The secretary-bird is one of the greatest destroyers of snakes, and either is proof against their bites or is too active to be bitten. He seizes them generally by the neck, and goes sailing aloft with a long reptile wriggling about in agonies. If the bird finds the snake troublesome during his aerial voyage, he lets it fall a few thousand feet on to the hardest ground, and then quickly following after, takes the snake on another trip. A fine in money is very properly imposed in the Cape colony on the destroyer of one of these birds.
Chapter Sixteen.
An invitation—Terrific storm—Silent eloquence—Mounted Bushmen—The Bushman as an enemy—A Dutch hunter—Gallant Defence—A Cockney traveller—Boer incredulity—British disbelief—Adventure with a Bushman—African rivers—Change of sentiments.
During another visit of some months at Pietermaritzburg, where I had some excellent reitbok and ourebi shooting, I accepted an invitation to a friend’s residence near the sources of the Umganie. A night passed under the canopy of heaven was never to me a matter much to be feared, if good sport was the result; and these residences on the border of the game country made very good starting points for two or three days’ roughing it in the open plains. With my two horses and a Kaffir, I started with a very vague idea as to the position of my friend’s residence. I crossed the Umganie near the falls, and struck off to the left of the road that leads to Bushman’s River, and after riding about three hours, I made inquiry from some Kaffirs whom I met about the distance I was to go. Their explanation of distance is by the single word hide; it expresses how long, from a day’s journey to a mile, the ku being dwelt on for about ten seconds, means a long way. When it is spoken quickly, the place asked for is close; in the present instance, the ku—u—u—de was expressive of several miles. As it was near sunset, I asked where the sun would be when I arrived at my destination. They told me that if I “cachema” (rode fast or ran), the sun would set before I had gone more than so far, pointing to about half of a stick he held in his hand; this explanation gave me as good an idea of the distance, as though he had told it me in miles and furlongs. We pushed on as fast as we could; but as there was no road, and the sun occasionally hidden by dark clouds, it was difficult to keep exactly the course, especially as many deep ravines crossed our intended road. As the sun was going down, there seemed every sign of a severe storm. Those only who have seen a tropical thunder-storm can judge what a pleasant prospect there was before us, for an open plain affords a poor shelter from its violence. As no sign of a habitation appeared on the line we were pursuing, I struck off to the right, where a kloof a mile distant offered a prospect of shelter. On reaching it, some large trees, with the usual creepers spreading over them, made a fairish shield against the expected pelting shower. I off-saddled the horses, making them fast to a tree. I sat upon one of the saddles, covered with a blanket I usually carried under it, and made the Kaffir do the same with the other. The deep gloom and heavy clouds that had advanced from the horizon over our heads, and sped along as if by express, caused darkness in a few minutes. The slight gusts of wind, wild and unmeaning, rustled the leaves about in an unnatural sort of way, while little whirlwinds seemed to search out every small track of sand, and raise it in revolving clouds. The birds flew for shelter in the kloof, and flitted about from tree to tree, as though anxious and alarmed at the signs of the coming storm. The horses would not eat the grass that was almost tickling their noses, but, with one ear forward and the other back, showed by their restlessness a sense of the approach of the demon of storm. The storm approached too—like a demon. From the deep black horizon vivid flashes of lightning dashed with uncounted rapidity, the answering thunder not being in distinct and separate claps, but in one sullen roar; nearer and nearer it came with giant strides, while where I sat, all was still quiet, save the slight complaining sound of an occasional whirlwind among the trees. I could mark the course of the storm, as it came nearer, as easily as that of a troop of horse. First, the dust in dense clouds, with leaves and grass, etc., was driven furiously along; then came the rain (it ought to have had some other name, it was no more like the thing called rain in England than the Atlantic is like a pond), its force laid every thing flat before it—the lightning following with blinding brilliancy. This storm was like a whole host of common thunderstorms in a fury. The kloof that I was in offered me no shelter against these torrents, and I was wet to the skin in about one minute, the water running out of my clothes. I was obliged to shut my eyes and cover them with my hand, to stop the pain caused by the dazzling of the pale blue sparks, which flew from one side of the horizon to the other, and from the heavens to the earth, with messages that no man could read. The whole thing was like the encounter of a vast host, one fleeing, the other pursuing—it came and was gone in half an hour. The moon then appeared with its beautiful silvery light, the furious hurricane having passed on its course to the vast plains and mountains of the mysterious interior. Every insect who possessed “a shrill small horn” now began piping it in rejoicing, the cricket and beetles making the air vibrate with the sharp note they utter; while on the plains in front of me, a couple of antelopes walked out to graze, conscious already that the danger was over. After a severe storm all the animal creation seem on the move, and, although it was long past the bed-time of the feathered inhabitants of the ravine, they began hitting about from tree to tree; while some green parrots that seemed to reside here, and had been caught in the storm, and therefore obliged to seek shelter elsewhere, returned in parties of twos and threes, and were then noisily welcomed by their more fortunate fellows. My Kaffir seemed awed by the lightning and thunder; he ate a little of his “mùti” (charmed medicine) that was round his neck, and sat immovable. When the storm had passed he looked steadily at me for a few seconds, covering his mouth with his hand in his usual way, shook his head two or three times, and shut his eyes. One must have seen his performance to have judged of his eloquence.
