Le Vaillant, who had a partiality for adventure, was here engaged in one which I must describe at some length. Leaving the greater number of his people encamped on the banks of the Elephant River, he had descended with a small detachment to the seashore. Here a whale was found, from which the Hottentots drew several skins of oil. The traveller, having been disappointed in his expectations of meeting with elephants on the right bank of the stream, concluded, with some degree of probability, that they had crossed the river, and taken refuge on the opposite side: he was therefore desirous of following them. But he was near the mouth of the river, which, at all times wide and rapid, had been exceedingly increased by the late rains, and now presented a formidable appearance. Unhappily, he was incapable of swimming, and for constructing a raft there was no time. After much consideration, therefore, it was resolved to attempt the stream in a novel mode. The trunk of a fallen tree was selected; the tent, with the garments of the Hottentots, was fastened upon its centre, the oil-skins at each end; while Le Vaillant himself, having suspended his watch and powder-flasks about his neck, and tied all their fowling-pieces on his shoulders, got astride upon the tree as soon as it was afloat. The Hottentots, having fastened strips of leather to the end of the trunk, then jumped into the water, and pushed off from the shore. They were four in number, and it was agreed that two should tow the tree along, while the other two pushed it forward from behind, taking these different offices in turn. As long as they remained in smooth water their progress was rapid. Nothing could appear more easy than their undertaking. They laughed, they jested with each other, and already thought themselves on the opposite shore. But their triumph was premature: for they had no sooner entered the current than the tree became unmanageable; now pitching forward upon the swimmers, now recoiling with invincible force against those who laboured to impel it from behind; dragging the former after it, submerging the latter in the waves. No jests were now heard. Every limb was plied, every nerve strained, to force a way through the impetuous current; every man exerted himself to the utmost; but the river rushed along with irresistible violence, and instead of making way towards the shore, they saw themselves hurried down by the stream towards the sea, where inevitable death awaited them. Meanwhile Le Vaillant perceived with dismay that their strength began to fail them. They breathed short, their strokes became irregular, their efforts grew fainter and fainter; yet they tugged desperately at the tree, apparently resolved at least to perish at their posts, and to share the fate of him whom they could not save. Still they drew nearer and nearer to the sea, and their hopes diminished in proportion. Observing this, the two men who had been placed in the rear sprang forward, and by their united strength endeavoured to force along the trunk. At length Le Vaillant thought he perceived a diminution in the violence of the current, and this discovery being communicated to the swimmers, they redoubled their efforts, and in a few minutes one of them found that he could touch the bottom. This he announced by a loud cry of joy, which was re-echoed by the others. They now began to recover their tranquillity, and pushing forward with vigour, were quickly landed on the shore. Here they joyously kindled an immense fire, and having along with them a small quantity of brandy, they drank it, dried themselves, and next day departed on their return to the camp.
Here fresh troubles awaited the traveller. His oxen were dying of hunger and fatigue; his followers were discouraged; even his own resolution was shaken. But the shame of succumbing to surmountable difficulties,—of entertaining a base fear of dangers which other men had braved,—of returning, in fact, baffled and defeated to the Cape, urged him forward, and he accordingly struck his tents, and moved once more towards the north. Courage and intrepidity are of vast importance in every circumstance of life, in none more so than in the circumstances in which an African traveller is placed; but these virtues will not draw wagons, or silence the murmurs of the appetite when clamouring for food. Le Vaillant was prepared to endure, and he cheerfully abandoned his chariots in the desert when oxen were wanting to drag them along; but he abandoned at the same time much of that merchandise with which he was accustomed to purchase the friendship and aid of the savage, and from that moment all rational hope of traversing the whole continent, from the Cape of Good Hope to the Mediterranean, vanished. He continued his journey, however, from the laudable desire of performing what he could, though what he had projected might prove impracticable.
Le Vaillant’s difficulties were far from being imaginary. Thirst, that most maddening of human privations, was now felt once more, and the parched herbage afforded neither nourishment nor cooling juices to the cattle. All their hopes now centred in those thunderstorms which, at certain seasons of the year, are common in southern Africa, and the jocular extravagance of Aristophanes, who represents men as cloud-worshippers, was now scarcely an exaggeration: for both our traveller and his followers almost bowed down in religious adoration to every cloud that sailed aloft in the blue firmament, and seemed to announce a tempest. At length vast masses of black vapour began to gather together in heaps over their heads, and to spread in sombre files along the sky. Flashes of lightning were perceived on the edge of the horizon; and all the forerunners of a storm successively presented themselves to their delighted senses.
