Seeing no reason why I should remain longer in my private box, as it were, the drama having come to an end, I made haste to descend; but whether it was through being incommoded with the spears I carried, or from some other reason, certain it is that I had not got more than half-way down, when I fell—fell, as ill luck would have it, right into the extended branches of a hook plant. Instantly aware of my danger, I strove to free myself; but quickly found that what Mr Ferguson had said was true—that the more one tried to clear themselves, the more entangled they would get. The plant seemed endowed with life, and with its fingers fastened closer and closer about me at the least move; therefore I wisely remained motionless, only exerting my voice, which I did to the top of my lungs.
For some while no heed was paid to me, all the Kaffirs being too busily engaged with their prize; but after about a quarter of an hour, as far as I could judge, Tugela came to ascertain the cause of my shouting. On perceiving the fix I was in, he burst into a fit of laughter, for the Kaffir dearly loves fun, or anything verging on a joke. Seeing nothing I could do better, I joined him, till his face growing rather more serious, I put the question as to how I was to get free.
There was but one method. Like the sheep in the fable, which got into a thorn bush to shelter itself from the storm, to quit it I was compelled to leave my fleece, or clothes, behind me. This, considering the state they were in, I found but little difficulty in doing, and when once extricated, with Tugela’s help, I managed to recover my rags by cutting them from the thorns. On donning them, however, I became aware that I should very speedily have to adopt the native dress entirely unless I intended to go without any costume, at all. This was the first time I had come in close contact with the unfriendly grasp of the hook plant, but, I am sorry to say, it was not the last. I shall have to recount a similar event farther on, when I was not so fortunate in getting so speedily extricated, but really believed that, after all my hair-breadth escapes, death had seized me indeed. But to return to the hunting party.
Metilulu had by this time arrived, and was waiting in the glade for the next ceremonies to begin. I had now of necessity to make my appearance before him, and did so with some trepidation, but to my great relief found that he welcomed me with a smile, and by a sign invited me to sit down by him. I instantly obeyed, and, as a natural consequence on such instances, Tugela took his place close at hand. I knew by his expression that the first remark the chief made was respecting my torn garments, the reason for which seemed to amuse him as much as it had the interpreter, for he laughed heartily; in fact, to my satisfaction, he appeared in the best of tempers; perhaps it arose from the prospect of the feast he was going to enjoy, and the joila or beer he had drunk, for a jar of that much beloved liquor stood within reach, and of which he condescendingly invited me to partake. He then, through Tugela, asked me what I had thought of the hunt, and how it was conducted in our country. I replied that we had no such animals in England, or even in Europe, but when our people settled in or visited Africa, or another great country called India, they used a rifle which killed the elephants in a quarter of the time the assagais did. This seemed much to astonish him, though he had heard of and even seen guns; the Boers had them, he said, and some travellers who had once stayed at the kraal a few days had carried such weapons.
My readers may imagine how my heart leaped at this last news, which showed that white men did occasionally come there, and were permitted to leave unmolested. I drew hope for my own deliverance from it, and the landscape, with its candelabra-looking euphorbia trees and parasitical monkey-ropes, seemed to put on a far brighter aspect to my eyes than they had the moment before.
So elated was I at the intelligence I had just heard, that I determined to win Metilulu’s good opinion as much as I possibly could, for which purpose I gave Tugela enough to do to interpret the enthusiastic praises I expressed for everything—omitting the wizard affair, of course—which I had witnessed in Caffraria; while I also gave the chief long accounts upon any subject respecting my own land that I thought would amuse him.
During our conversation the hunters had been engaged with the slain elephant. Having cut a large hole in its side, they removed the intestines, which in their opinion is the finest part; then as they were to camp out, and the feast to be held there, two of the animal’s massive feet were severed, and prepared to be baked with some slices of the trunk.
The method of baking is as follows:—A large hole is dug in the ground, which is filled with wood and dry moss; this is ignited, and kept supplied till the cavity is filled with bright glowing embers; these are removed by the Kaffirs with large poles—for the heat is intense,—then the large elephant’s foot is rolled into the burning hole, and immediately covered with fresh branches, which are lighted—a bonfire is made, indeed, and when it has burnt itself out the cooking is considered complete.
The foot presents when done a most gelatinous appearance, and, as I was honoured by dining with the chief, I suppose I was regaled with the best parts. I must own, whether it was hunger acting as an excellent sauce or not, that I thought it extremely good, and enjoyed the repast.
The feasting lasted some time; for when a Kaffir gets an opportunity of eating flesh ad libitum, he makes good use of it, and their capacity of consumption is immense, as will be seen when I state that, on looking round at the conclusion of the meal, I perceived the skeleton of the elephant alone remaining. Save a few strips hung over the branches of the trees to dry for the morrow—called “biltongue” in the native language—every atom of the flesh had been consumed.