“Sir! when you have had my experience, you will never call that man a coward who does not attack a wounded black rhinoceros on an open and naked plain. I would rather,” he continued, “face fifty lions than one of these animals in such an exposed situation, for not one in a hundred would take it as quietly as this has done. A wounded black rhinoceros seldom waits to be attacked, but charges instantly; and there would not have been the least chance of saving one’s life in an open place like this. Had there been but the smallest bush or stone, I shouldn’t have hesitated a moment, for the sight of the rhinoceros is bad, and if there is the least cover it is easy to avoid him. Not many years ago, a great Namaqua chief, who, contrary to the advice of his friends, had fired at a rhinoceros under precisely similar circumstances to yourself, lost his life by his rashness.”
I could not but be sensibly aware of the injustice of my accusation and my own foolhardiness; yet I then felt but half convinced of the truth of what Hans had told me, and should certainly have acted in the like imprudent manner (as indeed I did on many subsequent occasions) had another opportunity offered. But, after all, Hans was perfectly right, as I am sure every one who has come much in contact with the beast in question will readily admit. Indeed, after the severe lesson which, at an after period, I received from a black rhinoceros, I am free to confess that nothing in the world would ever again induce me willfully to expose myself in the way just mentioned.
To proceed. After receiving my fire, both mother and calf galloped off as fast as their legs would carry them; but gradually they slackened their pace to a canter, then to a trot, and finally to a walk. By this time, however, they were so far away that, but for the certain knowledge of their identity, we might readily have taken them for stocks or stones. The indistinctness of objects, moreover, even at a moderate distance, was increased by the effects of a most perplexing mirage.
While discussing the propriety of following up the rhinoceroses, we saw them make for an isolated tree, no doubt with the intention of sheltering themselves from the scorching rays of the sun. This decided us on continuing the chase; and, although suffering greatly from thirst (our small supply of water having been long exhausted), the hope of ultimate success gave us strength to proceed.
Approaching under cover of some stunted bushes, and when almost certain of closing with the beasts, and putting an end to one or both, I was startled by the report of guns close behind me, and on turning round I found that Hans and our man had fired. I never felt more vexed in my life, for we were still a good hundred yards from the animals, and it had been previously agreed that—unless the beasts knew of our presence—we were not to fire until within a very short distance of them. As, however, the evil could not be remedied, I lost no time in firing; but the brutes being fully one hundred and fifty paces from me, I had small hope of inflicting serious injury. That I hit the mother, however, was very certain, for, at the instant of discharging my gun, she bounded like a cat into the air; and Hans, who looked upon this as a sure sign of her being mortally wounded, exclaimed, “Aha, old girl, you are safe!” Annoyed as I was, I could not help smiling, and ironically replied, “To be sure, she is safe enough.” And so it proved, for we never saw her or her calf again.
I felt disappointed at our failure and the chance of a feast, and was moreover sorry for the poor rhinoceros; for, though she was lost to us, I felt certain it was only to die a lingering death at a distance. From experience, indeed, I should say that a similar fate awaits a large portion of birds and animals that escape us after being badly wounded.
Under ordinary circumstances, I would certainly have continued the pursuit; but this was now impossible. We could not reach our encampment under many hours, and we suffered painfully from thirst; while, owing to severe and continued exertions under a burning sun, I was attacked by torturing headache. Long before we could reach the wagons, I experienced precisely the same feelings as when I received a sun-stroke. Knowing that a renewal of the same infliction would in all probability prove fatal, I still toiled on; yet, at last, the faintness and exhaustion became so overpowering, that, regardless of danger, I threw myself on a small flat rock, so heated by the sun that I was unable to hold my hand on it for a moment, and even the limbs protected by my dress were almost blistered. I then urged Hans to proceed as quickly as possible, in order that, if he found I did not immediately follow, he might send me some water.
Hans had not long been gone, however, when the rock became so intolerably hot that, stupefied as I was, I found it necessary to rise from it; when, with a faltering step, and in a state of almost total unconsciousness, I made for the wagons, which I reached in safety just as Hans was about to dispatch a man to me with an ample supply of water. My apprehensions, however, had been vain. A few hours’ rest and quiet gradually restored me.
The oppressive heat under which I had suffered so severely had also made the cattle very thirsty, and they refused to eat the dry and sunburnt grass. As soon, therefore, as the air became a little cooler, we pushed on to Onanis, where we arrived somewhat late in the evening. Notwithstanding the darkness, and the risk of being attacked by lions, which sometimes swarm here, we were obliged to supply our cattle with water; and, as we had to dig for it in the bed of a small periodical stream hard by, it was close on midnight before we could think of refreshment or sleep.
Onanis is the permanent residence of a kraal of very poor Hill-Damaras,[11] who subsist chiefly upon the few wild roots which their sterile neighborhood produces. Most of them, however, manage to raise a little tobacco, for which they have a perfect mania, and which, moreover, they value nearly as much as the necessaries of life.