one of the great bustards cuts through the sea of air, and sinks down
into some low ground far away below us. This is not an unusual sight in
the late hours of the afternoon, and soon after we see not only some
more of the same species, but also three other bustards of a smaller
and commoner species that is more active in flight. It is the _Otis
gindiana_, which I have got to like so much on account of its charming
gambols on the wing, that must be a pleasure to every lover of birds.
At this time of day it carries on this strange tumbling in the air, and
if the day is hot and dry it makes for the neighbourhood of the water,
or in any case for certain hollow places of the velt that provide
it with at least a certain amount of soft vegetable food. Another
picture! A great flock of splendidly coloured crested cranes wings its
strong undulating flight and goes away over the hill. I notice in the
air the striking appearance of the snake-vulture and a pair of the
nimble-winged Bateleur eagles, the “sky apes” of the Abyssinians. My
gaze follows them eagerly into the distance.... In what various ways
the bird world displays its mastery of the realms of air! Our attention
is riveted now on the quiet gliding flight of the vulture in the
highest levels of the air, now on the spectacle of a struggle in the
air between some birds of prey and some ravens or bee-eaters that are
annoying them. Searching the ground as it goes, the augur buzzard
(_Butco augur_) wings its flight over the stone-strewn slopes of the
adjacent hill. Bateleur eagles wheel in graceful circles high in air,
let themselves fall down for several yards, and then shoot up again
heavenward. For hours at a time they will carry on their strong-winged
circling and plunging through the realm of air, apparently without
effort or fatigue. Various kinds of kites show themselves in their
oscillating flight, that makes them always so clever at escaping
the gun; amongst them large numbers of Montagu’s harrier (_Circus
pygargus_, L.), which at certain times of the year range restlessly
over the velt. Hawks and sparrow-hawks wing their rapid flight in
search of prey. In short, every kind and form of bird flight that one
can imagine! For instance, the proud majestic flight of the larger
species of vultures is essentially distinct from the heavy flight
of the small Egyptian vultures (_Neophron percnopterus_, L.), whose
flight the Crown Prince Rudolph of Austria most aptly described, when
he remarked that at a distance the bird might easily be mistaken for a
stork.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
BLACK-TAILED ANTELOPE BUCK PHOTOGRAPHED IN THE BUSH AT A DISTANCE OF
ABOUT EIGHTY YARDS.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A HERD OF ANTELOPES PHOTOGRAPHED IN THE BUSH AT FIFTY YARDS.]
It is indeed a great pleasure to follow with the eye all the wondrously
beautiful types of flight that the African birds of prey present to us.
The _enormous numbers of birds of prey_, in a land that is nevertheless
so rich in wild life, ought to suggest some salutary reflections to
those who, here at home, with such dogged persistence wage war with
guns and pole-traps against those creatures, which are so great an
ornament to the landscape. For my part, I would on every point support
the proposals of experienced men, like Freiherr von Besserer of Munich
and Dr. von Bocksberger of Marburg, who advocate protection even
for our birds of prey, at least within the Government domains. “Let
us try,” says Von Besserer, “still to preserve them at least within
certain limits. Let us grant them some few places of refuge. Let us not
arraign them too strictly for every theft, so that future generations
may also enjoy the spectacle of their beautiful flight.”
And now it seems, as if on some gigantic chess board, move after move
is being made on the plain below us. We have hardly remarked the wild
species already noted, when we suddenly find ourselves perplexed as to
which point we shall first direct our gaze to, which is to attract the
special attention of our eyes. To our right, two great herds of zebras
come rolling along, and ever as they move are now plainly visible, now
almost disappear, as if in regular alternation. To our left, on the
crest of a ridge that rises there, suddenly sharply defined silhouettes
appear--again it is a herd of gnus, and this time clearly one that
numbers at least a hundred and fifty head. While our attention is still
attracted by this beautiful spectacle, my trusty comrade Abdallah
suddenly lays his hand upon my arm and, only with a glance of his eyes,
indicates the little valley that lies stretched out below our feet.
This time there is good excuse for his caution. For there, looking
as if they were cast in bronze, two of the wonderfully beautiful
giraffe-gazelles stand staring up in astonishment at the place where we
are posted. It may well be that these timid children of the wilderness
here had never yet been disturbed by the strange sight of a human
figure. “Nyógga-nyógga!” whispered the lips of my comrade.
It is not often that one has the chance of seeing the nyógga-nyógga at
such close quarters, and besides, it is extremely difficult to watch it
without being noticed by it. It is so completely lost to sight in its
surroundings, and is so extremely timid and watchful, that I have very
seldom indeed succeeded in observing this splendid animal before it has
itself remarked my presence. When I succeeded it was almost invariably
towards evening when it had come out to feed. It is worth while to
take full advantage of such moments, for the slightest disturbance
instantly drives it away. And so it was now. It was not long before the
two nyógga-nyógga, with their long necks stretched out, disappeared
in the hollows of the broken ground that extended below the place
where we stood. After this I caught sight of them a few times standing
amongst the clumps of acacias, timid, surprised, and watchful; then the
gazelles betook themselves to the protection of the wide velt, looking
like mere points in the distance.
To me it seems as if the sonorous name that the Swahili language gives
them, and also the softer name that sounds so sweetly in the mouth
of a Masai,--“Nanyad,”--best and most fitly express their beauty,
strangeness, and grace.
Again we turn our attention to all that is going on below us. This
time it is the rhinoceroses, which have approached to within a few
hundred yards of my post, that most engage our attention. We observe
how they nibble here and there at the boughs of the _Salvadora persica_
and other shrubs, and then again rub their rough hide or their horns
against the strong trunk of a tree or on a block of stone. They have
all this time been coming gradually nearer to the herd of gnus that we
first noticed, and now at last they stand quietly on the level ground,
only a hundred paces away from the old gnu-bulls which are acting as
sentinels.
And now it is I myself who am the first to make out with the glass a
third rhinoceros. “Wapi, bwana?” my companion eagerly asks me, and as I
point out to him the place on the velt where I have picked the animal
out, he approvingly confirms my observation with the remark: “Ndio,
bwana, pharu mkubwa sana” (“Yes, master, a very big rhinoceros!”)
After some time we see that it is an old and unusually large bull;
he, too, has gradually taken the same line as his two colleagues. Our
observation proves to be correct, and we also remark before long that
the first pair of rhinoceroses we had noticed is made up of an old cow
and her nearly grown up young one.
More herds of zebras and gnus, and small troops of Grant’s gazelles and
of impallah-antelopes have come into sight, and now they are joined by
a whole crowd of hartebeests, which so far have kept themselves hidden
in a side valley of the velt full of thick tall grass.
And now the moving mass of animal life is ever more abundant, more
varied. I notice in the valley at the foot of my hill a string of
guinea-fowl; how they hurry and scurry about, flutter up with sounding
strokes of their wings, and then soon drop down again! And now my
attention is attracted by a pair of Bateleur eagles, that wheel in the
air, and enjoy themselves for an hour at a time playing on the wing.
They probably have made their eyrie not far from this spot.
[Illustration:
_C. G Schillings, phot._
MASAI HARTEBEESTS (_BUBALUS COKEI_, Gth.) (THE “KONGONI” OF THE
SWAHILI, “OL-KONDI” OR “OL-LUDJULUDJULA” OF THE MASAI).]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
GIRAFFE GAZELLE (_LITHOCRANIUS WALLERI_, Brooke) STANDING IN ITS
CHARACTERISTIC ATTITUDE BEFORE TAKING TO FLIGHT.]
For minutes at a time the cry of the francolin rings out clearly round
about my post; then again it is silent. My eyes can indeed see animals
of many kinds, and my sight ranges with restless efforts over the far
distance; but so far I have looked in vain for a form that is frequent
and familiar enough in this wilderness--the towering figure of the
“Twigga.”
Where can the giraffes be hiding to-day? Why have they not come out
to the still freshly green acacias in the far-stretching hollow to my
left, where I have already marked their presence for whole days at a
time?
And yet they are there, only I had failed to distinguish them. At last
I can make out their strange forms, as they graze there among the
acacias, and they stand out sharply under the oblique rays of the sun.
What poetry there is in the movements of all the various organisms that
our eyes behold! Every variety of gait, from the heavy, swinging, and
nevertheless rapid march of the pachyderms to the graceful speed of a
pretty gazelle, speaks in a language of its own to him who has become
familiar with the peculiar movements of this animal world. Just as at
the outset the strange appearance of an animal one sees for the first
time makes a surprisingly strong impression on one, so too does the
great difference in the gait of the various species. But they were
all soon familiar to me. So now at the sight of the giraffes I feel
a pleasure and delight in their quaint coming and going, their heads
appearing and disappearing, there below me in the midst of the green
bowers of mimosa leaves, high over which my view ranges. What laws must
be at work here too, by whose operation I am compelled to feel all this
to be so beautiful, so harmonious, so splendid! I grasp the meaning of
the words: “Therefore I believe that life will first open its eyes in
that world of which Goethe said: ‘There is still the life of life, and
this is only form.’”[32]
What a splendid sight there is from my lofty look-out! the whole of
this mighty spectacle displays itself almost without a sound that I
can hear. Only a few voices of birds, but no cry of any other animal
reaches my ears. But as the breeze rises more and more towards evening,
there begins in my immediate neighbourhood a strange and beautiful
concert, that is already familiar to me. And now, as the wind blows
more and more strongly through the perforated gall-nuts that hang
on every tree above us, there resounds through the desert silence a
strange melody, a strange language of musical notes that only the sound
of the Æolian harp can to some degree represent.
These nut-galls on the acacias are bored quite through, and in many
cases become the dwelling-places of small ants. If one disturbs them
by tapping on the outside of their strange habitation,[33] they come
swarming out to fight with the disturber of their peace! It is not
so often that their strange ways and doings concern a human being,
but it comes to pass to-day. The watchful observer takes delight not
only in the sound of these strange musical instruments, but also in
the thought that they give shelter to a little world of their own, a
peculiarly organised little state made up of living beings, just as the
wide endless wilderness below them is a state with the various larger
wild animals for its inhabitants.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
GRANT’S GAZELLES (_GAZELLA GRANTI_, Brooke).]
My diary records yet another kind of natural observatory, a giant tree
uprooted on a wooded river-bank. Here, as it were, in the gallery
of the wood, the huge trunk felled by the storm-wind offered me an
inviting seat among its branches, and thence I enjoyed many a sight of
the animal world around.
There I had a view of the river close at hand, and farther away many
clearings of the wood, which at this time of the year showed a rich
display of animal life. The ripening forest fruits had attracted into
this neighbourhood large packs of baboons. It was good to watch their
busy activity as I looked down from my observatory, where I sat hidden
by a thick growth of creeper. Great herds of antelopes, and especially
waterbuck and Grant’s gazelles, are regularly to be found in these wide
clearings of the woods. I remember some hours of the afternoon when
the life of the forest displayed itself here in a way that suggested
Paradise. I saw at the same time a large drove of the graceful,
wonderful pallahs, and, grazing in their immediate neighbourhood,
some twenty Grant’s gazelle bucks which had joined together to form
a great herd. The antelopes had scattered themselves over part of
the clearing, feeding on the fresh growing grass there, but all the
while keeping themselves somewhat apart from the herd of gazelles.
But they had gradually drawn near to a party of waterbuck which were
standing under an old shady tree, and now I had an opportunity of
watching for a long time these three varieties of antelope, all so
beautiful, yet so different. To my surprise, after some time they were
joined by nine stately eland-antelopes, whose white side-stripes made
them wonderfully prominent among the uniformly coloured coats of the
waterbuck. Amongst these animals some three hundred baboons were moving
about with a certain careless self-possession. They were all big ones,
keenly devoted to the hunt for insects, pulling up grass and turning
over stones. Some of the older individuals meanwhile scrambled up tree
trunks for a few feet, and thence kept a careful look-out for the
approach of any possible enemy.
I kept as still as a mouse, knowing well that the slightest movement
would betray my presence to the timid, keen-sighted monkeys.
Now a numerous herd of zebras moved through the wood and across the
clearing at a slow, careless pace. As they moved there was a bright
shimmering of the variegated stripes of the beautiful “tiger-horses,”
and again they would often be blurred into one uniform grey. They
mingled with the waterbuck, which took very little notice of them, and
evidently had known the zebras for a long time. It was wonderful to see
the proud waterbuck, with their horns, which are at once weapon and
ornament, and the stallion leaders of the zebra herd all continually on
the alert watching against their enemies.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
TELEPHOTO STUDIES OF VARIOUS ATTITUDES AND MOVEMENTS OF GRANT’S
GAZELLES.]
