FROM SHOSHONG TO THE GREAT SALT LAKES.
Khame and Sekhomo--Signs of erosion in the bed of the Luala--The
Maque plains--Frost--Wild ostriches--Eland-antelopes--The first
palms--Assegai traps--The district of the Great Salt Lakes--The
Tsitane and Karri-Karri salt-pans--The Shaueng--The Soa
salt-pan--Troublesome visitors--Salt in the Nataspruit--Chase of
a Zulu hartebeest--Animal life on the Nataspruit--Waiting for a
lion.
IT was quite obvious that since my previous visit a great change
for the better had taken place in the social condition of the
Bamangwatos. At that time Sekhomo had been at the head of affairs, and,
indefatigable in promoting heathen orgies, had been the most determined
opponent of every reform that had tended to introduce the benefits of
civilization. Khame, his eldest son, who had now succeeded him, was the
very opposite of his father; the larger number of the adherents who had
followed him into his voluntary banishment had returned with him and
placed themselves under his authority, so that the population of the
town was increased threefold. Khame’s great measure was the prohibition
of the sale of brandy; it was a proceeding on his part that not only
removed the chief incentive to idleness, but conduced materially to
the establishment of peace and order, and made it considerably easier
for him to suppress the heathen rites that had been so grievously
pernicious.
[Illustration:
_Vol. II._ BATTLE ON THE HEIGHTS OF BAMANGWATO.
_Page 43._]
In company with Mr. Mackenzie I paid several visits to Khame, and had
ample opportunity of becoming acquainted with his good qualities. My
time was much occupied with excursions, in working out the survey of
my route between Linokana and Shoshong, and in medical attendance upon
sick negroes. Khame offered me one of his own servants to accompany me
to the Zambesi, and upon whom I could rely to bring back my waggon to
Shoshong, if I should determine to go further north. As remuneration
for the man’s services, I was to give him a musket.
Mr. Mackenzie pointed out to me the various places that had been
of any importance in the recent contest between the kings. I have
already mentioned how Khame, on leaving the town, had been followed by
the greater number of the Bamangwatos to the Zooga river, where the
district was so marshy that the people were decimated by fever, and
Khame was forced to abandon the settlement he had chosen. Resolved
to return to Shoshong, he proceeded to assert his claim, not in any
underhand or clandestine manner, but by a direct attack upon his father
and brother. He openly appointed a day on which he intended to arrive;
and advancing from the north-west, made his way across the heights to
the rocks overhanging the glen, and commanding a strong position above
the town. Sekhomo meanwhile had divided his troops into two parts, and
leaving the smaller contingent to protect the town, posted the main
body so as to intercept Khame’s approach. Augmented as it was by the
people of the Makalaka villages, Sekhomo’s army in point of numbers
was quite equal to that of his son; but, as on previous occasions,
these Makalakas, fugitives from the Matabele country, proved utterly
treacherous; although they professed to be Sekhomo’s allies, they had
sent a message of friendship to Khame, assuring him that they should
hold themselves in readiness to welcome him at the Shoshon pass.
Khame’s attack was so sudden that Sekhomo’s troops were completely
disorganized, and before they had time to recover themselves and
commence a retreat, the conqueror took advantage of the condition of
things to bring his men on to the plateau where the Makalakas had been
posted. These unscrupulous rascals being under the impression that
Khame’s people had been worsted, and being only anxious to get what
cattle they could find, opened a brisk fire, a proceeding which so
exasperated the Bamangwatos that they hurried up their main contingent,
and having discharged a single volley, set to and felled the faithless
Makalakas with the butt ends of their muskets.
In contrast to the incessant rain which had marked my previous visit,
the drought was now so protracted that my cattle began to get rather
out of condition, but not enough to prevent my starting for the Zambesi
on the 4th of June. We proceeded up the Francis Joseph valley, and
turning northwards, reached the high plateau on the following day by
the way of the Unicorn pass. The scenery was very pretty, the sides of
the valley being ever and again formed of isolated rocks, adorned most
picturesquely with thick clumps of arboreal euphorbiaceæ.
On the 6th our course led us across a plain, always sandy and
occasionally wooded; and it was quite late in the evening when we
reached the Letlosespruit, a stream which never precipitates itself
over the granite boulders with much violence, except after heavy rain.
The upper strata of the adjacent hills, where ground game is abundant,
consist in considerable measure of red sandstone, interspersed with
quartzite and black schist, the lower being entirely granite.
