The Young Yagers: A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa

by Mayne Reid

It was still early when the party arrived in this delightful spot; but so pleased were all of them with the scene around that they determined to halt before the usual hour and encamp there for the night.

So, choosing a pretty grove of willow-leafed “olean-wood” trees, that stood near the bank of the river, they outspanned under their shade.

As they were wearied by their exertions in getting the oxen over some rocky ridges, all lay down to rest under the cool shadow of the olean-woods; and several of the boys went to sleep, lulled by the sweet voices of the birds, the humming of wild bees, and the rushing sound of the water as it passed over some rapids below.

Klaas and Jan, however, had not gone to sleep with the rest, for neither had laid their shoulders to the wagon-wheels, and were, therefore, no more tired than usual. Besides, there was something nigh at hand that would have kept both awake, even had they been a good deal fatigued, and that was the appearance of a pair of very odd-looking birds out upon the plain, at no great distance from the wagons, and that every now and then raised their black top-knots above the grass and uttered a cry something like the croak of a raven.

These birds were not so very large—about the size of common fowls—but they were game-birds, having flesh of excellent flavour, and this rendered them interesting at the moment. They were, also, of very elegant forms—something of the tall majestic shape of the bustards. In fact, they were of a species that forms a sort of link between the bustards and grouse families; and are known in South Africa as “koorhaans,” and in India by the name of “floricans.”

But it was nothing of all this that rendered them so interesting to Klaas and Jan. It was that the latter knew a very curious method of capturing these very birds, and he was in a perfect fever to put it in practice right before the eyes of the rival bird-boy Klaas. In fact, ever since the day that Klaas had so distinguished himself by knocking over the klipspringer, Jan had been burning for an opportunity to perform some feat of equal pretensions, but none had turned up. Now that these birds—old acquaintances of Jan’s they were—had made their appearance, he saw a fair chance of gaining some renown. He would show Klaas how to catch koorhaans in a proper manner—that he would. So said Jan.

Jan was not long in having his triumph, which he obtained in the following manner.

He first pulled some long hair from the tail of his pony, which he twisted into a large stout snare. He next proceeded to Swartboy, and borrowed from the Bushman his whip, or rather the handle of the whip—for Swartboy took off the lash to accommodate him. It must be here remembered that Jan and Swartboy were great allies, and had been so for a long time; and it was in reality Swartboy who had taught Jan the curious mode he was about to practise upon the koorhaans. It must also be remembered that the handle of Swartboy’s whip was an immense affair—a bamboo cane, full eighteen feet in length, and more like a fishing-rod than a whip-handle.

Well, upon the end of this, where the lash had been tied, Jan adjusted his snare; and then, mounting his pony, rode forth upon the plain.

Klaas stood watching him; and upon Klaas’s countenance there was a puzzled expression that Jan did not fail to notice, and that delighted him exceedingly.