There is a scuttling over the ground, for the little mongoose family,
that live over there among the ant-hills, are making a sally from their
fortress. Snake-like in their swift movements, the graceful little
animals seem to glide along. Yonder two snake-vultures are looking for
reptiles. Numbers of other vultures and marabous have flown down to the
margin of the shallow water to bathe and drink.
Into the midst of all this gathering of animals there now come three
ostriches, making for the fresh green growth along the marshy edge
of the river-bank, and a number of francolins and guinea-fowl that
gradually come crowding out of the undergrowth into the clearing to
feed there. On the sandbank on which I look down as it extends far
along the course of the river, there are some thirty huge crocodiles
sunning themselves. I can see several smaller specimens of these
mail-clad lizards on a flat part of the river margin not far from the
sandbank.
Yesterday, too, six giant hippopotami paid a visit to this sandbank on
the primeval river, and left tracks that my eye can plainly see in the
glowing sunshine; to-day, however, I have waited in vain for them to
show themselves. But suddenly from the reed-beds on the opposite bank
of the stream the mighty voice of an old bull comes booming across to
me.
Over this most peaceful picture of animal life the tropical sun
blazes, casting deep shadows. At this hour of the day even the voices
of the birds are generally silent. Only the melodious piping of the
organ-shrike sounds somewhere near me, and often, too, the cries of one
or other of the baboons which is being corrected with bangs and cuffs
by an older member of the pack.
All the various kinds of animals assembled here get on quite peacefully
together. They often almost touch each other, without taking the
slightest notice of one another. Even the antelope bucks, adorned with
dangerously pointed horns, make not the slightest use of their sharp
weapons against the other species. All the time that I was looking down
from my lofty seat I saw nothing but peace and good-fellowship. And
yet how quickly a tragedy might interrupt this stillness and peace!
The tracks of lions and leopards down there, the crocodiles on the
sandbank, and the vultures hovering in the air told me that.
Often in this, and in other places, I have gained an insight into
the life and ways of the animal world, and I have thus passed many
enjoyable hours. Now one, now another species presented itself to
my observation, but it was seldom that I saw such a large number of
different species at _the same time_. But in all cases I have found
that man is a disturbing element in the midst of such pictures of the
animal Paradise. Even where I could feel sure that the appearance
of a white man, a European, was quite unknown to the animals of the
district, even then the very moment I showed myself the immediate
result was a panic-stricken flight.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
WHITE-BEARDED GNUS AND ZEBRAS TAKING REFUGE FROM THE MIDDAY SUN UNDER
THE SHADE OF THE MSUALLI TREE.]
I have still clearly before my eyes the picture that presented
itself to me as I emerged from the over-growth of creepers on the
boughs of that uprooted tree. First a shrill cry from the monkeys.
In a trice the little young ones were clinging to their mothers, and
with long bounds the whole crowd of them galloped away over the level
ground, hidden in a cloud of dust, and disappeared on the far side of
the clearing. There a good many of them halted to look back. Of all the
animals known to me only the baboons and the spotted hyenas take to
flight in this way. The spectacle has such a surprisingly strange and
unaccustomed, almost uncanny effect, that it always recurs to me when
I think of these animals.
The antelopes follow the example of the fugitive baboons, after first
rushing hither and thither, right and left, leaping wildly into the
air. At this moment the impallah-antelopes, especially, make a splendid
picture. Bounding along as if on springs of steel, they shoot up
several yards high into the air. Wherever the eye turns it sees the
graceful forms of these beautiful animals in all possible positions,
making long bounds, some four feet high off the ground, and in every
other attitude that one can imagine. But the end of all these splendid
pictures, each seen for a moment, is a general stampede. Whirling
clouds of dust in the far distance tell for some time longer which way
the fugitives have taken.