The limit of our next day’s march was to be the pools at Kanne. Ranged
in a semicircle to our right were more than thirty conical hills,
connecting the Bamangwato with the Serotle heights. There was a kraal
close to the pools, and the natives, as soon as they were aware of our
approach, drove their cattle down to drink, so that by the time we
arrived all the water was exhausted, and fresh holes had to be dug.
On the 8th we reached the valley of the Lualaspruit, where the
vegetation and surrounding scenery were charming. The formation of the
rocks, and especially the signs of erosion in the river-bed were very
interesting; in one place were numerous grottoes, and in another were
basins or natural arches washed out by the water, which nevertheless
only flowed during a short period of the year. The ford was deep and
difficult. On crossing it I met with two ivory-traders, one of whom,
Mr. Anderson, had been formerly known to me by name as a gold-digger;
they had been waiting camped out here for several days, while their
servants were ascertaining whether the district towards the Maque plain
was really as devoid of water as it had been reported. The Luala and
its affluents were now quite dry, and water could only be obtained by
persevering digging. Mr. Anderson’s people brought word that the next
watering-place could not be reached in less than forty-eight hours, and
I immediately gave orders for food enough for two days’ consumption
to be cooked while we had water for our use. We fell in with Mr.
Anderson’s suggestion that we should travel in his company as far as
the salt-lakes.
[Illustration: GROTTOES OF THE LUALA.]
After ascending the main valley of the little river, on the evening
of the 10th we reached the sandy and wooded plateau thirty miles in
length, that forms a part of the southern “Durstland.” The scarcity of
water in front of us made it indispensable that we should hurry on,
and after marching till it was quite dark, we only allowed ourselves a
few hours’ rest before again starting on a stage which continued till
midday, when the excessive heat compelled us once again to halt. No
cattle could toil through the deep sandy roads in the hottest hours
of the afternoon, so that rest was then compulsory. By the evening,
however, we had reached the low Maque plains, remarkable for their
growth of mapani-trees; in all directions were traces of striped gnus,
zebras, and giraffes, and even lion-tracks in unusual numbers were to
be distinctly recognized. We came across some Masarwas, who refused to
direct us to a marsh which we had been told was only a few miles away
to the right; they were fearful, they said, of being chastised by the
Bamangwatos, if it should transpire that they had given the white men
any information on such a matter.
The whole of the Maque plain, which is bounded on the west by
table-hills, and slopes down northwards to the salt-lake district,
consists entirely of mould, equally trying to travellers at all seasons
of the year, being soft mire during the rains, and painfully dry
throughout the winter season. In the hands of an European landowner,
however, that which now serves for nothing better than a hunting-ground
might soon be transformed into prolific corn-fields and remunerative
cotton-plantations.
By the time we reached the pools our poor bullocks were quite done up.
The ivory-traders had pushed on in front and reached the place before
us.
We were here overtaken by a messenger from Khame, who had been
despatched to visit all the Bamangwato farms, and to leave the king’s
instructions that no hunters should be allowed upon any pretext
whatever to remain at any watering-place for more than three days. This
prohibition had been brought about by the conduct of the Boers, who
had been going everywhere killing the game in the most indiscriminate
manner for the sake of their skins, and leaving their carcases for the
vultures. The order was probably reasonable enough, but it came at an
unfortunate time for us, as the natives at once took us for hunters,
and consequently were occasionally far from conciliatory in their
behaviour. The very spot where we had encamped had been visited by the
Boers only about two months before, and we found a number of the forked
runners on which they had dragged the animals behind their waggons.
[Illustration:
_Vol. II._ TROOP OF OSTRICHES. _Page 49._]
North of the Maque plain large serpents are often to be met with.
Although they are by no means uncommon in Natal, they are rarely
found on the hills of the southern Bechuana countries. Some plants of
a semi-tropical form are here represented, not the least noticeable
among them being the mapani-tree, with its oleaginous leaves and porous
brittle wood. Nevertheless, the temperature in winter is often low,
though perhaps not to the same extent as on the table-land on the Vaal
and Orange rivers, which is 1200 feet higher. One morning during our
stay the pools had a coating of ice nearly half an inch thick.
Whilst hunting a large snake in a thicket on the afternoon of the day
after our arrival, I was startled by a loud shout from the waggon.
Hurrying back, I found Mr. Anderson all excited because a herd of wild
ostriches had just rushed by him on their way to drink at the pool; the
sight, however, of the waggon had somewhat alarmed them, and they had
turned aside into the mimosa-wood, where they were being chased by the
drivers. The pursuit was long and arduous, and the men at last had to
return hot and tired, without having been able to get within gunshot of
one of the birds.
Still keeping with Mr. Anderson, we started off again next morning,
making our way northwards towards a spring seventy miles away, known
to the Boers as Bergfontein. In these waterless districts glades of
tall grass and rushes alternate with light mapani-woods, game being
abundant everywhere. We were overtaken on our way by some Makalaharis
and Masarwas proceeding to an eland-hunt, armed with assegais.
Of all the antelopes the eland, especially the male, is the most lusty
and well-fed, its heart having been known to be imbedded in a mass of
fat weighing twenty-five pounds; the animal is consequently generally
so short-breathed that it can be readily overtaken and speared. The
Masarwas are very fleet-footed and skilful in hurling their assegais
so as mortally to wound the heart or lungs. Mounted Dutch and English
hunters chase the elands in the same way as giraffes right up to
their waggons, where they shoot them down, thus sparing themselves
the trouble of having to transport the skins or carcases from the
hunting-ground. I have been told both by hunters and natives, and I
think it quite credible, that without any great difficulty elands may
be tamed and trained to draw or to carry light burdens.
Shortly afterwards we met two Bamangwatos armed with muskets, and
driving a couple of oxen laden with meat. They were accompanied by five
Masarwas, each of them also carrying a load of meat weighing over fifty
pounds. The party was on its way to Shoshong to get instructions from
Khame as to its future proceedings, as some of the Makalakas, banished
for their treachery, were prowling about the northern confines of the
kingdom, and preventing the Masarwas from rendering allegiance to their
rightful master.
Bergfontein, at which we arrived early on the 17th, is a spring
situated on a woody slope; it is regarded by the natives as the source
of the Nokane stream, which flows northwards, but only in the rainy
season. The slope, which is very rugged and clothed with luxuriant
vegetation, is the declivity of the Maque plain down to the great
salt-lakes. At a short distance from the bank of the Nokane spruit
the traveller from the south is greeted by the sight of a cluster
of fan-palms, a foretaste of the wonders of tropical vegetation;
overtopping all the surrounding trees, they were probably the most
southerly specimens of that queen of palm-trees in Central Africa. I
shot down some examples of the fruit, and added them to my collection.
Encircling the base of the slim stems that were crowned with the
magnificent foliage was a wonderful undergrowth of young plants that
had germinated from the fallen fruit, the leaves of which had already
assumed fine proportions, and were rapidly developing into their
fan-like form.
[Illustration:
_Vol. II._ MASARWAS CHASING THE ELAND.
_Page 50._]
In the broad but shallow bed of a spruit that lay on the side of a
gentle slope, I found a shrub that reminded me of a baobab; it was
between four and five feet in height, its lower part immensely thick
and fleshy, and covered with a yellowish bark; but scarcely a foot from
the ground it contracted into little branches only two or three inches
thick, that proceeded direct from the great superficial root. Some of
these stems weighed several hundredweight, and on some future occasion
I shall hope to obtain a specimen for myself.
From the Makalaharis and Masarwas residing hereabouts I obtained a
variety of ornaments and some domestic utensils made of wood and bone,
but I was unfortunate enough afterwards to lose them all.
[Illustration: PURSUED BY MATABELE.]
All around the hills for the most part were thickly wooded, having no
paths except the game-tracks leading generally towards the Nokane.
Over these tracks the natives are accustomed to set assegai-traps for
catching the game at night; a pile of underwood is heaped up to bring
the animals to a standstill; a grass rope with one end very loosely
attached to a short stake is carried across the path about a foot above
the ground, and supported horizontally by two uprights and a cross-pole
placed on the opposite side; the rope is thence taken up to the nearest
overhanging bough, and an assegai left suspended from the other
end. The slightest jerk made by the movements of the game suffices
to detach the loose end of the rope, and the assegai immediately
falls. The assegai used for this purpose is generally of very rude
construction, being nothing but a rough pole with a rusty spear-head
fixed at the end; but its efficiency is due to the point being dipped
in a most deadly poison. The wound inflicted by the descending weapon
is generally slight in itself, and although only a scratch may be made
in the neck, the victim is doomed, as the poison is sure to take quick
effect. In the winter months snares of this kind are continually being
set, and are always visited as frequently as possible, that the carcase
may be dissected soon after death; the flesh close round the wound is
cut away, but all the rest is considered by the natives to be perfectly
fit for food. Once, while in pursuit of some koodoos, one of Anderson’s
people narrowly escaped running into an assegai-trap, being only warned
by his servant just in time, and I have myself in the course of my
rambles come upon several tracks stopped up in this way.
I wandered during the afternoon with the two traders a considerable
distance down the hill to the north, crossing the Nokane and two other
dry spruits more than once. On the way I noticed some aloes of unusual
size, and some tiger-snails in the long grass in the valleys.
Early on the morning of the 18th we came to the south-east shore of
the smallest and most southerly of the three of the great salt-lakes
that I was able to visit. Away to the west this lake extended as far
as the eye could see, and it took me two hours to travel the length
of the eastern coast. It had an uniform depth of barely two feet,
and presented a light grey surface edged with stiff arrow-grass,
and surrounded by dense bush-forest, whilst round about it, in the
very thickest of the grass, were considerable numbers of miniature
salt-pans. It is scarcely once a year that it is full of water, for
although after violent rains torrents stream down from all directions,
very few of these make their way into the lake itself, but stagnate in
another and deeper bed close by; the overflow of this, however, escapes
into the lake. The name of this salt-pan is Tsitane, the same as that
of the most important of the rivers flowing from the heights upon our
left, which were the projecting spurs of the slope from the table-land
to the lake basin. The greater part of the lake-bottom consists
of rock, partly bare and partly covered with the deposit from the
rain-torrents. While I was taking the measurement of the eastern shore,
I came upon a herd of striped gnus, but without being able to shoot one
of them. In the brackish waters of the river, and in the pools near its
mouth, there were a good many spoonbills and ducks, and for the first
time for a long while I noticed some grunters.
After finishing my sketch-chart of the Tsitane lake next morning, I
went out and shot a great horned owl that I found in the trees on the
bank.
Every depression in the soil round the smaller pans contains salt.
However short a time the rainwater may stand in them, vegetation is
sure to be checked; the evaporation is rapid, and so great that the
ground is continually crusted with large patches of salt some five
inches above the soil, which break in when trodden on. In high winds
the salt and salt earth are swept along in great white clouds like
dust. The edge of the lake was covered with little chalcedonies and
milk-pebbles that had been washed down by the rain.
We quitted the shores of the Tsitane salt-pan on the 21st, but as I
had understood from the natives that there would be much difficulty in
getting water farther on, and I did not wish to impede the progress
of the ivory-traders, we parted company, but only to meet again after
a fortnight in the valley of the Panda ma Tenka, and yet again a year
later at Shoshong.
It was at the salt-pan that I saw my first baobab, the most southerly
specimen along my route, although Mauch had seen some further south
in the western Transvaal on the right bank of the Limpopo. The one I
noticed was twenty-five feet in height, its circumference measuring
nearly fifty-two feet.
On starting northwards we had first to cross the small outlying
salt-pans on the Tsitane, then the river itself, and finally to take
a course due north right over the basin. The trees of the dense
underwood were all more or less stunted, the bush-land alternating with
meadow-land overgrown with rich sweet grass and studded with flowers.
Near the pans and adjacent streams the soil was brackish, and the
vegetation for the most part of a prickly character. Springbocks and
duykerbocks, Zulu hartebeests, and striped gnus frequented the woods,
which in some parts revealed clearly the vestiges of lions.
All the next day our journey took us past a series of large depressions
in the soil, the middle of most of them being marked by small
salt-pans, of which I counted no less than forty-two in the course of
the day’s progress. We halted for the night near one of them known as
the little Shonni; we also crossed some fresh-water pools, at once to
be distinguished from salt-pans by the fringe of reeds with which they
were surrounded.
We now arrived at the eastern shore of a far larger and deeper lake
than the Tsitane, called by the natives Karri-karri; its shores were
circled by a number of baobabs, and its geological formation seemed
very interesting. Like the Tsitane in shape it was almost an isosceles
triangle with its apex far away out of sight in the west. On their
western side both these lakes are connected with the north of the Soa
salt-pan by means of the Zooga river.
