COOKING ELEPHANT’S FOOT.
(See [page 132].)
Two more Kaffirs are shown in the act of rolling the huge foot to the oven, and strips of the elephant’s flesh are seen suspended from the boughs in order to be converted into “biltongue.” It is a rather remarkable fact that this simple process of cutting the meat into strips and drying it in the air has the effect of rendering several unsavory meats quite palatable, taking away the powerful odors which deter even a Kaffir, and much more a white man, from eating them in a fresh state.
In the extreme distance is seen the nearly demolished body of the elephant, at which a couple of Kaffirs are still at work. It may here be mentioned that after an elephant is killed, the Kaffirs take very great pains about making the first incision into the body. The carcass of the slain animal generally remains on the ground for an hour or two until the orders of the chief can be received; and even in that brief space of time the hot African sun produces a partial decomposition, and causes the body of the animal to swell by reason of the quantity of gas which is generated. The Kaffir who takes upon himself the onerous task of making the first incision chooses his sharpest and weightiest assagai, marks the direction of the wind, selects the best spot for the operation, and looks carefully round to see that the coast is clear. Having made all his preparations, he hurls his weapon deeply into the body of the elephant, and simultaneously leaps aside to avoid the result of the stroke, the enclosed gas escaping with a loud report, and pouring out in volumes of such singularly offensive odor that even the nostrils of a Kaffir are not proof against it.
I have more than once witnessed a somewhat similar scene when engaged in the pursuit of comparative anatomy, the worst example being that of a lion which had been dead some three or four weeks, and which was, in consequence, swollen out of all shape. We fastened tightly all the windows which looked upon the yard in which the body of the animal was lying, and held the door ready to be closed at a moment’s notice. The adventurous operator armed himself with a knife and a lighted pipe, leaned well to the opposite side of the animal, delivered his stab, and darted back to the door, which was instantly closed. The result of the operation was very much like that which has been mentioned when performed on the elephant, though on a smaller scale, and in a minute or so the lion was reduced to its ordinary size.
Sometimes a great number of hunters unite for the purpose of assailing one of the vast herds of animals which have already been mentioned. In this instance, they do not resort to the pitfall, but attack the animals with their spears. In order to do so effectually, they divide themselves into two parties, one of which, consisting chiefly of the younger men, and led by one or two of the old and experienced hunters, sets off toward the herd, while the others, armed with a large supply of assagais and kerries, proceed to one of the narrow and steep-sided ravines which are so common in Southern Africa. (See [engraving No. 2], p. 121.)
The former party proceed very cautiously, availing themselves of every cover, and being very careful to manœuvre so as to keep on the leeward side of the herd, until they have fairly placed the animals between themselves and the ravine. Meanwhile, sentries are detached at intervals, whose duty it is to form a kind of lane toward the ravine, and to prevent the herd from taking a wrong course. When all the arrangements are completed, the hunters boldly show themselves in the rear of the animals, who immediately move forward in a body—not very fast at first, because they are not quite sure whether they are going to be attacked. As they move along, the sentinels show themselves at either side, so as to direct them toward the ravine; and when the van of the herd has entered, the remainder are sure to follow.
Then comes a most animated and stirring scene. Knowing that when the leaders of the herd have entered the ravine, the rest are sure to follow, the driving party rushes forward with loud yells, beating their shields, and terrifying the animals to such a degree that they dash madly forward in a mixed concourse of antelopes, quaggas, giraffes, and often a stray ostrich or two. Thick and fast the assagais rain upon the affrighted animals as they try to rush out of the ravine, but when they reach the end they find their exit barred by a strong party of hunters, who drive them back with shouts and spears. Some of them charge boldly at the hunters, and make their escape, while others rush back again through the kloof, hoping to escape by the same way as they had entered. This entrance is, however, guarded by the driving party, and so the wretched animals are sent backward and forward along this deadly path until the weapons of their assailants are exhausted, and the survivors are allowed to escape.
These “kloofs” form as characteristic features of Southern Africa as do the table mountains. They have been well defined as the re-entering elbows or fissures in a range of hills; and it is a remarkable fact that the kloof is mostly clothed with thick bush, whatever may be the character of the surrounding country. In Colonel E. Napier’s “Excursions in Southern Africa,” there is so admirable a description of the kloof and the bush that it must be given in the language of the writer, who has drawn a most perfect word-picture of South African scenery:—
“The character of the South African ‘bush’ has features quite peculiar in itself, and sometimes unites—while strongly contrasting—the grand and sublime with the grotesque and ridiculous. When seen afar from a commanding elevation—the undulating sea of verdure extending for miles and miles, with a bright sun shining on a green, compact, unbroken surface—it conveys to the mind of a spectator naught save images of repose, peace, and tranquillity. He forgets that, like the hectic bloom of a fatal malady, these smiling seas of verdure often in their entangled depths conceal treacherous, death-dealing reptiles, ferocious beasts of prey, and the still more dangerous, though no less crafty, and more cruel Kaffir.