After only three weeks’ stay at Scheppmansdorf, and though our oxen were but partially broken-in, Hans one day informed me that we might set out in safety. Accordingly, the final arrangements were hastily completed, and on the 13th of November I once more bade farewell to the place, and its kind, obliging, and hospitable inhabitants.
At first starting, and while the sand was very deep and yielding, the oxen caused us much trouble; but when we were on the hard and firm Naarip, all went well, and we arrived at the Usab gorge, where we encamped, without farther inconvenience than passing a cold and sleepless night.
The next evening we resumed our journey, but, instead of following the course of the Swakop—which, with our young oxen and heavy wagons, would have been next to impossible—it was deemed advisable that we should still continue on the Naarip, where, though water was scarce, the road was hard and good. Tincas Mountain, which on our former journey was to the right, was now, of course, to our left. After about fourteen hours’ fatiguing travel we reached the small River Tincas, where we unyoked, and rested ourselves and the weary oxen until nightfall, when we were again en route.
As we had now adopted the plan of traveling during the night, so as not to distress the animals too much, we found it necessary to keep a sharp look-out, both on account of the wild beasts, and for fear of losing our way. The latter was particularly to be guarded against; for, in this land of drought, any considerable deviation from the regular track is not unfrequently followed by serious consequences. Hans and myself were accustomed to keep watch by turns, for we never dared trust to the men; but this night, owing to our previous fatigue, we both unfortunately fell asleep.
When I awoke, I found that we were far out of our proper course, and all the men were snoring in the wagons. However, as it was starlight, and the landmarks very conspicuous, we had not much difficulty in recovering the proper track.
Toward break of day we unyoked the tired oxen in the bed of a small dry water-course, where we found abundance of excellent grass. The unattached cattle did not join us till late in the afternoon, as the men in charge of them had fallen asleep. Their negligence, however, was excused on account of the good news they brought. It appeared that soon after it was light they discovered a huge rhinoceros, accompanied by a nearly full-grown calf, following in their wake, and that they had only lost sight of the beasts when within a short distance of our bivouac.
So favorable an opportunity was too tempting to let slip. Having hurriedly partaken of some breakfast, and provided ourselves with a small supply of water, I, Hans, and an attendant started in pursuit of the animals, and we had not left the camp for much more than an hour when we fell in with their “spoor.” The beasts themselves, however, could nowhere be seen; and as several tracks crossed each other more than once (the animals having probably been feeding thereabouts), Hans and I took different directions in search of the trail we were to follow. We had hardly parted when I heard a tremendous crash among the bushes, and about a hundred yards in advance I saw, to my great vexation, the two rhinoceroses going away at full speed. Notwithstanding the distance and the unfavorable position of the beasts, I fired at the mother; but, though the ball apparently took effect, she in no wise slackened her pace.
Hans did not discharge his gun, because, as he said, the bushes prevented him from having more than a very indistinct view of the beasts.
When I had reloaded we gave chase, and as that part of the plain we had now reached was totally devoid of every kind of vegetation that could obstruct the sight, we easily kept the animals in view. By degrees they slackened their speed, and in about twenty minutes abruptly came to a stand-still, curiously regarding me as, having (though unobserved to myself) separated from Hans, I rapidly made up to them. When within fifteen to twenty paces, I halted, took aim at the mother, and pulled the trigger, but, to my great annoyance, my gun missed fire. While in the very act of discharging my second barrel she wheeled about, and the ball, instead of entering her heart, lodged in her hind quarters, and only tended to quicken her pace.
In the heat of pursuit, I had taken no notice of Hans and our attendant; but, now that my attention was no longer exclusively drawn to the rhinoceros, I looked round to ascertain why they had not fired as well as myself, when, to my utter astonishment, I saw both of them about half a mile in the background, standing motionless, and watching my proceedings. On their rejoining me, and in the first burst of indignation, I charged them with cowardice; but Hans immediately drew himself up to his full height, and indignantly but respectfully replied as follows: