About an hour after sunrise on the following morning I again presented myself before the king, with the request that I be permitted to continue my journey. I was very cordially received by His Majesty, who again thanked me for the service which I had rendered him on the preceding day by slaying the buffalo, and so saving him from the ignominy of flight, or the almost equally unpleasant alternative of submitting to be charged by the brute. In the privacy of his itunkulu he was much more expansive than he had been on the previous day in the presence of his indunas, unhesitatingly admitting that, had he been compelled to accept either of the above-mentioned alternatives, he would have suffered serious loss of prestige in the eyes of his own people. He informed me that upon his return to the kraal on the preceding day he had given instructions that a body of men should be dispatched to bring in the carcasses of the slaughtered buffalo, which had been done, and he now made the offer that, if I pleased, he would have the skins carefully dressed, and the skulls and horns preserved, so that I might take the whole back with me to civilisation, as trophies, upon my return. Of course I thanked him for his exceedingly generous offer, which I gladly accepted so far as the three buffalo killed by myself were concerned; and therewith we parted upon the very best of terms, the king according me full permission to go where I pleased in his country, remain in it as long as I chose, and kill all the game that I had a mind to, while I made His Majesty inexpressibly proud and happy by presenting him with a burning-glass and showing him how to kindle a fire by its means. Then, my ceremonial visit being at an end, I returned to the wagon, ordered the oxen to be inspanned, and resumed my journey.
The ensuing fortnight was spent in progressing slowly northward through that part of Basutoland which lies between the Machacha mountain range and what is now known as the Caledon River, hunting all the way. But although the sport, such as it was, was good, enabling me to bag five lions, eight leopards, and three splendid specimens of rhinoceros, and although buck of all kinds, and buffalo, were plentiful enough to have enabled me to fill the wagon with their skins and horns, had I desired to do so, the sport was not the kind that I desired; I was out after elephant, and Basutoland was not elephant country. Therefore, at the end of the fortnight, I crossed the headwaters of the Caledon, and entered what in after years became the Orange Free State, and, still later, the Orange River Colony. Thence, passing between the two mountain ranges which later received the names of Witte and Roode Bergen, we “struck” a wide expanse of level, open country; through this a stream flowed in a northerly direction, along the left bank of which we trekked for a full week, not only for the sake of the water and the richer grass growing in the immediate vicinity of the stream, but also because if there was any game in the neighbourhood it was sure to be found within easy reach of the water. And here I got my first slice of luck, potting a brace of elephants, both of them magnificent tuskers, as well as another rhinoceros, three giraffes, and seven cock ostriches in perfect plumage. Then, crossing the Wilge River, and, two days later, the Klip River, we entered the country now known as the Transvaal, the Klip River being, as a matter of fact, the headwater of the Vaal.
And now I found myself in a very hunter’s paradise, for the country was literally swarming with game of almost every description, consisting of eland, gemsbok, springbok, reitbok, and antelope of all kinds, often in herds numbering several thousands; also that curious-looking beast the gnu, of which I now got my first glimpse; troops of quagga and zebra; giraffes, rhinoceroses, lions, leopards, and ostriches; hippopotami and crocodiles in the rivers; but still very few elephants, and those so shy that it was only with the utmost difficulty I succeeded in securing three within the first fortnight after crossing the Klip River. And during all this time, although I enjoyed some splendid hunting, I did not meet with a single adventure worthy of record, and met very few natives, while those whom I encountered were either very friendly disposed on the one hand, or, on the other, too shy to come near me. But I saw several very curious sights, one or two of which I may perhaps be excused for recording.
For instance, about a week after crossing the Klip River we found ourselves striking northward across a tract of practically level country, dotted here and there with herds of various kinds of game, which took but little notice of us beyond moving leisurely out of our way when we seemed to be approaching them rather too closely for their liking. Piet and I were, as usual, riding forward about a mile ahead of the wagon, on the lookout for ostriches or elephant spoor, when we sighted a troop of the great birds which we were seeking some two miles ahead of us, immediately in line with a range of those curious flat-topped hills which are such a distinctive feature of the South African landscape. Away to our left, about a quarter of a mile distant, was a small kopje, about two hundred feet high, consisting of an outcrop of rock the sides of which, although almost perpendicular, were so rough that I believed they might be easily climbed; and as the summit of the kopje promised to afford an excellent spying place from which to observe the movements of the ostriches, we turned our horses’ heads toward it and approached it at a gallop, reining up at its base. Upon arriving at the foot of the kopje I at once saw that it might be scaled without the slightest difficulty, for not only were the rocky projections so bold and rough as almost to amount to steps, but on the southern or shady side of the hill—which was the face that we approached—a multitude of tough, fern-like plants were sprouting from the interstices, affording excellent hold for the hands; therefore, dismounting and handing my horse’s bridle to Piet, and bidding him remain where he was, in the shadow of the rock, I took my rifle in one hand, and with the small but very powerful telescope which I always carried when out after game slung over my shoulder, proceeded to scale the kopje.
