A BAROLONG STORY-TELLER.
Several of the residents, who entered into conversation with us, informed us that the surrounding hills, as well as the heights along the Sitlagole and Maretsana Rivers, were infested with lions, which were so accustomed to the sight of men and to the sound of fire-arms that they were incredibly bold. Although the plains were abundantly supplied with game, the monarchs of the forest exhibited a decided predilection for domestic animals; and the chief, Shebor, told us that he had to lament, not only the loss of many of his cattle, but of several of his people; and he advised us to keep a sharp look-out all along the opposite hills, which were amongst their favourite resorts.
He related a distressing incident that had occurred on one of the neighbouring rivers. A party of natives were on their way from Maraba, in the Makalaka country, to the diamond-fields, a distance of 800 miles. It was by no means unusual for such parties to quit their homes with simply a hide and an assegai, quite prepared, during their long and arduous journey, to live on nothing but roots, wild fruit, and occasionally a small head of game. The spectacle they would present to any traveller who might meet them was very piteous. Sometimes they would be almost destitute of food of any sort for days together, and be reduced well-nigh to skeletons. Their progress would become more and more painful; and they would endeavour to mitigate the pangs of hunger by drawing in the waist-bands which with a strip of hide formed clothing. The ordinary custom was for them to travel in single file, the strongest first, then the less robust, followed by the weakest; so that an invalid would often be quite by himself, a long way in the rear. In the party of which the chief was speaking there were two brothers, one of whom, on account of his feeble condition of health, had for more than a week been obliged to take his place last in the procession. Arriving at the bank of the Sitlagole, the party halted to search for some roots, not unlike turnips, which were known to grow there, and which they hoped to cook and enjoy for supper. They found the roots in such abundance that it was resolved to spend the night on the spot, and they kindled a fire to prepare their meal. On closing in, it was soon ascertained that the sick comrade was missing. They looked at each other with much perplexity; but the brother of the absent man, without losing a moment, snatched up his own and his brother’s share of the roots that had been gathered, fastened them to a strap upon his shoulder, seized his assegai, and started off. The rest drew closer in, enjoyed their supper, lighted up several additional fires as a protection from attack, and laid themselves down under the bushes to sleep.
The missing Bechuana was a Batloka, and the evidence went to show that the poor fellow had been compelled to rest so often and so long from his weakness, hunger, and sore feet, that he had fallen far into the rear, and, missing his way, had strayed into a rocky valley full of bushes that were notoriously the haunt of lions. Here no doubt he had been pounced upon and killed, for the brother had not gone far before he could trace the spot where the proper path had been left, and proceeding onwards he soon observed a lion’s footprints in the sand. Instead of turning back, he had apparently caught sight of his brother’s stick, straw hat, and gourd bottle, lying on the ground, and, trusting to his assegai, had resolved to venture on alone.
THE BECHUANA FINDS THE REMAINS OF HIS BROTHER.
Page 205.
“But what was an assegai,” exclaimed Shebor, “in the face of a lion who had just tasted human blood?”
It was clear that before he reached his brother’s corpse the lion had sprung from its concealment, and secured him as a second victim.