Chapter Seven.
The Dutchman’s stratagem—Wild-boar hunt—A vicious pigling—Hartebeest-chase—Hide and seek—The organ of “locality”—Fatal curiosity—An escapade—A false alarm—Baboons at home—A tame baboon—The baboon and the crow—Literary and scientific tastes—A leopard shot—Unpleasant journey—Conflicting opinions.
On the third day we came across a troop of hartebeest, which commenced galloping round us, taking care to keep at a long distance from us. We tried one or two rides at them, but failed in getting near enough for a shot. They continued circling round us in a most tantalising way for a long time, while we were taking shots at from fire to six hundred yards’ distance. Suddenly they started right away from us, and, by the straight line which they kept, did not seem disposed to return. One of the Dutchmen now told me to look out for a shot, and at the same time he fired both barrels at a high elevation, so that he sent the bullets over the heads of the troop of hartebeest, which, striking the ground far on ahead of them, sent up a cloud of dust. The result was at once seen; the troop, as they heard the whistle of the lead, and saw the dust in front, darted here and there, and then, wheeling round, came directly back to us. We fired a volley at them; but, as they were at least three hundred yards from us, and were going at full speed, one only remained on the ground; another, however, was seen in difficulties, and surrendered his stakes after a hard run of some six miles. Towards evening, we had a brilliant affair with an old wild-boar (the vleck vark), his wife, and children.
We were told by the people at the waggons that the brutes had passed some time before we returned to lunch, and, having a good supply of eland-beef, the Boers thought that some bacon would be very palatable. We therefore took all the curs that were with the waggons, and went out in search of the party. We got the spoor immediately, and, partly by that and partly by the aid of the dogs, we drew up to some rocky hills, that presented anything but a favourable ground for galloping. The boar was seen a long way on ahead, leading his sow and sucklings at a trot, which was increased to a rapid gallop as our approach became known to him. The pace at which the whole party went along the rocky ground was more than we could manage to beat, until a long, flat, grassy plain again became the scene of contest. As we neared, we sent the curs in advance, who, without difficulty, overhauled the chase. The movements of the boar family were most absurd; with tails sticking straight up, they galloped along, putting their snouts up in the air occasionally to have a look over their backs at their pursuers; this gave to their whole action a most absurd appearance. These creatures are obliged to do thus, because their eyes are placed so far forward, and their necks are so stiff, that they cannot see to the right or left by turning the head. On the outside of the eye a large lump of flesh protrudes, which also limits the lateral vision considerably.
As the dogs came up to the pigs, they laid hold of one of those invitingly-carried tails, and soon reduced it to a stump. The wild-boar himself was armed with a formidable pair of semicircular tusks in the upper jaw, while the lower jaw was furnished with those sharp, straight, short tusks that soon rip up a dog, as they did most effectually on the present occasion a large cur which ventured to pin the pig himself. When we were close to the herd, the boar slackened his speed, and had a wicked expression about the eye that indicated a wish for mischief. Little time was given to him for consideration, as a well-directed bullet laid him low. A young pig which I succeeded in catching was a regular little varmint; he squeaked and struggled furiously, and tried to bite every hand that was placed near him. He was not much bigger than a sucking-pig. So, after tying his legs together, I slipped him into a haversack, and delivered him in safety to one of my Kaffirs, who placed him in a waggon. On the following day, he bit a Hottentot’s finger, and was in consequence killed by the man. I did not know how or where the animal was for two days, as the murder was concealed from me. I regretted the loss of this savage little creature, as I had intended to send him to England.
We passed eight days in the Mooi river veldt. The weather was fine, except on the last day, when the rain poured in torrents. I sought shelter under the waggon-tilt, but was forced to lie on a mattress stuffed with eland’s meat. One must not grumble in this country at having to submit to even greater disagreeables.
The air was delightfully pure and bracing on these plains, and I quite regretted that I had not a shooting-box near them, so as to be able to pass, months at a time in their vicinity.
The Boers came into my tent each night, and by their conversation and anecdotes gave me a great fund of useful information on the biped and quadruped life of Africa, and on the craft that was necessary in carrying on a successful campaign against either.