But it is not every day that such varied pictures, so richly stored
with the life of the primitive animal world of the tropics, present
themselves to the traveller. And it needs, too, a trained eye to
enjoy all the separate impressions in their combined effect, as making
up one masterpiece of Nature. But often, too, an almost too great
wealth of beauty gathered together in a small space presents itself
to our eyes. Thus, more especially, I keep a memory of these small
idyllic lakes of the wilderness, that are hidden away here and there
in the Nyíka district, and give a home to a wealth of animal life that
often seems almost too abundant. We sometimes find one of the most
interesting species of the larger mammalia, the hippopotamus, living
here in somewhat narrow quarters, but thus more easily accessible to
observation than in the great lake basins, where it lives in hundreds
or thousands, but where also it can much more easily get away from
the sight of the observer. It is true that one can see numerous heads
emerging from the water in the distance, one can mark the thin spray
of water blown from their nostrils, forming numbers of little fountain
jets that glitter in the sun. But the peculiar life and activity of
these giants of the animal world goes on chiefly at night, invisible to
our eyes. In the smaller lakes it is all different.
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
IN THE MIDST OF THE VELT IN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF THE GREAT
NATRON LAKE I FOUND A SOLITARY OLD ACACIA. THE DISTRICT WAS
NEARLY WATERLESS. THE TRUNK OF THE TREE SHOWED THE MARKS OF
ELEPHANTS THAT HAD RUBBED THEMSELVES AGAINST IT.]
[Illustration:
_C. G. Schillings, phot._
A TYPICAL LANDSCAPE WITH ACACIAS AND SCATTERED BOULDERS--THE
CAMPING PLACE OF MARAGO-KANGA NOT FAR FROM THE EASTERN ‘NJIRI
SWAMPS. NEAR THIS CAMPING PLACE MY PEOPLE SHOWED ME THE ALMOST
UNRECOGNISABLE GRAVE OF AN ENGLISH HUNTER WHO HAD BEEN KILLED
BY A BUFFALO. I HAD IT PUT IN ORDER, AND MY ASKARI (ARMED
FOLLOWERS) FIRED A VOLLEY OVER IT.]
I remember with pleasure a certain gathering of hippopotami in one of
the lakes that lie hidden away between Kilimanjaro and Mount Meru, and
which were discovered some years ago by Captain Merker. When I saw them
there were still living in them some hundreds of hippopotami, and it
was easy to watch their doings in the water. Gathered in herds they
played about in the water under the bright sunlight, showing little
sign of timidity. Especially the young ones, that were still going
about with their mothers, had so little fear that I sometimes saw them
rising almost completely out of the water. They were also sometimes to
be seen resting in the sunshine on the sandbanks by the lake margin.
Some of these lakes were of such small extent that the animals had to
come up to breathe at a distance of at most only some twenty yards from
the observer. But all the same they were generally inhabited by quite
a number of hippopotami. It was then a great pleasure to watch these
beasts for hours at a time, from the lofty look-out place provided by
the surrounding heights that rose steeply from the edge of the lake.
They kept up good fellowship with the crowds of water and marsh fowl
that give life to these lakes. All these animals displayed themselves
to the spectator at as close quarters and as plainly as in a zoological
garden. The rosy red pelicans fishing in flocks of hundreds at a time
presented the most charming contrast to the uncouth quadrupeds. Even
now in fancy these lakes come before my sight, lakes that lie far from
all human ways and doings in a silent solitude. Dark clouds float over
it. The proximity of the massive and dark Mount Meru often causes a
cloudy veil to hang over that volcanic plateau with its crater lakes.
Again I climb the steep cliffs that ring them round, and again my gaze
sweeps over the level surface of the water. But though there has been
no decrease in the numbers of the waterfowl that enliven the lakes,
the hippopotami have, alas! disappeared. I found on the occasion of my
last journey a small number still there, but I hear from Professor
Sjöstedt,[34] the Swedish naturalist, who lately visited these lakes,
that the hippopotami, who had made the lakes their home since dim
far-off times, have almost disappeared. The Boers[35] have killed
everything. I came upon one here some years ago who was killing a lot
of the hippopotami; others have followed up the work of this forerunner
with more serious results. Attempts to make settlers at home in
primitive regions are almost always inconsistent with a protection of
the primitive animal world, even though these animals inhabit lonely
upland lakes, hidden away in the wilderness, far from human settlements.
* * * * *
Thus in memory picture follows picture.