Reaching its summit without difficulty, I found, as I had expected, that my lofty perch afforded a magnificent outlook over the plain in every direction. The ostriches whose movements I particularly desired to watch were now in plain view, and with the aid of my telescope I could not only distinguish the cocks from the hens, but could also perceive that the plumage of the former was in the very pink of perfection. But, in addition to the ostriches, there were several other exceedingly interesting objects and sights clearly distinguishable from the summit of the kopje, of which no hint was obtainable from the level of the plain below.
For instance, upon removing the telescope from my eye, after an exhaustive study of the movements and behaviour of the great birds, I allowed my gaze to travel over the surface of the grassy plain immediately before me, and presently became aware of a solitary antelope, of a species which was quite new to me, grazing at a distance of some two hundred yards from the base of the kopje. The creature was about the size of a bushbok, was a dirty white in colour, and carried a pair of horns about two and a half feet in length, slightly curved, enormously thick at the base, strongly ridged for about half their length, and thence sweeping smoothly away to points as sharp apparently as those of bayonets. The most curious thing about it, however, was that its coat was long and thick, like that of a goat, but apparently very much finer and more silky; and I was speculating upon the possibility of capturing and domesticating a few specimens, with the view of testing the commercial value of the hair, when suddenly the animal ceased feeding, threw up its head, twitched its long ears nervously to and fro, and proceeded to sniff the air anxiously, turning its head hither and thither as it did so.
Finally it faced right round, almost broadside-on to me, and stood motionless, very erect, and with its body seemingly braced in readiness to bound away upon confirmation of its evident suspicion that an enemy was somewhere in its immediate neighbourhood. I knew that the suspected enemy could not possibly be myself, for I was dead to leeward of the animal, and I therefore proceeded to reconnoitre with the view of ascertaining whether danger was threatening it from some other quarter. And presently I became aware of certain suspicious-looking movements of the long grass, about a hundred yards distant, suggestive of the presence of an animal of some kind approaching the antelope cautiously along a sort of wavering, serpentine course. When I first discovered this movement the creature that caused it was at such a distance that it was completely concealed among the long grass, even from the elevation which I occupied; but a minute later I was able to catch occasional glimpses of a darkish grey body, thickly dotted with irregularly shaped spots of lighter grey, slinking toward the antelope, which still remained perfectly motionless and expectantly watchful. The course pursued by the approaching creature was such as gradually to bring it into full view from where I crouched on the summit of the kopje, and at length I made it out to be also an animal hitherto unknown to me, about the size of a half-grown leopard, and of very similar build and shape, except that its tail was only about a foot long, thick, and of uniform dimensions right to its extremity; its ears were tufted like those of a lynx, and indeed in general appearance it greatly resembled a lynx, excepting that it was very much larger.
It was very interesting to watch the progress of this little drama—was it a tragedy?—which was rapidly unfolding itself almost at my very feet, and I was curious to see what steps the threatened antelope would take to provide for its safety—for it was certain that the creature was fully conscious of the fact that danger threatened it. Why did it not seek safety in flight, as most creatures of the antelope species are wont to do? Or did some subtle instinct warn it that flight could but prolong its agony, and that the superior endurance of its approaching enemy would cause it to be run down and brought to bay sooner or later; and that its best chance lay in facing the danger now, before its strength should be worn out by a prolonged and exhausting flight? Apparently some such instinct or conviction must have possessed it, for the antelope remained standing motionless, as though carved out of stone, the only signs of life which it betrayed being a continuous quivering of its nostrils and an occasional slight twitching of its forward-pointing ears, while its enemy slunk sinuously toward it, foot by foot, like a cat stalking a bird. At length the would-be destroyer arrived within about twenty feet of its quarry—at which distance I suspected that each animal was able to obtain at least an occasional partial glimpse of the other—when it halted, and seemed to be gathering itself together for a sudden rush, while the antelope still stood as though rooted to the spot.
Why did not the latter take to its heels and run? I wondered. Was it that the creature was paralysed with terror, and so unable to make any effort to save itself? I thought not, for I could detect no sign of terror; all the indications were in favour of the conviction that while the antelope was undoubtedly fully aware of the close proximity of its enemy, and was alertly watchful for the next movement on the part of the latter, its attitude and aspect were in nowise suggestive of a feeling of dismay—on the contrary, the idea conveyed to me was that of reckless temerity. Yet surely the poor, misguided beast could never be so foolish as to imagine that it stood the slightest chance of victory in the event of a fight? I was not allowed very much time to ponder the question, for, after a pause of about half a dozen seconds, the lynx-like creature made a sudden lightning-like dash at the motionless antelope, which I fully expected to see go down instantly, with the formidable fangs of its enemy buried deep in its throat. Not so, however, for as the lithe, spotted form darted through the grass the antelope rose from the ground, as though shot into the air by a powerful spring, descending fair and square upon its enemy’s back, its four sharp-pointed hoofs digging viciously through the spotted hide and extorting a scream of mingled rage and pain from the astonished assailant; and then, so quickly that the eye could hardly follow the movement, a second vigorous leap landed the antelope fully twenty feet away, while the power expended in the leap sent the screaming, snarling enemy rolling and sprawling helplessly in the grass.
“Well done, antelope!” thought I. “Now is your chance to make a clean bolt for it, before your enemy has time to recover from his amazement.”