As the night was so brilliant, I determined to push on and try to find my friend’s location, for I was unpleasantly moist, and everything was so wet that fighting a fire would have been no easy matter. In Africa we travel by “direction:” “Go out in that direction for two days, and you will come to my house,” is about the amount of information you frequently get. I knew which way to steer, so pushed straight on in the hope of seeing some sign of a house. After riding about an hour, I saw two horsemen going up a hill opposite to me, about half a mile distant; they were going on slowly, but I could not make them out well, as they were over the ridge so soon. I galloped on after them, thinking that they must be some one from my friends, sent out in search of me, but upon getting on the hill, the horsemen had passed over. I saw them a few hundred yards in advance, they were looking away from me, and one was pointing out something to the other. Before I could see well who they were, my Kaffir came to my side, and exclaimed, Ma me, ma me!—bululu bulala!—chingana Bushman. (“Ma me,” is a term of surprise, “shoot, shoot, rascally Bushman!”). To explain this apparently cruel proposition, I must state that the Bushmen about here were looked upon with the most deadly hatred, “every man’s hand was against them, and theirs against every man.” They were the farmer’s greatest enemies—wandering from place to place; they had strongholds in the most inaccessible mountains—active as baboons they retreated to these when no other place was secure. For days and nights they would watch from some secret lookout, the cattle or horses of a Boer or Kaffir. Then having made themselves acquainted with the customs and precautions of their purposed victims, they at length crept down to the kraal containing the cattle or horses, took them quietly out early in the night, and made a rapid retreat before the morning light would enable the robbed to discover their loss; the Bushmen then being some thirty miles distant. Pursuit is often impossible, because every horse is generally taken. Should they be pursued, and see no chance of keeping the cattle, they will then either hamstring them or stick a poisoned arrow into them, and thus prevent the farmer from taking advantage of his speedy pursuit. The Bushman himself being very light, and always having a good horse, easily gets away. If by chance his horse is shot, and he reduced to his own legs, he scrambles like a baboon up the rocks if any are near; if not, he seeks cover behind an ant-hill, or in a wolf-hole, and prepares his poisoned arrows for defence. Armed with a quiver full, with five on each side of his head for immediate use, he cannot be approached with impunity, for at eighty yards the Bushman can strike a buck while running. Should a man be wounded, then—
“Where it draws blood, no cataplasm so rare,
Collected from all simples that have virtue
Under the moon, can save the thing from death.”
These ten arrows can be delivered in about twice as many seconds; one would assume the appearance therefore of a fretful porcupine, should he venture near these venomous wretches. Forbearance is by the savage, frequently mistaken for fear, and dog-like he then seeks to worry. Lest such should be the case with these men, I sent a bullet a few yards over their heads, and its music was the first intimation they had that their council of two was interrupted. They stayed not to complain, but lying flat on their horses’ necks, which thus appeared riderless, dashed away into the blue distance. My Kaffir seemed disappointed at the result; he kept quiet for some time, and then remarked, “If they had been buck, you would have hit them,”—it was half an inquiry and half a reproof. He would neither have understood or appreciated any moral reasoning I could have given him against taking the life of a fellow creature, however low in scale of humanity.
The reflection of the moon on some windows directed me to the residence of my friend, where a blazing fire, a change of clothes, a plentiful dinner, and a glass of good brandy and water caused a total revolution in my feelings, and I began to think that happiness was not excluded from the simple wattle-and-daub hut of the solitary resident of South Africa.