Some Masarwas bearing traces of the red salt-crust on their ankles came
to us offering some baobab-fruit, and asking for maize and tobacco in
exchange. We had not much time to spend either in bartering commodities
or in exploring the shore of the lake, as the rain came on and
compelled us to hurry forwards, otherwise I do not doubt I should have
discovered a number of natural curiosities.
At the north-east end of the lake, at one of the principal creeks I
crossed the Mokhotsi river, which flows northwards, and carries off the
superfluous water of the shallow salt-pan.
Our way next led through a dense mapani-forest, after which we had to
cross a dried-up stream sixty feet wide, and from ten to sixteen feet
deep, having a decided fall towards the east, and on account of the
fine trees that adorned its banks called by the Masarwas the Shaneng,
or beautiful river. Parallel to this was a spruit, which the Dutch
hunters called Mapanifontein; it is fed by a number of springs, and as
it receives a portion of the water of the Shaneng whenever that stream
is overfull, its deeper parts are hardly ever dry at any period of
the year. I cannot resist the opinion that the Shaneng is an outlet
either of the Zooga river or of the Soa salt-lake, and that it empties
itself into the Matliutse or one of its affluents. In the course of the
afternoon I killed a great bird that was chasing lizards, known amongst
the colonists as the jackal-bird.
[Illustration:
_Vol. II._ THE SOA SALT LAKE. _Page 57._]
Towards the evening of the 23rd Anderson overtook us again, and
travelling on together we traversed a wood called the Khori, and
passing a deserted Masarwa village near the ford, we arrived in good
time next morning in sight of the Soa. This was the third of the
Great Salt Lakes. Near it we met some Dutch hunters, on a chase for
elephants and ostriches.
Thanks to the dry weather, we were able to cross several spruits that
ran in and out the various creeks, a proceeding that after much rain
would have been quite impracticable. Having chosen a good position
for our camping out, we resolved to stay there until the 27th, as we
ascertained that there was excellent drinking-water to be found by
digging holes in the bed of the Momotsetlani, a river that flowed
through the adjacent wood. According to my habit when halting for any
longer time than usual, I made several excursions, in the course of
which I shot five ducks, two guinea-fowl, that were in unusually large
numbers, and a brown stork, the first example of the kind I had seen.
The Soa is the largest salt-pan in the Great Lake basin, extending
westward beyond Lake N’gami, and connected with the Limpopo system by
the Shaneng; like the Karri-Karri and Tsitane, it is quite shallow,
being only four feet deep; it is grey in colour, and is rarely
completely full, indeed a great part of it is quite dry. In order to
ascertain the exact relations between the basin and Lake N’gami and
the Zooga, it would be necessary to take a series of observations
for an entire year; during the rainy season, however, travelling is
extremely difficult and the climate is very unhealthy, so that it is
easy to account for the task not having been accomplished hitherto.
The general uniformity of level of the great central South African
basin causes the Zooga at some times to flow east and at others to flow
west. When the shallow bed of Lake N’gami is filled by its northern
and western feeders it sheds its overflow eastwards down the Zooga to
the salt-pans, whence it is carried off by the Shaneng, their natural
outlet; on the other hand, if the N’gami should be low, it receives
itself the overflow of the Zooga, which in its deep bed, overgrown
as it is with weeds, is able for a long period to retain the water
received from its many affluents; nor is it impossible that it is
likewise occasionally fed by waters running over from the western side
of the salt-pans.
It took our team more than three hours after our next start to cross
the numerous creeks and smaller pans on the shore of the lake: we came
to the end of them, however, in the course of the forenoon, and entered
upon a plain stretching northwards as far as the eye could reach, and
bounded on the east by a mapani-wood. Herds of game were frequent,
but not large. We noticed a good many clumps of reeds, and were not
disappointed in the expectation of finding fresh-water in proximity to
them, inducing us to rest awhile in the place.
I was very busy arranging some of the curiosities that I had collected
on my recent rambles, when I was startled by a loud cry of distress.
On looking out of the waggon I saw Meriko, my Bamangwato servant,
running with all his might through the long grass, and shrieking, in
the Sechuana dialect, “They are killing me! they are killing me!” He
cleared the bushes like an antelope; in his hurry he had lost both
his grass hat and his caama mantle, and had scarcely breath to reach
the waggon. Pointing to a number of natives at no great distance from
him, with their spears brandished in the air, he gasped out, “Zulus!
