The track having been discovered, the hunters proceeded with much caution. Slowly we advanced, I finding some difficulty in making my way through the bush like the natives, with their smooth, well-oiled bodies, though I managed to keep on, carefully avoiding, however, any parasite at all resembling the uncaria procumbens, or hook plant.
About an hour after we had lighted upon the first footprints, we reached an opening or glade within the bush, where through the tall tree-trunks we perceived about four or five elephants browsing. My lack of knowledge respecting hunting in Caffraria would speedily have finished me entirely had not Tugela had the forethought to advise me to take to a tree, and hurl my assagais from thence; for to an European, with a body not devoid of clothes, neither well oiled nor accustomed to the exercise, it would be impossible to penetrate the bush rapidly, as it would soon become necessary to do to avoid the enraged animal, which, when struck, always took to the forest in the direction of his assailants.
Accepting his advice, I speedily selected a tall tree, which, thanks to my nautical experience, I climbed with ease, and from its branches looked down upon the black, shining bodies of the hunters and the browsing elephants, as yet unconscious of the danger which was so near at hand.
Tugela had pointed out to me the beast which was to be the victim—a fine fellow truly—and I longed for one of our English rifles, when I could have picked him off in two twos, whereas I soon found the assagai wounded only to irritation, and finally killed by exhaustion, such as a man might die from on being pricked to death by large pins. I have no doubt this is the reason which makes the Kaffirs, in a herd of these animals, attack one and one only. Looking down, I perceived that the hunters were approaching the edge of the bush, which yet concealed them, wriggling through it like snakes, with their assagais ready to hand. As they neared the open space, I fancied the elephants became aware of our presence, for the one we had spotted threw up his trunk suddenly, stamped with its foot, and uttered one of their loud, peculiar, trumpet-like cries. The next moment some twenty assagais shot with unerring aim through the air, and penetrated the animal’s thick leather-like hide.
His cry of fear and rage was terrible to hear. First he seemed confounded, then, while the rest fled in terror, conscious, no doubt, by his cries that danger was in their neighbourhood, he rushed blindly forward into the bush.
I now recognised the wisdom of Tugela’s advice to such an amateur hand as I; for as the enraged beast dashed on, trampling the underwood beneath his feet, it was as much as the Kaffirs themselves could do to avoid being crushed by slipping out of the way. Like monkeys, they dodged about him, darting their assagais at every opportunity that presented itself, while I from my vantage-ground hurled one now and then with all the force I could command.
I must not forget to mention one very important auxiliary of the hunters. This was their dogs. These little wretches, now let loose, snapped and barked about the ponderous creature, irritating him to such a degree as to render him at times quite regardless of the sharp stings—for they appeared little more—of the spears.
I have said that I cast one of my assagais only occasionally. I did so for this reason: I now had always the thought of escape before my eyes, so I refrained from parting with all my weapons, thinking they might prove of greater use hereafter; so I merely acted as spectator, and looked on till I began to fancy the miserable creature—whose trumpet-like bellowings were growing fainter and fainter—never would fall. It truly was a cruel kind of hunting. His massive body was covered with blood streaming from the many wounds, and he staggered on his thick legs; but he yet continued to dash at his assailants, maddened by rage and pain, and strove to turn sharply upon the snapping, barking dogs. At last, however, when his black hide resembled a lady’s pincushion supplied with many pins, he gave a great reel, a final cry, and sunk slowly upon his knees, apparently dead.
A delighted shout issued from the throats of the hunters, as, swarming forward, they repossessed themselves of their weapons, then proceeded to place on the animal’s tusks the mark of their owner, who, by hunters’ rules, was the one who had inflicted the first wound, after which they cut off its tail, that being, like the fox’s brush in England, considered a great trophy.