Chapter Fourteen.
The Blauw-Boks.
After all, the young yägers were not to be disappointed in a chase. If the fox of South Africa gives but poor sport, there are plenty of other animals, neither so weak-limbed nor short-winded; and one of this kind it was their fortune to fall in with on that same day, and almost within the hour.
On the other side of the mokhala grove from that on which the ostriches had been observed, lay a wide open plain. It was not a desert, although it approached so near to one,—separated from it only by a belt of timber. It was a prairie or natural meadow, the grass—perhaps from contrast with the broad brown expanse on the other side—having an extremely fresh green look.
It was a large plain, though not limitless to the view. In the distance could be seen a wood of the giraffe-acacia, or “cameel-doorns,” bounding the horizon; and several clumps of these trees, with their umbrella-like heads and feathery fronds of pale green, stood isolated upon the plain, giving the scene altogether an interesting aspect. A very park appeared this plain, with wide open pastures between its groves and coppices, many of which were of such regular forms that one would have fancied they had been planted to adorn it.
So lordly a park, such rich pastures, could not be untenanted; nor were they. There was no mansion, no house, not a trace of a human being to be seen, but for all that the plain had its denizens. Many forms could be distinguished upon or around it, both of winged and wingless creatures. Birds and quadrupeds of rare and beautiful kinds made this fair scene their home.
Over its greensward stalks the “secretary,” the true serpent-eater, hunting among the grass for his glittering prey. Even without using his wings, he need not fear any of the crouching carnivora, as his long legs suffice to carry him far beyond reach of either hyena, jackal, wild dog, guepard, or leopard. Swift is he, almost as the great ostrich itself,—so swift as to have earned from the Arabs the singular sobriquet of the “Devil’s horse.”
Not far off another tall bird stands erect upon the plain, but of very different character and habits. This is the “pauw” or “wild peacock,”—a peacock only in the phraseology of the boors, for the bird is a bustard, and the largest of his tribe—the Otis kori.
Running from copse to copse, or feeding over the plain, may be seen flocks of the pearly guinea-fowl, (Numida meleagris), whose constant chattering grates harshly on the ear, resembling the metallic clanking of machinery, or the sharpening of a hundred saws.
From tree to tree flutter gaudy parrots, green pigeons, and soft cooing doves, and over flowery shrubs flit numerous species of tiny “honey-suckers,”—the African representatives of the humming-birds. Some trees carry the pensile nests of the weaver-bird, (Ploceus), hanging from their branches like large fruits, while many of the cameel-doorns are loaded with the vast thatch-like republican dwellings of the sociable grosbeak, (Loxia socia).