But never to go out of it again alive, on his own legs. Scarce had he wetted his huge hooves, when he was saluted by a fusillade from the opposite side that not only tumbled himself over, but five or six of his fellows following immediately behind, some of them wounded, some killed outright. The rest of the herd took instant affright and wheeling round, went off in wild rush, no longer aligned, but in scattered confusion, breaking through the bushes in every direction.
When the waggons were again drawn back upon track, and moved off inland, in addition to their usual loading, they carried several hundred pounds weight of valuable ivory.
Note 1. The “dissel-boom” of a waggon is the pole to which the hind oxen are attached, the others in front drawing by the trek-touw.
Chapter Fifteen.
A Camp full of Carcasses.
Another encampment of the Vee-Boers, their three waggons as before, forming its substantial centre. In almost everything else it is different from that under the baobab, being situated in a kloof (Note 1) between two rocky ridges, which, trending towards one another, meet and form a sort of cul-de-sac. The valley’s bottom is of some breadth, grass—covered but treeless, save some stunted bushes scattered thinly over it, with here and there a tall camel-thorn, from which hang the purse-like pensile nests of a colony of weaver birds. The ridges are of basalt, and along their slopes lie huge boulders, some square-shaped and big as houses; other similar blocks being strewn about on the level below. Just over the camp, and shadowing it from the sun, is a high kop (Note 2), on whose ledges cling aloes, euphorbias, and other plants, characteristic of desert vegetation; for all is barrenness, above and around, the bottom land alone showing any sign of fertility. This last is due to a spring, which, issuing from the cliff’s base, trickles down the valley, to be caught in a little pool, some hundred paces below. Being a permanent fontein, it afforded sufficient water for all the animals when they wanted it. But few of them want it now; most being dead, whilst those that survive are in death’s throes, without hope of recovery. The fatal work begun by the tulp, is being finished by the tsetse; good as finished already—and the migrating graziers will soon be without stock of any kind, horse, ox, or cow. Even their dogs are dead or dying.
This wholesale fatality, as they have since ascertained, was brought about by the buffaloes; some of the people, sent back to the river higher up, having there found no signs of the venomous insect. They had gone with a view to continuing the journey; but before a fresh start could be made, the too well-known symptoms of tsetse-sickness had declared themselves, and all thoughts of treking further were relinquished.