunting as being almost certain of
success, whereas we missionaries are _absolutely_ certain of it, because
the Word, which cannot err, tells us that our labour is not in vain in
the Lord, and, besides, even though we had no results at all to point
to, we have the command, from which, even if we would, we cannot escape,
`Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every creature.'"
"Well, sir," said the major, with the air of a man who highly approves
of the philanthropic efforts of all men, so long as they do not
interfere with the even tenor of his own way, "I am sure that your
disinterested labours merit the gratitude of all good men, and I
heartily wish you success. In the course of your remarks to-night you
have happened to mention that peculiar bird the ostrich. May I ask if
you have seen many of late?"
The missionary smiled at this very obvious attempt to change the subject
of conversation, but readily fell in with the major's humour, and
replied--
"Oh yes, you will find plenty of them in the course of a few days, if
you hold on the course you are going."
"Is it true that he goes at the pace of a railway locomotive?" asked
Wilkins.
"It is not possible," replied the missionary, laughing, "to give a
direct answer to that question, inasmuch as the speed of the locomotive
varies."
"Well, say thirty miles an hour," said Wilkins.
"His pace is not far short of that," answered the other. "When walking,
his step is about twenty-six inches long, but when terrified and forced
to run, his stride is from twelve to fourteen feet in length. Once I
had a pretty fair opportunity of counting his rate of speed with a
stop-watch, and found that there were about thirty steps in ten seconds;
this, taking his average stride at twelve feet, gives a speed of
twenty-six miles an hour. Generally speaking, one's eye can no more
follow the legs than it can the spokes of a carriage wheel in rapid
motion."
"I do hope we may succeed in falling in with one," observed the major.
"If you do there is not much chance of your shooting it," said the
missionary.
"Why not?"
"Because he is so difficult to approach. Usually he feeds on some open
spot where no one can approach him without being detected by his wary
eye. However, you have this in your favour, that his stupidity is
superior to his extreme caution. If a wagon should chance to move along
far to windward of him, he evidently thinks it is trying to circumvent
him, for instead of making off to leeward, as he might easily do, he
rushes up to windward with the intention of passing _ahead_ of the
wagon, and sometimes passes so near the front oxen that one may get a
shot at the silly thing. I have seen this stupidity of his taken
advantage of when he was feeding in a valley open at both ends. A
number of men would commence running as if to cut off his retreat from
the end through which the wind came, and although he had the whole
country hundreds of miles before him by going to the other end, he
rushed madly on to get past the men, and so was speared, for it is one
of his peculiarities that he never swerves from the course he has once
adopted, but rushes wildly and blindly forward, anxious only to increase
his speed. Sometimes a horseman may succeed in killing him by cutting
across his undeviating course. It is interesting to notice a
resemblance between this huge bird and our English wild duck or plover.
I have several times seen newly-hatched young in charge of a
cock-ostrich who made a very good attempt at appearing lame in order to
draw off the attention of pursuers. The young squat down and remain
immoveable, when too small to run far, but they attain a wonderful
degree of speed when about the size of common fowls. It requires the
utmost address of the bushmen, creeping for miles on their stomach, to
stalk them successfully; yet the quantity of feathers collected annually
shows that the numbers slain must be considerable, as each bird has only
a few feathers in the wings and tail."
"Well," observed the major, shaking the ashes out of his pipe, "your
account of the bird makes me hope that we shall fall in with him before
our expedition is over."
"Do you mean to be out long?"
"As long as we can manage, which will be a considerable time," answered
the major, "because we are well supplied with everything, except, I
regret to say, medicine. The fact is that none of us thought much about
that, for we have always been in such a robust state of health that we
have scarce believed in the possibility of our being knocked down; but
the first few weeks of our journey hither taught some of us a lesson
when too late."
"Ah, we are often taught lessons when too late," said the missionary;
"however, it is not too late on this occasion, for I am happy to say
that I can supply you with all the physic you require."
The major expressed much gratification on hearing this, and indeed he
felt it, for the country into which they were about to penetrate was
said to be rather unhealthy.
"You are very kind, sir," he said; "my companions and I shall feel
deeply indebted to you for this opportune assistance."
"Are you quite sure," asked the missionary pointedly, "that you are
supplied with everything else that you require?"
"I think so," replied the major. "Let me see--yes, I don't know that we
need anything more, now that you have so kindly offered to supply us
with physic, which I had always held, up to the period of my residence
in Africa, was fit only to be thrown to the dog."