Whilst on a visit to an English settler, who resided about forty miles from Pietermaritzburg, I had some good sport with hartebeest.
Having made inquiries from the few Kaffirs who lived in this neighbourhood, I found that a troop of hartebeest were usually found feeding on some table-land about twenty miles from the house at which I was staying. I therefore started alone one beautiful bright morning at daybreak to have a quiet gallop after these animals. Unfortunately, my telescope had been forgotten, and I could not scan the country with such accuracy as to distinguish the antelope from the stone on the flat distant hills. After riding an hour or two, I reached the country that had been indicated to me as the hartebeest kop; I off-saddled for half an hour to have my horse as fresh as possible, in case of a run, and then continued my ride. On rising a little stony ridge, I suddenly came on a troop of nearly forty hartebeest: they were grazing, but immediately took the alarm. As usual, they did not at once make straight away, but took two or three circling gallops round me; they kept at such a safe distance that I did not try a shot for some time; at length, seeing that they were going away, I rode at a point for which they were making. I had to keep my horse at full gallop to hold my position with them, although they seemed to be merely cantering. There was a little opening between two hills, and for this the hartebeest appeared to be steering; making a grand push, I passed a little ahead of them, and, jumping off, got a double shot at the string as they dashed past. I saw that the result was a hind-leg of a fine bull-hartebeest broken. He went gallantly away on three legs, but I certainly did not doubt but that I should be more than a match for him with the horse’s four. I lost a little ground by dismounting, and before I had loaded again, the herd had passed out of sight over some rising ground. Upon again viewing the hartebeest, I was alarmed at the start they had obtained; they were mere specks in the distance. Feeling great confidence in the gameness of my well-conditioned, hardy little nag, I let him go over the green springy turf, and soon found that the distance between us and the hartebeest was diminishing. Seeing my horse’s ears suddenly elevated, I looked round on each side, and saw my three-legged hartebeest galloping away behind, and nearly close to me; he had been lying down amongst some stones, and had allowed me to pass without moving. I turned after him, my horse seeming as anxious in the chase as a hound. When an animal is badly wounded, he usually separates himself from the remainder of the herd, as though they no longer had any sympathy with him, and he then seeks in solitude to brood over his sufferings, unwatched by the eyes of his fellows. I intended to save my ammunition until I got a fair chance of a dead shot, but after a stern-chase of more than four miles, I found that the loss of one leg did not much affect the speed of my friend; edging off a little, I made a push forward, and pulled up for a broadside-shot at little more than one hundred yards distant. As I did so, the hartebeest also stopped and looked at me, and I dropped him with the first shot behind the shoulder. The next proceeding was to get as much of the flesh cut up and put on my horse as he could manage to carry. I was anxious for the head and skin; but from want of skill as a butcher, I mauled the skin so terribly that I found it would be useless. Taking away the head and choice parts of the flesh, I looked round for my bearings, and slowly returned homewards.
To the inexperienced in this sort of travelling the road would not have been easy. The hills bear a wonderful resemblance to one another, and during the excitement of a gallop of this description, there is little time to take observations as to the course one is pursuing; a sort of instinct seems to supply the place of reason; it would be difficult to tell any one why or how we know that such a direction is the right one—we feel that it is so, but can give no reason why. I am confident that this is the feeling that animals have when they find their way for miles to their homes by roads on which they have never before travelled. There is a well-authenticated instance of a dog having been taken from the south of England to Scotland by sea, and returning alone by land.