Matabele! they want to kill me!”
For my part I could not comprehend how it happened that these Matabele
should be on Khame’s territory. I began to wonder whether it was
possible that war had broken out between the tribes, and I confess
that I was not without apprehension that we were going to be attacked.
The savages advanced yelling and screeching, and looked like wolves
in human form. Unwilling to risk the mischief that might ensue if I
fired upon them, I resolved to remain steadily where I was until I had
ascertained their real intentions. Meriko’s opinion did not in the
least coincide with mine; he could not bring himself to await their
approach, but bounding over the pole of the waggon, he scampered off
into the bush beyond, but without further outcry, evidently anxious
to conceal himself in the long grass. I called out to him that he had
more to fear from the lions in the grass than from the Zulus, and that
he had better stay in the waggon; so terrified, however, was he at the
prospect of falling into the hands of the Matabele, that he turned a
deaf ear to my words, and rushed out of sight.
The savage band flocked round the waggon, still flourishing their
kiris. Excepting the two ringleaders they proved to be not true Zulus,
but belonging to various plundered tribes, having been stolen away as
boys by Moselikatze, and brought up as Zulu warriors. They had small
leather aprons with fringes, or occasionally a gourd-shell or piece
of basket-work on their bodies, otherwise they were quite naked;
only some of them wore balloon-shaped head-dresses made of ostrich
feathers or other plumage. Their expression was exceedingly wild. The
fierce rolling eye was a witness that they belonged to a warlike race,
expecting that their commands should be obeyed; and probably there was
not one amongst them who would have hesitated to perpetrate a murder if
he considered that anything was to be gained by it.
One of the leaders swung himself on to the pole of the waggon, and
speaking in broken Dutch gave me to understand that they were “Lo
Bengulas,” and that it was their wont to slaughter every captive they
made, except he were bought off by a ransom; they were now ready to put
their rule into force upon my servants; and as for my dog they should
shoot him then and there, unless I paid them down at once a handsome
sum to save him.
I put as bold a face as I could upon the matter. I told them that I was
not going to be frightened into making them any payment whatever, but
that if they would promise to go quietly away from the waggon, I would
make them a present all round. I hoped by this device to anticipate
their notorious thievish propensities; but although Pit and Theunissen
were on the watch, they could not prevent one of the fellows stealing a
knife that was lying close to my side, but I caught sight of him just
in time, and insisted upon his giving it up again.
After a brief consultation, the two captains drew their followers
apart, and made them acquainted with my determination; they all grinned
cunningly, and hailed the proposal with shouts of satisfaction. Having
had the whole body collected right in front of the waggon, where I
could keep my eye upon them, I called the leaders forward and handed
to each of them a bowl of gunpowder and about two pounds of lead.
One of them first pointed to my pocket-handkerchief, and then ran his
finger round his own loins. “Lapiana!” he said, indicating the purpose
to which it could be applied. Accordingly I brought out a few yards
of calico, and tore it into strips, which were immediately used for
girdles, except that a few of the men twisted the stuff round their
heads. They requested me to give the captains an extra piece or two;
to this I willingly consented, and they all expressed themselves
perfectly satisfied. Upon this I turned my back upon the clamorous
troop, and retreated calmly to my own people. Soon afterwards they all
began slowly to depart, waving their presents over their heads. We were
greatly relieved. The hour that had passed since Meriko had come and
announced their approach had unquestionably been an anxious time. A few
of them had bartered salt with Theunissen for tobacco.
When Meriko could be induced to quit his hiding-place, he informed us
that we had now almost reached the bank of the principal feeder of the
Soa, called the Nata, where salt may be most readily procured, and
whither the Matabele are sent by their rulers every year to collect
it. This was the ostensible employment of the gang that had just taken
their departure. The Bamangwato king was quite aware of the marauding
habits of these parties, but did nothing to control them, although
they perpetually disarm any Bamangwatos they may meet, and delight in
breaking the legs of the Masarwas.[2]
[Illustration: HUNTING THE ZULU HARTEBEEST.]
