Resumed search through bush about 2 p.m., about which time some Dama Gazelles were seen resting in the heat of day. Those animals were given a wide berth and left undisturbed, as is my unvarying custom when the search for ostrich is afoot. In my opinion, to disturb any such game which, for the time being, happen to be of secondary interest, and set them hurrying away before you in alarm, is almost as bad as to lose patience and fire an unimportant shot, for in both cases you stand to spoil the great chance you hope for, since there is always the possibility of giving warning to the creatures you seek, and which may at any moment be at hand all unknown to the hunter.
Close on 4 p.m. we came upon a very fresh ostrich track where a bird had passed about two hours earlier in the afternoon. Followed track some distance, but bird not seen, and gave up, as there appeared no prospect of overtaking it before darkness set in; indeed, so far as that was concerned, there was no certainty that it would be overtaken even in a whole day’s travelling, for they are birds that are incessantly moving on from place to place, while, if alarmed, they run long distances before assured that they are safe from their enemies.
Leaving the ostrich tracks, we started on a long wearisome journey in a westerly direction to camp, while the sun set and the day finished. I and the natives—Sakari, Tsofo, and the man with the camels—showed much relief and gladness when at last, after the trying labour of picking our way over rough unfamiliar country in the dark, we caught the welcome light of our camp-fires, beckoning from afar; and we were safely back in camp an hour and a half after dark.
From what I have thus far seen, added to local information gleaned from more than one quarter, I am satisfied that ostriches are far from plentiful in this isolated strip of country that they inhabit, and it has been, and will continue to be, hard hunting to secure the desired specimens— long arduous days of tracking through the sand-swept bush, beneath the inextinguishable sun, until one day, perchance, we meet across each other’s tracks. Tsofo, the old native hunter, claims that for a number of years hunting conditions within the territory have been undergoing change owing to the influx of nomad Tuaregs, with their herds of goats and cattle, from the neighbourhood of Aïr. Those natives in small numbers are now scattered about in the bush at distant intervals, and, possibly, if they were sedentary, no harm would be done, but the necessity of constantly changing to fresh ground, so that enough food may be found for their herds, and their own strong nomadic instincts, lead those Tuaregs to range from place to place continually and disturb considerable areas, and Tsofo rightly claims that this circumstance greatly tends to frighten any timid game such as the ostrich, for nothing is more disturbing to their keen senses than to come across the tainted trail which clumsy herds of domestic animals invariably leave behind wherever they happen to pass, or pause in feeding. Tsofo declares, and no doubt there is a lot of truth in his statement, that when the French occupied Agades (the first French military mission visited Agades in 1904), some of the wild unenthralled Tuaregs of Aïr fled from the country in fear of the invaders and scattered broadcast on the edge of the desert as far south as the neighbourhood of Tanout in their secretive, gipsy-like wanderings.
10th March.—Hunting as unfruitful as yesterday.
11th March.—Almost at dark, after a long uneventful tramp through the bush, I at last sighted ostrich. Crossing from a bare open glade, and approaching quite close to an edge of fairly thick bush, I suddenly stood motionless in my stride, for I had seen the head and neck of an ostrich just within the cover. The acacias awkwardly blocked further view, and breathlessly I made a short careful creep forward. When I rose, inch by inch, to peer forward, I found I was quite close to a great black male ostrich, but, unfortunately, it stood on the far side of a tree, and the trunk and all intervening branches and foliage hid it to such an extent that I could not discern head from tail, nor where to place a fatal shot. Therefore I tried to change my position very slightly, and was in the act of doing so, when, of a sudden, another bird on my right, a grey hen which I had not seen amongst the bushes nor thought of guarding against, rushed off in alarm, startling the bird I was stalking and two others. In an instant, almost, they were out of sight among the bushes, and although I rushed forward hoping that an open space was not far ahead and that I would get a shot at them making off, I had no such luck, and never saw them again. My disappointment was acute, the more so because I had plenty of time to fire from the first position, after crawling forward, if I had foreseen what was to follow, and taken the risk of getting a lucky shot home.
Who that is a sportsman does not know disappointment of the kind? I fancy we all do, and, moreover, have been lured on to stick to many a difficult quest in once having seen and let escape some much-prized quarry. Does not the fisherman who has risen a nice fish and missed it, after many patient hours on the water, go on thereafter with a new zest and a brighter outlook? It was so in my case; and, instead of returning to Takoukout, and having sufficient water on the camels, we camped out in the bush this night with a new excitement, and hoping to make amends on the morrow.
12th March.—Camped comfortably overnight.
Hopes awakened by yesterday’s experience doomed to disappointment, for the day’s hunting brought no reward. Returned to camp in the afternoon; very tired, for the sun and the glittering sand take it out of one. The sun seems to hold its fatiguing intensity from 9 a.m. till 4 p.m. at this time of year.
A number of gazelles seen, and tracks in the sand are constantly crossed. It is splendid country for tracking, and most interesting to read and study the signs upon the smooth sand.