It came at length. “I heard,” says the traveller, “the sound of some large drops, the happy precursors of an abundant shower. All my senses, dilated at once by joy and gladness, unfolded themselves to the vital influence. I crept out from under my covering, and lying down on my back, with my mouth open, I received with delight the drops which chanced to fall on me, every one of which seemed to be a refreshing balm to my parched lips and tongue. I repeat it, the purest pleasure of my whole life was what I tasted in that delicious moment, which had been purchased by so many sighs and hours of anguish. It was not long before the shower poured down from all sides; during three hours it fell in torrents, seeming in noise to rival the thunder, which all the while continued roaring over our heads. My people ran about in all directions through the storm, seeking for one another, with triumphant mutual congratulations for the drenching they experienced; for they felt themselves revived; and appeared as if desirous of inflating their bodies that they might thus offer a larger surface to the rain, and imbibe a greater quantity of it. For my own part, I enjoyed so delicious a pleasure in soaking myself like them, that, in order the longer to preserve the refreshing coolness, I would not at first change my dress, which I was at length, however, compelled to do by the cold.”
On the following night one of his followers disappeared, a circumstance which, as they were now in the country of the Bushmen, to whom it was possible the fugitive might betray them, was a source of peculiar uneasiness. However, after causing considerable alarm among the whole party, each of whom indulged a different conjecture, the man returned, announcing the discovery of a Hottentot kraal at no great distance. Towards this spot the whole party immediately proceeded, again and again quenching their thirst on the way, in reservoirs of crystal purity, which had been formed in the hollows of the rocks by the recent storm. Arrived, Le Vaillant found that the horde of which they had come in search was fortunately that of a man to whom he had been strongly recommended by a friend at the Cape. He was received with hospitality. The chief, flattered by the visit, undertook for a time to become his guide; and having generously and successfully exerted himself for the recovery of the chariots abandoned in the desert, and performed numerous other kind offices for his guest, the caravan was once more put in motion.
In the evening, on their arriving at the halting-place, Le Vaillant observed with surprise a tent, guarded by Hottentots, pitched a little in advance of him; and upon inquiry, found that it belonged to a M. Pinard, one of the individuals he had rejected at Cape Town. A presentiment of evil immediately flashed upon his mind. He regarded the tent with inquietude. Misfortune seemed to perch upon its summit. And in the sequel he learned, with vexation, how well-founded his apprehensions had been. However, for the moment, the encounter seemed to offer nothing but pleasure. Pinard was the bearer of letters from some of his dearest friends, and to a man of sound feelings a person thus armed is irresistible; but to an evil disposition the very counterfeiting of goodness is too painful long to be endured. Our Dutch adventurer, whose wealth chiefly consisted in brandy, a commodity which experience had taught him was omnipotent with Hottentots, seemed to consider his casks as too weighty, and habitually exerted himself in diminishing the burden. In one word, he was a drunkard; and having indulged himself with an extraordinary dose on the very evening of Le Vaillant’s arrival, the brandy-casks were abandoned to the Hottentots, and in a short time both camps were a scene of wild revelry and intoxication.
To those who have observed the manners of savages, whether in our own country or in the woods, it must be well known that the Circean transformations are not fabulous. Brandy has everywhere the power of changing men into beasts, and into beasts which are the more dangerous, inasmuch as they retain, under their new forms, a memory morbidly retentive, which seems to rejoice at its escape from the restraints of reason. Le Vaillant’s followers, having nothing to fear from the reproaches of decorum, now plunged into the delights of drunkenness with an avidity which appeared as if intended as an imputation on his want of generosity; for they considered his prudent economy as a niggardly doling out of a necessary of life, brandy being by them regarded in that light. Though he had given orders that the caravan should be put in motion at the break of day, the men, with the exception of Klaas and two or three of his companions, were all furiously intoxicated before the oxen could be yoked to the wagons. Even old Swanspoel, who had hitherto conducted himself with prudence, yielded to the seduction, and endeavouring with reeling steps to mount the wagon, his foot slipped, and he rolled under the wheel, which immediately passed over his body. Le Vaillant, who loved the old man, feared he had been crushed to pieces; but it was afterward found, upon examination, that he merely had two ribs broken; though this fracture caused him such terrible anguish on the road, that he conjured his master, with clasped hands, to blow out his brains with one of his pistols. As our traveller was utterly ignorant of surgery, it was necessary to leave the treatment of the fracture to nature. The pain, meanwhile, was excruciating, and in order to blunt its point, the old Hottentot continued to drink immoderate quantities of brandy, which, as it failed to kill him, obtained, in the sequel, the honour of a cure. In six weeks he was able to resume his occupations.