On another day I went out hartebeest-hunting, and soon found a troop of these creatures quietly feeding on a level plain that extended some miles around. They were some distance from me, and my horse, not having had any good forage for four days, had lost his condition, and was not fit for a gallop after these fleet animals. There was not a stone or ant-hill near enough to get a shot from, and the grass being very short, stalking was out of the question. I left my horse, and slid along to within six hundred yards of the herd without attracting their attention, and lay down in a small patch of long grass to watch proceedings. A knowing old bull-hartebeest, however, was on the look-out, and kept moving from side to side with a careful and suspicious air. I saw that I could get no nearer, and yet did not like to try my shot from such a distance. I had often heard of the curiosity of the antelopes, and that they might be decoyed by this weakness of character. So lying down well out of sight, I took a red silk pocket-handkerchief, and, tying it to my gun, waved it slowly above the grass. The hartebeest saw it immediately, and all left off feeding; they moved about very suspiciously, keeping a good lookout at the strange object. I kept waving the flag most industriously, and soon saw that they were coming up towards it; but when about two hundred yards distant, they again stopped, and eyed my signal. Hoping that they would come nearer, I did not fire, and saw them walk knowingly round to leeward to try and get my wind. This would have ruined all, so, lowering the flag, I fired at the ancient bull and dropped him. It was the cleanest dead shot I ever saw. A Dutchman, in describing a similar event, said that “the foot that was in the air never came to the ground while there was life.” I gave the contents of the second barrel to another bull; but he went away gallantly after receiving the ball in his ribs. I took enormous pains to skin and preserve the head from injury, and then went down for my nag, who had remained feeding quietly. He was a good shooting-horse, and generally behaved well; but when he saw me coming, he gave an impudent sort of whisk of his tail and walked quietly away, holding his head sufficiently on one side to keep the reins from catching the feet. I called to him and stood still, he stopped and fed; I walked slowly towards him, he walked slowly away, keeping his eye on me with a malicious twinkle; I ran towards him, he trotted off; and thus passed half an hour. I found it was no use trying to catch him, for he was determined on mischief, and there was no help for it. I returned to the hartebeest and got his head and tail and my gun; the skin I left, as it was more than I could carry in addition. I then returned to my horse, who had made use of his time and had been feeding away at the short green grass. As I came towards him, he moved on as before: fortunately he seemed to know the road that he had come, and returned on his spoor. Now and then he would canter on half a mile or so, stop and feed till I came near, when he would start off again. It was a great trial for my temper, as my load was considerable and the journey before me very long; the burning sun was directly over my head, and its heat consequently intense. I took a pull or two at my flask, and trudged on for upwards of four hours before I came in sight of my friend’s house, this tantalising rascal in front of me the whole time. I then went to the stream near, and finding a still, quiet pool, cooled myself with a dip in its clear water.
On the following day I got a long halter with a bowling-knot at the end, and cantered this same horse over my journey of yesterday, as I thought it possible that I might find the skin of the hartebeest fit to take away. As I came near, however, I gave up this hope, for I saw a vulture sailing over my head in the same direction in which I was going; I looked up, and saw another and another. When I came near the carcase, I saw a regular inquest sitting there, a dozen vultures at least, most of them gorged to repletion, while others were fighting for bits of the skin. Seeing that there was nothing left for my share, I withdrew.
During the shooting trip with the Boers, I awoke before daybreak, and as I felt very cold and not inclined to sleep, I got up, and taking my gun, walked to a little ravine, out of which a clear murmuring stream flashed in the moonlight and ran close past our outspan. A little distance up this kloof the fog was dense and thick, the blue and pink streaks of the morning light were beginning to illumine the peaks of the Draakensberg, but all immediately around us still acknowledged the supremacy of the pale moonlight. I wanted to see the sun rise in this lonely region, and watch the changing effects which its arrival would produce on the mountains and plains around.
Suddenly I heard a hoarse cough, and, on turning, saw indistinctly in the fog a queer little old man standing near and looking at me. I instinctively cocked my gun, as the idea of Bushmen and poisoned arrows flashed across my mind. The old man instantly dropped on his hands, giving another hoarse cough, that evidently told a tale of consumptive lungs; he snatched up something beside him, which seemed to leap on his shoulders, and then he scampered off up the ravine on all fours. Before half this performance was completed, I had discovered my mistake, the little old man turned into an ursine baboon, with an infant ditto, who had come down the kloof to drink. The “old man’s” cough was answered by a dozen others, at present hidden in the fogs; soon, however,
“Uprose the sun, the mists were curl’d
Back from the solitary world
Which lay around;”
and I obtained a view of the range of mountains gilded by the morning sun.
