Chapter Twenty.
The Karl-Kop.
So was it; the water, once more gone underground, sank into the sand, just as above. Even worse than above, as regarded navigation, for an exploring party sent forward, returned to report the channel dry to a distance of at least ten miles, twice as far as before.
This made still more intelligible the great congregation of crocodiles. They were the denizens of nigh twenty miles of the stream’s length, driven, by a long-continued drought, into such close companionship. Crowded together, as frogs in a pond, they had devoured every fish, every living thing dammed up along with them in the sheet of stagnant water, and were famishing. Hence their hostility and fearlessness of man, due as much to hunger, as to any natural ferocity.
But the Vee-Boers thought no more about them now. Enough was there to occupy their minds in this second obstruction that had arisen, and which vexed them more than the first, their leader far more—to him a very chagrin—as he reflected on his want of forethought. He should not have been satisfied with such a short, careless reconnaissance, but examined the omaramba to the farthest end, wherever that might be. Resolved to act with more prudence in this second exploration, he had taken charge of it himself, nor turned back, till assured of the stream’s re-issue and onward flow without any other interruption.
This assurance had been obtained by discovering that the sandy tract they were traversing was but a belt of some ten or twelve leagues in breadth, beyond which the nature of the country was different, the surface-soil being firm and clayey. Rivers running over a bed of clay do not go underground, and there was no fear of a third obstruction, at least of that special kind. These facts were not all ascertained in a few hours, nor yet in a single day. Two, and part of a third, were spent in the exploration.
While it was in progress, those left behind had remained inactive, as there was nothing for them to do. Should there be no more stream, there could be no further navigation, and again taking the rafts to pieces would be so much labour lost. In this uncertainty, even their lading was left undisturbed; only such chattels carried on shore as were needed for a camp of temporary occupation. Nor did any of the people, white or coloured, elect to sleep on land, having by this time discovered the be a better place. Upon it they were less exposed to the torture of mosquitoes, to avoid which, the rafts were each night drawn out to some distance from the beach, and there brought to anchor. So shoal was it all round, they had no difficulty in communicating with the shore whenever desirable.
It was an interval of great anxiety, full of doubts and apprehensions. Not all dulness, however, as the monotony of their life was now and then varied by episodes of a curious kind—scenes and incidents of nature, such as may be witnessed only in her wild, untrodden domain. One which occurred on the evening after their arrival was of this character—indeed, so strange as to test the reader’s credulity. Yet is it here chronicled as a fact, on the authority of trustworthy witnesses, the adventurers themselves.
It had got to be near sunset; the people all on shore, and seated at the nacht-maal, when a swishing and crackling among the trees close by, admonished them of some large quadruped making its way towards the water. It might be buffalo, rhinoceros, or hippopotamus; but, judging from the volume of sound, more likely an elephant. And an elephant it was, as was soon seen; one of the largest size, and a Karl-kop, in other words, a tuskless bull. Alone was he, which proclaimed him an outcast from elephantine society—an Ishmaelite in his own land.
All this indicated danger, as they watching him well knew. For the solitary male elephant is vicious beyond conception, being absolutely insane, or musty as it is termed in India.
He was approaching the water, presumably to quench his thirst, and in a few more strides stood upon its edge, not fifty yards from the spot where the people were sitting, luckily behind some bushes that screened them from his sight. They were not all seated now, however, as several of the young Boers had sprung upon their feet, and were hastening to get hold of their guns. Some already had them in hand, but delayed opening fire, a word from baas Rynwald restraining them. A caution it was in view of the risk to be run. For, should they fail to kill the bull at once, and only wound and infuriate him, then would they all be at his mercy. Besides, he was only a Karl-kop, an aged one, and not worth powder and ball. These admonitions were spoken in a whisper, nor was there any noise made otherwise, lest the elephant should hear and strike off in retreat, or, what was just as likely, charge into their midst. But the caution was acted upon, and not a shot fired; instead, silence preserved by one and all, so profound that the rustling of a leaf might have been heard from afar. There was not a breath of air stirring at the time, and the water was still and smooth as a mirror.
By this the old bull had entered it, and they now saw that something besides thirst had brought him thither. He drank, too, till satisfied, his first performance. After which, wading a stride or two farther in, he proceeded to give himself a shower-bath, drawing the water into his trunk, and blowing it out again upwards, so that it fell over his back in spray as from a whale-spout. For some five minutes had he been thus sprinkling himself, when he was seen all at once to start, pluck his proboscis out of the water, and, uttering a cry as of rage and pain, wheel back towards the beach.
What the cause of this unexpected demonstration was, the spectators could not tell. Amid the eddies he had raised, with floating froth and bubbles, nothing was observable to explain it. And the Karl-kop himself seemed equally ignorant of it, for, on reaching dry land, he faced round again, and stood regarding the spot he had so abruptly abandoned with a puzzled, mystified air.
Only for a few seconds stood he thus, when his little eyes began to sparkle with a peculiar intelligence, his ears giving indication of the same by a satisfied flap or two, as much as to say, “Now I know what did it.” Then, as if determined to have his bath out, he strode back into the water, till nearly knee-deep, and once more plunged his proboscis underneath. But his design was all different, as the spectators were soon made aware by seeing a ripple on the surface of the water, a moving furrow as from the dorsal fin of a shark, but which they knew to be caused by a crocodile. And a crocodile it was; one of small size, not over six or seven feet in length. But surely the same that had made a snap at the elephant’s trunk, inflicting a wound which, though slight, was enough to account for that angry scream, with the action accompanying.
Many tales have been told of the sagacity of elephants, and many instances recorded, truthful too. But, perhaps, never one affording better proof of it, and certainly none stranger, than that the Vee-Boers were witnesses of there and then. Standing still, with trunk partly submerged, the great pachyderm kept the long, flexible feeler in constant, but gentle oscillation, playing its tip horizontally from side to side, as an angler his fly, or mock-minnow.
The bait took almost instantly. Scarce a minute had elapsed, ere the crocodile, drawing close up, under the surface, cautiously, made a second attempt to seize it. This time to get seized itself, and jerked out of the water, as if it had been but a sprat. Then the elephant again facing shoreward, strode out, still holding it in his trunk with octopus-like clasp, more than one lap of the gristly tube being around it. High in air was the reptile raised, to be hoisted yet higher, as soon as the Karl-kop set foot on land.
For it was tossed up into a tree, and fell in a fork between two branches, elastic boughs, that, closing upon it, held it as in a vice, despite all its writhings and wrigglings!
The spectators affirm that the elephant flung it into that particular crotch, with a foreknowledge of the result, though I myself rather think that the deposition was a thing of chance.
From that high eminence the ugly creature never came down, though a bullet, afterwards sent into it in mercy, brought its struggles to an end.
But before this, the Karl-kop had been permitted so depart in peace, without a shot fired at him, young Boers and all now desirous that he should go unscathed. Recalling the scare which the crocodiles had given them, they looked upon him in the light of an ally and avenger. So that without seeing, or having any suspicion of the danger so near him, he went away back upon the same spoor, to continue his lonely life and wanderings.