Through Veld and Forest: An African Story

by Harry Collingwood

But not a bit of it; evidently the very last thing that the antelope contemplated was flight, for no sooner did its hoofs touch the earth than it swung round like lightning, facing toward its adversary, while the latter picked itself up and, with four little streams of blood trickling down its sides, proceeded afresh to the attack. Again it crept up to within a short distance of the waiting antelope, paused, and suddenly dashed in; and again the antelope leaped into the air, alighted upon its enemy’s back, inflicting four fresh wounds with its stabbing hoofs, and sprang away, spurning the snarling foe with such violence that once more it was sent sprawling in the grass.

This performance was repeated some eight or ten times, until at length it became quite evident that the antelope was getting very much the better of the fight, for thus far it had not received a single scratch, while its enemy’s back was punctured all over with wounds that, although none of them were very deep, were bleeding freely, and in the aggregate were probably very painful. It was clear that matters were fast nearing the point at which the grey-spotted beast would be more than willing to regard the fight as a drawn battle, for every bout left it less willing to continue the fight; but the plucky little antelope evidently disapproved of half-measures, and was determined to press the matter to a definite conclusion, for when his antagonist began to betray a disinclination to continue the fight he no longer waited for the onset, but boldly advanced, leaping hither and thither with astounding rapidity, each leap landing him nearer his enemy, until the latter was compelled, in self-defence, to continue. But at length a moment arrived when the feline lay moaning and snarling, covered with blood, and either unable or unwilling to continue the combat; and then the antelope, after approaching the enemy by the usual bewildering series of leaps and bounds, stood for several seconds meditatively regarding him.

Finally, the plucky little beast seemed to come to the conclusion that the decisive moment had arrived, for, suddenly placing his head between his fore legs, so that his long, powerful horns pointed straight at his opponent’s body, he hurled himself violently forward, like a bolt shot from a catapult; the sharp, bayonet-like horns buried themselves deeply in the grey-spotted, blood-smeared body; and as a prolonged yell of agony rent the air the antelope turned a complete somersault over his antagonist and staggered to his feet, bewildered but unhurt, the force with which the final stroke had been delivered having been so tremendous that the horns had disengaged themselves by the simple process of tearing two ghastly slashes in the fearfully lacerated carcass of the now defunct enemy. Then, after satisfying himself, by sight and smell, that nothing further was to be feared from his victim, the conqueror bent his head and resumed his grazing as calmly as though nothing had happened.

The extraordinary combat took some twenty minutes to reach its unexpected conclusion, and then, there being nothing to detain me any longer on the summit of the slope, I descended, rejoined Piet where he was patiently awaiting me within the shadow of the rock, remounted, and rode forward, our appearance at once putting the plucky little victor to precipitate flight. I had a mind to secure the skin of the conquered lynx-like creature, not only as a curiosity and an interesting memento of a rather remarkable occurrence, but also because of its interest to the zoologists upon my return to civilisation; but when we presently found the carcass it proved to be so terribly mauled that I saw it would be impossible to remove the pelt otherwise than in fragments, and so abandoned the idea. But we went after the ostriches, and succeeded in securing the two full-grown cocks of the troop, with the result that I became the richer by about ten pounds’ worth of the most magnificent plumes I had ever seen.

A few days later, our route at the time lying through hilly country, it became a question whether we should enter a long ravine which divided a range of hills ahead, trusting to the possibility of our being able to pass through it and emerge at the other end, or whether it would be necessary to make a rather wide détour round one or the other extremity of the range. The route through the ravine would suit us best from every point of view, provided that it did not prove to be a cul de sac, because it led straight in the desired direction, and appeared to be tolerably level, also it would probably save us nearly forty miles; therefore I ordered Jan to outspan upon his arrival at the mouth of the ravine, while Piet and I rode on ahead to reconnoitre, taking our rifles with us, as usual, as well as the two dogs, Thunder and Juno.

The range of hills lying in front of us was about twenty miles in length, running almost due east and west, and the ravine which it was my purpose to explore pierced it as nearly as might be in its middle, running practically north and south; and even at the first glance I was impressed by the remarkable character of the place. For the ravine irresistibly suggested the idea that at some time in the more or less remote past a giant had taken a shovel measuring about a quarter of a mile in width, and with this gigantic tool had cut a gap right through the range. The most singular feature of the case, however, was that, although the gap was undoubtedly there, and although a vast quantity of material must have been removed in order to create it, there was nothing whatever to show what had become of that material. The floor of the gap was quite smooth and level, unencumbered by boulders or débris of any kind, and its rocky sides were absolutely vertical, rising in the centre to a height of very nearly three thousand feet, which height they maintained for about half a mile before they started to dip toward the far end. Small patches of wait-a-bit and other thorn bushes sparsely dotted the floor of the ravine, or gorge, and about halfway through there was a little grove of mimosa, in the midst of which we caught fleeting, indistinct glimpses of certain moving things which Piet declared were giraffes.

