Page 9.
SHOOTING WILD GEESE AT MOFFAT’S SALT PAN.
At daybreak next morning, I started off with Theunissen on a hunting-excursion. There had been rain in the night, and the air was somewhat cool, so that it was with a feeling of satisfaction that I hailed the rising sun as its early beam darted down the vale and was reflected in the water. On the opposite shore we noticed a flock of that stateliest of waders, the flamingo, with its deep red plumage and strong brown beak. Close beside them was a group of brown geese wading towards us, and screeching as they came was a double file of grey cranes, whilst a gathering of herons was keeping watch upon some rocks that projected from the water. High above the lake could be heard the melodious long-drawn note of the mahem, and amidst the numbers of the larger birds that thronged the surface of the water was what seemed a countless abundance of moorhens and ducks. I stood and gazed upon the lively scene till I was quite absorbed. All at once a sharp whistle from my companion recalled me to myself. I was immediately aware of the approach of a flock of dark brown geese; though unwieldly, they made a rapid flight, their heavy wings making a considerable whirr. A shot from each of my barrels brought down two of the birds into the reeds; the rest turned sharply off to the left, leaving Theunissen, disappointed at not getting the shot he expected, to follow them towards the plain to no purpose. Great was the commotion that my own shots made amongst the denizens of the lake. Quickly rose the grey cranes from the shallow water, scarce two feet deep, and made for the shore where we were standing. In the excitement of their alarm, the crowned cranes took to flight in exactly the opposite direction; the flamingoes hurried hither and thither, apparently at a loss whether to fly or to run, until one of them catching sight of me rose high into the air, screeching wildly, and was followed by the entire train soaring aloft till they looked no larger than crows; the black geese, on the other hand, left the grass to take refuge in the water, and the smaller birds forsook the reeds, as deeming the centre of the lake the place of safety.
We were not long out. We returned to breakfast, and while we were taking our meal we caught sight of a herd of blessbocks, numbering at least 250 head, grazing in the depression of the hills on the opposite shore. Breakfast, of course, was forgotten and left unfinished. Off we started; the chase was long, but it was unattended with success. Our toil, however, was not entirely without compensation, as on our return we secured a fine grey crane. Pit likewise in the course of the day shot several birds, and in the afternoon excited our interest by saying that he had discovered the nest of a royal crane.
I went to the reedy pool to which he directed me, about a mile and a half to the north of our place of encampment, and on a little islet hardly more than seven feet square, sure enough was a hollow forming the nest, which contained two long white eggs, each about the size of my fist. I took the measurement of the nest, and found it as nearly as possible thirty inches in diameter, and six inches deep.
Vol. II.
Page 11.
HUNTING AMONG THE ROCKS AT MOLEMA.
While I was resting one afternoon in a glen between the hills, I noticed a repetition of what I had observed already in the course of my second journey, namely, that springbocks, in going to drink, act as pioneers for other game, and that blessbocks and gnus follow in their wake, but only when it has been ascertained that all is safe.