A large party of the old gentleman’s family were sitting up the ravine, and were evidently holding a debate as to the cause of my intrusion. I watched them through my glass, and was much amused at their grotesque and almost human movements. Some of the old ladies had their olive-branches in their laps, and appeared to be “doing their hair,” while a patriarchal-looking old fellow paced backwards and forwards with a fussy sort of look: he was evidently on sentry, and seemed to think himself of no small importance. This estimate of his dignity did not appear to be universally acknowledged, as two or three young baboons sat close behind him watching his proceedings; sometimes with the most grotesque movements and expressions they would stand directly in his path, and hobble away only at the last moment. One daring youngster followed close on the heels of the patriarch, during the whole length of his beat, and gave a sharp tug at his tail as he was about to turn. The old fellow seemed to treat it with the greatest indifference, scarcely turning round at the insult. Master Impudence was about repeating the performance, when the pater, showing that he was not such a fool as he looked, suddenly sprung round, and catching the young one before he could escape, gave him two or three such cuffs, that I could hear the screams that resulted therefrom. The venerable gentleman then chucked the delinquent over his shoulder, and continued his promenade with the greatest coolness: this old baboon evidently was acquainted with the practical details of Solomon’s proverb. A crowd gathered round the naughty child, who, childlike, seeing commiseration, shrieked all the louder. I even fancied I could see the angry glances of the mamma, as she took her dear little pet in her arms and removed it from a repetition of such brutal treatment.
The habits of these animals are almost human, and their interior and domestic arrangements much to be admired. My friend M—, before mentioned in connection with my first acquaintance with elephants; possessed a most interesting young baboon, whose fun and tricks frequently afforded me amusement. The baboon used to be allowed to run loose, and accompany us in our quiet walks, and would follow like a dog. It was difficult to restrain his mercurial temperament; at one moment he would jump on one of our backs, holding on by our coats, and then bolt away, as though he never meant to return. His great delight, however, seemed to lie in bullying and frightening the Kaffir women. Did he, with his eagle glance, discover one of these, he would rush at her, with fierce expression and threatening barks. Away she would run, dropping her basket or hoe. He would soon catch her, and, holding on to a leg, would move his eyebrows about, and stare at her, as though he were the veriest vampire on earth. Sometimes this scene would be viewed from the kraal near, and a mangy, spectre-looking Kaffir cur would be hied on to the rescue. Now the tables were turned, and Jacko would have to scuttle away for his life to some tree, amongst the branches of which he would spring with wonderful agility, until with a rapid twinkle of the eye he discovered that he was high enough to be safe from the gnashing teeth of the infuriated dog below. Instantly becoming calm, he gazed upwards and around, with a quiet and contemplative air, as though he had sought this elevated position for the sole purpose of meditating on the weakness of baboon and animal nature generally, but more particularly on the foibles of excited Kaffir curs.
I was much amused in watching this creature’s, revenge on a crow that had frequently robbed him of tit-bits which by accident had gone beyond the reach of his chain. He watched this bird flying round him, settling, and walking nearer, and again flying; so he left his meal, and laid himself down, as though the wished-for food was entirely beneath his notice. The crow settled near, and carefully watched the proceedings. First he inspected the chopped potatoes and meat, and then the sleepy baboon. Again the tempting morsels attracted his hungry appetite, and after one or two retreats, he at last came fairly up to the tin dish,—not a move from the baboon. Crow gobbled down a bit, and looked suspiciously round,—still all was safe. Again a mouthful was bolted; then, as if satisfied that it had entirely mistaken the character of the hairy little creature about whom he had been suspicious, but who was really at heart a very generous fellow, the bird dived its beak well amongst the good things. An attentive observer might now see the hair on the back of the baboon rising up in a very curious way, while his body seemed to be slightly writhing. Suddenly, with one spring, he was upon the bird, who had scarcely time to open its wings. With a chorus of triumphant barks he held the crow by the neck, while he swung it about at arm’s length, so that any expostulating “caw” that might have been uttered was strangled before it could be circulated, like a disloyal article in a continental newspaper. No one could say of this bird that it carried out the corvine principle, and—
”—died as slow,
As the morning mists down the hill that go.”
For the whole business was over in half a minute, after which several feathers were pulled out, and the carrion then flung away, as a scare and warning to all other hungry crows. The baboon then finished his dinner with a very satisfied air.