To the great satisfaction of poor Meriko we decided to push on
immediately to the Nata river. As we proceeded, the game became more
and more plentiful. The herds of springbocks were much larger than I
should have expected to see so far north, and we noticed a surprising
number of gnus, hartebeests, zebras, and ostriches. Although Meriko had
in some measure recovered his nervousness, and walked on contentedly
with Niger at his side, he kept from time to time jumping up from
the ground to the waggon, to look all round and satisfy himself that
no Matabele gang was in sight. While mounted up for this purpose he
cried out that he could see a herd of “sesephi” (Zulu hartebeests). He
described them as about 600 yards to our right. I could not see them
myself, but both Pit and Theunissen affirmed that it was a good-sized
herd. We all agreed that it would be best to allow the waggon to
advance some 300 yards further, and I could then alight, and with my
gun all ready for a shot, make my way to a hardekool-tree about 200
yards from the road, and from thence take my aim. Nothing could be
simpler than the plan, and I was soon making my way through the long
grass by myself on foot.
I had not reached the hardekool-tree before I heard a low whistle
from Theunissen which I quite understood was to inform me that the
hartebeests had been disturbed by the waggon, and were commencing a
flight. Hurrying on, I made my way to the tree, when the two foremost
of the herd came in sight at full speed. I aimed at the first, and
fired. The whole of our people raised a shout, and leaving the oxen to
take their chance started off in pursuit, followed by the dogs. My own
impression was that I had seen the entire herd scamper off. I returned
to the waggon to satisfy myself that the bullocks were grazing quietly,
and then hastened after my friends. My surprise was considerable when
I discovered that my shot had been successful, and that a magnificent
sesephi was lying dead upon the ground.
All the bullocks were so tired that I had quite made up my mind to
give them a good rest as soon as we reached the Nataspruit, but there
was the preliminary difficulty to be overcome of finding a proper
drinking-place, nearly all the pools in the bed being salt. We had,
however, been assured two days before by a Masarwa that there were
several fresh-water ponds in the district, and accordingly Theunissen
and I set out on an expedition of discovery. The river-bed varied
in breadth from 100 to 150 feet; it was about twenty feet deep, and
manifestly after rain was quite full up to the grass upon its edge.
We wandered about for some time searching in vain, but at length
Theunissen announced that he had come upon a pool of fresh water, a
discovery that we considered especially fortunate, as all the pools
beyond appeared again to be salt.
The game-tracks were absolutely countless. For the most part they
seemed to belong to the same species that we had noticed on the
banks of the Soa, but fresh lion-tracks were quite conspicuous among
them. Pit suggested what looked like a suitable place for encamping;
Theunissen and myself agreed, but Meriko protested that it was too near
the quarters of the Matabele. His objection, however, was not allowed
to prevail, and his nervousness was much moderated when he found he was
to be entrusted with a breech-loader to keep guard over the bullocks.
An extra strong fence was made, considerably higher than usual, and
four great fires were lighted, which would keep burning till nearly two
o’clock in the morning.
Poor Niger was in a state of great excitement all night. Lions were
prowling around us, and the hyænas and jackals kept up such a noise
that sound sleep was out of the question, and in my dreams I saw
nothing but stuffed lion-skins dancing before my eyes. Just before
morning the concert seemed to rise to its full pitch; two jackals
yelped hideously in two different keys, the hyænas howled angrily with
all their might, while the lion with its deep and sonorous growl might
be taken as chorægus to the whole performance.
In the rambles that Pit and I took, the following morning, the
lion-traces were so many and so recent that we felt it prudent to
keep a very sharp look-out. We crossed the river-bed several times,
and observed that the tracks were particularly numerous in the high
grounds that commanded a view of the place where the various antelopes,
attracted by the salt, would be likely to descend. On our way we passed
a tree, the bark of which was torn in a way which showed that it had
been used by lions for sharpening their claws; the boughs of the tree
were wide-spreading, branching out like a candelabrum, and forming
what struck me as a convenient perch. Here I resolved to keep a long
watch of some ten or twelve hours. I was determined if I could to see
the lions for myself. Accordingly, just before sundown, I took Niger,
and accompanied by Pit I returned to the tree, and having made myself
comfortable in my concealment, I sent Pit back to the waggon in time
for him to arrive while it was still tolerably light.
[Illustration: IN THE TREE.]
The sensation of being alone in such a spot was sufficiently strange.
I soon began to look about me, and noticed that the trees around were
considerably higher than that in which I was perched; the ground was in
some places elevated, but thinly grassed, so that the light sand could
be distinguished which covers the flaky strata of the salt lakes.
Just below me was a bare circular patch, which bore no footprints at
all except our own and those of the lions that had passed by; on my
left was a rain-channel some six feet deep and twenty feet wide, much
overgrown, and opening into the Nataspruit about twenty yards away. The
nights were now extremely cold, and appeared especially so in contrast
to the high temperature of the day, and I took the precaution of tying
myself to one of the strongest boughs, in case I should fall asleep;
to tumble off might bring me into closer contact with the monarchs of
the forest than might be agreeable; but having made myself secure, I
soon settled down in the middle of the triple-forked recess that I had
chosen for my ambush.
The sun, meanwhile, had all but set; only a few golden streaks on the
highest boughs remained, and these gradually faded away. My insight
that night into scenes of animal life proved even far more diversified
than I could venture to anticipate.
Amongst the first of the sounds to arrest my attention was the sonorous
“quag-ga, quag-ga” of the male zebras; they were on the grass-plains,
keeping watch over their herds; with this was soon mingled the
melancholy howl of the harnessed jackal, awakening the frightful yell
of its brother, the grey jackal; the beasts, I could not doubt, were
all prowling round the enclosure of our camp. For some hours the
various noises seemed to be jumbled together, but towards midnight
they became more and more distinct, so that I could identify them
separately, and fancied that I could count the beasts that made them.
After a while a peculiar scraping commenced, caused by rhyzænas hunting
in the sand for worms and larvæ; it went on all night except during
the brief intervals when the busy little creatures were temporarily
disturbed by some movement near them.
The gazelles and antelopes came down quite early to lick at the salt
mud in the Nata-bed; they evidently were accustomed to get back to
their haunts in the open lands before the beasts of prey quitted their
lairs in the wood. Some of the little steinbocks (those most graceful
of South African gazelles) came down so cautiously along the track that
it was only through accidentally looking down that I was aware of their
being near me. I think there were three or four of them. They were
followed by some other gazelle, of which the movements were so light
and rapid that I failed to catch a glimpse of it. After a considerable
time a single antelope passed beneath me, of another species larger
than the others, making a succession of short leaps, then pausing and
bounding on again, but I could not recognize what kind it really was.
The slow, steady tramp of a large herd on the other side of the bank
proceeding towards the salt pools, and in the direction of the one
fresh-water pool, could not be mistaken; moreover, the crashing of
their horns against the wood in the thickets left no doubt of the
approach of a number of koodoos. While I was listening to their
movements I heard another tread on the game-path beside the river;
straining my eyes in that direction I saw a dark form stealthily making
its way towards the descent: it was about the size of a young calf, and
I could have little doubt that it was a brown hyæna; it sniffed the air
at every step, and after stopping a few seconds just beyond the channel
started off at a brisk trot.
As the hours of the night waned away I was beginning to think that I
should hear or see nothing of the monarch of the forest. I had not,
however, to wait much longer before the unmistakable roar, apparently
about half a mile away, caught my ear. I could only hope that the beast
was on its way once more to sharpen its claws upon the accustomed tree.
I had now no heed to give to any other sound; neither the barking of
our own dogs beside the waggon, nor the yelling of the jackals around
our encampment could distract my attention, and I listened eagerly for
at least half an hour before the roaring was repeated; it was now very
much nearer; I listened on, and it must have been nearly twenty minutes
more when I distinguished its footsteps almost within gunshot. The lion
was not in the ordinary track, as I had expected, but right in the
long grass in the rain-channel. Its strides were generally rapid, but
it paused frequently. I could only hear its movements; it was too dark
for me to see. I was sure that it could not be more than about fifteen
yards from me, and could hardly restrain myself from firing. I feared,
however, that a random shot would only be fired in vain, and with no
other effect than that of driving the lion away. Accordingly I waited
on. It came still nearer and crouched down somewhere for about another
quarter of an hour without stirring an inch. At last I became convinced
that it had caught sight of me; I saw the bushes shake, and the great
brute looked out as if uncertain whether to make a spring towards me,
or to effect its escape. It was a terrible mistake on my part not
to fire then and there, but my moment of hesitation was fatal to my
design; the lion made a sudden bound, and in an instant had disappeared
for good. It was no use to me that Niger’s frantic barking made me
aware what direction it had taken. My chance was gone. I was much
mortified; but there was no help for it. With the cold night air and my
cramped position I was stiff all over, and much relieved when daylight
dawned, and Pit appeared with Niger to accompany me back to the warmth
and shelter of the waggon.