and the pleasure was increased by my partiality to water, an element with which I became familiar in the early stages of boyhood, and on which I have spent some of my happiest days.
As I felt the cool breeze fanning my cheeks, new life seemed to stir within me, and my heart beat high with joyous excitement.
Our party, at starting, consisted of only three or four canoes; but, as we proceeded on the voyage, the number increased, and ultimately amounted to about a dozen.
In consequence of the frail structure of our craft, and the boatmen’s tenacity in keeping near the shore, we were two days in getting from the Zouga to the western extremity of the Lake, although, in reality, it is only one good day’s voyage. It was not, therefore, until the third day that we reached the chief entrance of the mouth of the Teoge (for here the river spreads out into several branches), where there is a bar. The water was so low on it that although the stream was fast rising at the time (August), we were forced to draw the canoes across it by main force. It is true we might have avoided the inconvenience by proceeding a mile or two to the westward, where a channel exists that is said to be navigable at all seasons.
Our voyage across the Lake was attended with no incident worth recording, but, on reaching the point just mentioned, I had a little adventure with a leché, hundreds of which might be seen grazing and sporting among the shallows and the numerous little islets of the Teoge.
I had gone in advance of my party in the hope of obtaining a shot; but though I met with vast numbers of animals, the openness of the ground prevented me from getting within range. Being quite tired by my severe but fruitless exertions, I was resting on the rifle, contemplating the novel and striking scene—the Lake, with its broad blue waters—its finely-wooded shores—the varied and vast herds of animals—the Teoge, with its numerous little channels and sedgy shores—when I saw, a little ahead of me, two magnificent stag lechés approaching each other, evidently with no friendly intentions. I was right in my conjecture, for in a few seconds afterward they were engaged in combat. Taking advantage of this lucky incident, I approached, unperceived, within a dozen paces, when I quickly dropped on one knee and took a deliberate aim at the shoulder of the nearest; but, just as I pulled the trigger, he received a violent thrust from his antagonist, which made him swerve to one side, and the consequence was that the ball, instead of piercing his heart, merely smashed one of his hind legs. The animals, nevertheless, were so intently engaged, that, notwithstanding the report of the gun, and the wounded state of one of them (he probably attributed this to his adversary), they did not observe me. Throwing aside the rifle, I drew my hunting-knife, and thus armed, rushed upon the combatants. Just, however, as I was about to bury the fatal weapon in the flank of one of the animals, they both suddenly became aware of me, and fled precipitately. The wounded beast at once made for the river, which was hard by, and though it was running very swiftly at this point, perhaps not less than four or five miles an hour, he plunged into the water.
Not being then aware of the aquatic habits of this species of antelope, I was very much astonished, and for a while thought the beast would surely be carried away by the violence of the current and drowned. But I was soon undeceived; for he struck bravely out for the opposite shore, his course being marked with streaks of crimson. On gaining the bank, he gave one glance behind him, shook his bloody and drizzling coat, and made off. I was determined, however, not to be beaten; and, as I had nothing on but a pair of trowsers and a flannel shirt, I threw myself, as I was, into the stream, and soon succeeded in reaching the opposite bank, when I at once started in pursuit.
In this way, swimming and wading alternately, several rivulets, swamps, and dikes were crossed and recrossed; but, for a long time, the result was doubtful. At last, however, the poor animal slackened his pace, staggered, and lay down, but again proceeded, though apparently with pain and difficulty. Seeing this, I redoubled my exertions, and having succeeded in turning him toward the Lake, I drove him right into the water, which was here shallow, and where he several times stuck fast in the mud. I now felt sure of my quarry; and, having approached sufficiently near, I seized him by the wounded leg, and severed the tendon at the knee-joint. The struggle between us now became severe. On trying to lay hold of his horns, which were most formidable weapons, with the intention of cutting his throat, he struck out with so much violence as to upset me, and I was nearly smothered with mud and water. But the poor creature’s course was run. His loss of blood and crippled state soon enabled me to put an end to his miseries. He was a noble old stag—the finest antelope of the species that I ever shot, and they were many; he well rewarded me for all my exertions.
After passing the bar at the mouth of the Teoge, the depth of the water increased, and the current flowed with less velocity—from two to three miles per hour, I should say. For the first few days’ journey the country presented a rather dreary and monotonous appearance, being frequently flooded for many miles, thus converting the land on both sides into extensive reedy marshes, only occasionally relieved by a pleasant group of the date and the fan-palm. The banks were in many places so low that, when bivouacking on shore, we often slept in the water. Even where the banks rose a few feet above the surface, they were entirely undermined by the stream; and if a stick was thrust through, water immediately appeared in the hole. Fuel was exceedingly scarce, and could only be purchased from the natives (thinly scattered along its banks), who not unfrequently brought it from a very great distance.