Now, I had not yet shot a giraffe, and was rather anxious to obtain a really good—or it would be nearer the truth to say an exceptionally fine—specimen; therefore, hastily taking cover behind the nearest clump of bush, we proceeded to approach the creatures warily until we had arrived within about half a mile of them. Then, detecting certain signs of growing uneasiness among them, which I attributed to the possibility of their having sighted our moving figures, I dismounted, and, leaving Piet with the dogs and horses well sheltered behind a big clump of bush, took my rifle and set off to complete the stalk through the long grass alone and on foot. I reckoned upon being able to manage this without very much difficulty, for the wind was blowing from the west right across the ravine, while the giraffes were upon the eastern side, and I was to the southward of them; therefore I knew that I ought to be able to get quite close to them before they could wind me, while the grass was tall enough to enable me to approach them unseen. Nevertheless, although I was stalking them with the utmost caution, using the wind to guide me, and only raising my head to reconnoitre at rare intervals and with the exercise of the greatest care, I was annoyed to observe that the uneasiness of my quarries was rapidly increasing; they had ceased to feed, and were standing at attention, with their ears switching quickly to and fro and their heads continually turning this way and that, as though they scented danger of some sort but could not determine its character or, more important still, from which direction it was coming: and I began to fear that before I could get near enough to put in a decisive shot they would stampede and I should lose them altogether. And, sure enough, that was precisely what they did, a great bull giraffe, evidently the leader of the herd, and the animal which I had finally fixed upon as my own particular prey, suddenly tossing up his head and breaking away up the valley in a long, lumbering, ungainly canter, instantly followed by the rest of the herd.

I was not only intensely annoyed but also greatly puzzled at this behaviour on the part of the great, long-legged, long-necked creatures, for I could not believe that the flight had been the result of any carelessness on my part; but while I stood watching them rapidly increasing the distance between themselves and me I became aware of a curious dimming of the atmosphere along the top edge of the cliffs on the western side of the ravine, and while I was still wondering what this might be, a low, murmurous, rumbling sound gradually evolved itself out of the faint sigh of the breeze over the grass and through the foliage of the bush—a sound which, as I listened, rapidly developed into the beat of innumerable hoofs, mingled with the bleatings and barkings of a veritable army of bucks of various descriptions. Then I knew that the dimming of the atmosphere along the summit of the western cliffs was due to a cloud of light, impalpable dust, swept along before a great migrating army of game crossing the mountain range, probably on the march in search of water, and I waited to see what would happen when the vanguard of the army should reach the edge of the cliffs.

I had not very long to wait; the dust cloud rapidly thickened, and the low rumbling beat of hoofs on the hard dry soil of the hill crest quickly increased in volume until it became like the thunderous roar of surf upon a rock-bound shore, mingled with the continuous cries of a countless host of animals all herded together under the influence of some mysterious but powerful influence. And presently the advance guard of the great army appeared against the skyline on the edge of the beetling cliffs, almost immediately opposite where I was standing; first a solitary eland, then three gemsbok, closely followed by seven or eight hartebeeste, then a small troop of quagga, upon the heels of which came a herd of some fifty klipspringers. All these advanced right up to the edge of the cliff, halted abruptly, staring down into the ravine below, and then, wheeling sharply to right and left, threw up their heads and, with characteristic cries of dismay, took to their heels and galloped furiously along the very edge of the cliff, in an evident effort to escape the pressure of the great army in their rear. But as these first arrivals wheeled and sped, terrified, to right and left, others appeared in increasing numbers and, suddenly realising their danger, sought to escape it, some following in the footsteps of the vanguard, while others faced about and strove to retreat along the way by which they had come.

It soon became evident, however, that escape was impossible, for even as I stood watching their efforts the front rank of the main body appeared, a great compact mass of animals extending fully half a mile along the edge of the cliff; and although it was evident that this front rank now realised that danger threatened it in front, and was trying to hang back, the pressure of the vast multitude in its rear was irresistible, and foot by foot it was pushed forward until in a few seconds I was gazing at the awful spectacle of hundreds of helpless animals being thrust over the cliff edge and falling to their death more than two thousand feet below, while the air throbbed and vibrated with their cries of terror. It was a terrible experience to stand there and helplessly watch those unfortunate creatures pouring over the cliff like the waters of a cataract, to listen to their cries as they found themselves being irresistibly thrust forward to their death, and to see the long and rapidly growing pile of the dead stretching along the foot of the cliffs.