His literary taste was the cause of his being a chained prisoner, as, rambling one day into a hut near, he drank a bottle of ink, ate a box of wafers, and was found by the owner studying the watch-making practised by “Dent, London.” When we consider that this baboon was not two years old at the time, and several young gentlemen of my acquaintance are ten and eleven, it may fairly be expected that when he arrives at their years, he may be able to rival them in many of their practices.
Upon the return march from Bushman’s River, I was nearly having to pass the night in the open country, without dinner, supper, or blankets. Finding the slow pace of the waggons very disagreeable, and the road dull and uninteresting, I proposed to a Lieutenant G—, of the party, to join me in a little détour in the surrounding country. We left the road, and riding at right angles to the line of its direction, continued our journey in a supposed parallel direction to the road, after a dive into the plain of about three miles. Now it so happened that when we left, the road pointed nearly south, but shortly after it turned to the east; thus, when we fancied that we were moving in a parallel direction, we were in fact going directly away from it. We rode on quietly, taking a bread-and-cheese luncheon from our pockets, and seeing only a few ourebis, that were, however, very wild, until our attention was drawn to a moving object by the side of a grassy watercourse. Watching this object carefully, we soon saw it was a leopard, and rode towards it quietly, so as not to cause an alarm, if possible, until we were near it. When within about sixty yards, the animal saw us, and crouched down in the grass. Having my favourite gun, the left barrel of which threw a bullet with the precision of a rifle, I fired at the leopard as I saw it crouching; it scarcely moved, and the bullet threw up no dust, convincing me by this one circumstance that I had hit the animal.
We rode up to where it lay, and I was about dismounting and walking up to the spot, when, just as my foot was out of the stirrup, the leopard jumped up, gave a snarl, and bounded off, apparently safe and sound. Both our horses reared and turned round, and, before I could arrange matters, and bring my second barrel to bear, the leopard looked beautifully small at the distance of three hundred yards. I pitched, a bullet, however, just over him, with, of course, no result.
As the sun was nearly, setting, we now changed our direction at right angles to the old one, thinking by this that we were steering directly for the road; we were, however, in reality, only now going parallel to it, and at nearly twenty miles’ distance. We rode on and on, our horses beginning to show signs of fatigue, we having been in the saddle about six hours, with only half an hour’s rest. They had, however, a longer journey before them than we imagined. We soon were overtaken by the darkness, and had to fix on particular stars near the horizon as guides; these sometimes were lost sight of as we went down a kloof. The riding was rather rough, as big pointed stones two or three feet high were pleasantly mixed up with the long grass, about five feet in its growth. It was too dark to see these and avoid them, and more than once horses and riders came floundering down in one heap. Once or twice we were in doubt whether we should camp for the night, or still try to reach the road. We had a consultation about our position, and where we ought to ride to reach the road. After some discussion, we discovered the real cause of our failure, and therefore rode more to the right than we had before done. At length, we crossed a road, and my companion at once said we were all right, and proposed cantering on. I was not quite so certain about being right, but was almost overruled; so I dismounted, and, kneeling down on the ground, examined for spoor. Knowing that a gun and waggon horsed, with about half a dozen other waggons with each a span of oxen, could not pass without leaving sign, I crawled along for some distance, but could not trace more than two fresh waggon-wheels. I therefore determined that this was the wrong road, and that we must ride yet farther to hit the one that our people had followed. I was very nearly giving in, as G— argued very powerfully; but he at last consented to go on a mile or two, and if we did not come to any other road, to return to the present one. We rode about four miles, when another beaten track, which they here compliment with the title of a road, was crossed; on dismounting, I found that waggons, oxen, horses, and nailed boots, had all passed on that day. We followed this road, and in about two hours reached the Mooi river, on the opposite side of which our camp for the night had been formed. It was about 1½ a.m. when we reached the waggons, hungry and tired, our horses, however, being wonderfully fresh, although we had been nearly fourteen hours in the saddle. The road that we first crossed would have taken us twenty-five miles before we could have seen a house, and we should have reached the river fifteen miles from our camp.