At length, after enduring his company with a patience which it were easier to praise than to imitate, he separated from Pinard. He now discovered another remarkable person, a sailor, who, having deserted from the Dutch navy, had retired into the wilderness, where he had adopted, as far as possible, the manners of a savage; married several wives, by whom he had numerous children, and laid the foundation of what might have proved a powerful horde. But this individual affords an example of how difficult it is for the civilized man, of whatever rank he may be, to retrograde; for, although possessed of considerable wealth, and, which is still sweeter, of independence, and the germs of power, he yearned after that society in which he must always be as nothing; and afterward, upon Le Vaillant’s obtaining him his pardon, deserted his harem, returned with his children to the colony, married, and sunk into the dull lethargy of ordinary Dutch life.
This man, whose name was Shoenmaker, became our traveller’s guide through the neighbouring regions. They continued still to advance towards the north, passed through the countries of the Lesser and Greater Namaquas, and arrived at length in the district in which the giraffe is found. Here all his ardour for the chase was at once revived by the sight of one of these animals’ skins, which, in one of the kraals he visited, served as a covering to a hut. A few days afterward, while he was admiring the nest of the constructor bird, one of his Namaqua guides came in great haste to inform him that he had just seen a giraffe browsing upon the leaves of a mimosa-tree. “In an instant,” says the traveller, “I mounted my horse, being intoxicated with joy, and causing Bernfry” (a deserter from the colony whom he encountered in the desert) “to follow my example, I hurried with my dogs towards the mimosa-tree. The giraffe was no longer there. We saw her crossing the plain towards the west, and put spurs to our horses in order to overtake her. She then got into an easy trot, but did not seem at all hurried. We galloped after her, firing at her from time to time; but she insensibly gained ground upon us in such a manner that, after continuing the chase for three hours, we were compelled to stop, our horses being out of breath, and we immediately lost sight of her.” He now found himself alone, at a distance from his camp; and, what was worse, knew not how to shape his course towards it. Meantime he suffered considerably from thirst and hunger; but having killed and cooked some birds, his wants were soon satisfied, and he had leisure for reflection. In the midst of his reveries he was found by some of his attendants, and conducted back to the camp. Next day the hunting of the giraffe was continued with equally bad success. On the third day seven of these animals were discovered, and immediately pursued by his dogs. “Six of them,” says he, “went off together; but the seventh, cut off by my pack, took a different direction. Bernfry, who happened just then to be on foot, immediately vaulted into the saddle, and set off in pursuit of the former. I pursued the latter at all speed; but in spite of the swiftness of my horse, she gained upon me so much that, on turning a small eminence, I lost sight of her, and gave up the chase. My dogs, however, had quickly overtaken her, and pressed her so closely that she was compelled to stop in her own defence. From the place where I was I heard them give tongue with all their might; but as their voices all appeared to come from the same spot, I conjectured that they had got the animal into some corner, and I again pushed forwards. As soon as I had turned the hill, I in fact discovered her surrounded by the dogs, and making desperate efforts to drive them off by heavy kicks. In a moment I was on my feet, and a single shot from my carbine brought her to the earth. Enchanted with my victory, I returned to call my people about me, that they might skin and cut up the animal. As I was looking about, I observed Klaas Bastard eagerly making signals to me, which I could not at first comprehend; but on turning towards the direction in which he pointed, I perceived a giraffe assailed by my dogs under an ebony-tree. Supposing it to be another animal, I ran towards it; but it was the same, which had risen again, and just as I was about to fire a second time dropped down dead.
“Who could have believed that a conquest like this would have excited me to a transport almost approaching to madness! Pains, fatigues, cruel privations, uncertainty as to the future, disgust sometimes as to the past—all these recollections and feelings fled at the sight of this new prey. I could not satisfy my desire to contemplate it. I measured its enormous height. I looked from the animal to the instrument which had destroyed it. I called and recalled my people about me. Although we had combated together the largest and the most dangerous animals, it was I alone who had killed the giraffe. I was now able to add to the riches of natural history; I was now able to destroy the romance which attached to this animal, and to establish a truth. My people congratulated me on my triumph. Bernfry alone was absent; but he came at last, walking at a slow pace, and holding his horse by the bridle. He had fallen from his seat, and injured his shoulder. I heard not what he said to me. I saw not that he wanted assistance; I spoke to him only of my victory. He showed me his shoulder; I showed him my giraffe. I was intoxicated, and I should not have thought even of my own wounds.”