Not far from these, and occasionally mixing among them, was a drove of larger animals, whose singular colour and markings could not be mistaken. They were dauws, or, in the clumsy language of the closet naturalists, “Burchell’s zebras,” (Equus Burchellii). It has been already stated that this species differs from the true zebra in several respects. Its ground colour is light sienna, while that of the zebra is nearly white. The stripes upon the former are dark brown, while those of the latter are pure black; but the most characteristic difference in the markings is, that in the true zebra the stripes continue in rings down the legs to the very hoofs, while in the dauw the legs are white. The ears and tail of the zebra are more asinine than those of the dauw, while the tail of the latter is much the longer, as indeed is the body of the animal.
Both are beautiful creatures—perhaps the most beautiful quadrupeds in the world—a fine horse always excepted. But in point of beauty the true zebra certainly excels the “Burchell.” They are very different in their habits—the zebra being a mountain-dwelling animal, while the dauw is strictly a denizen of the open plains, in places similar to those frequented by the quagga. Although it never herds with the latter, in habits it resembles their species more than it does the zebra. Observation of this fact by the boor hunters has led to the name among these people of “bonte quagga,” (painted quagga.)
The third kind of animals upon the plain was a very remarkable species; so odd in form and movements were they, that no one who had once seen either them, or a picture of them, could afterwards fail to recognise them. The young yägers had never set eyes upon them before, but they had all seen a kindred species, which, except in colour and a few minor details, is very like them. They had all seen the “wildebeest” or “gnoo,” and this enabled them at once to recognise the “blauw-wildebeest,” or “brindled gnoo,” for such they were.
They differ from the common wildebeest in being larger, somewhat heavier in form, scarcely so well shaped about the head and neck—the latter not curving as in the common species—more shaggy in the mane, the nose-tuft, and the long hair on the throat and breast. In colour they are quite different, being of a dirty bluish tint, variegated with irregular stripes, or “brindles.” Hence their trivial names of “blauw” wildebeest and “brindled” gnoo.
The two kinds, “gnoo” and “brindled gnoo,” are never found on the same plains; but give place to each other. The range of the latter species extends farthest to the north. They are scarcely ever found alone, but generally accompanied by droves of the dauw; (Burchell’s zebra or bonte quagga); and, what is a singular fact, the common species is rarely seen, except in company with the common quagga. Although neither of these keep company with their own congeners they yet live socially with one another, both also herding at times with springboks, hartebeests, and ostriches. A singular and interesting sight it is to see the gnoos, antelopes, and wild asses, curveting and galloping over the plain, now wheeling in circles, now halting in line, anon charging from point to point, like troops of cavalry in a review, while the ostriches stalk about or stand motionless, their tall forms rising high above the rest, as if they were the officers and generals-in-chief of the spectacle! Such a picture is often presented upon the karoo plains of Southern Africa.
As soon as the young yägers came in sight of the plain, they pulled up their horses, and sat for some moments regarding the lively scene that was exhibited upon its surface. The springboks were browsing, though some individuals were constantly in the air bounding up as if for their own amusement. The dauws were trooping about, sometimes halting, and sometimes galloping from point to point, as if in play or alarmed by some intruder. The brindled gnoos, that is the cows, were browsing in a herd of thirty or forty in number, while the bulls stood around in small groups of three or four individuals, not moving, but apparently keeping a solemn watch over the others, every now and then snorting loudly, and uttering a sharp and peculiar cry, as if intended for some voice of warning or instruction. For hours the old bulls will hold this position, keeping apart from the rest, each little knot of them apparently conversing among themselves, while acting as sentries to the general herd of dauws, antelopes, and their own wives.
After a few minutes’ deliberation, the hunters agreed to make their attack upon the herd of gnoos. They formed no plan. Stalking would be of little use, as they believed they would be able to ride down the wildebeest, and get a running shot; and it was to these they designed to give all their attention. The dauws—beautiful creatures as they were—were of no use as game, and it was game the party wanted. The springboks did not interest them; but the flesh of the wildebeest would have been a treat to all. It is excellent eating, resembling beef rather than venison—for the gnoo is in reality more of an ox than an antelope.
“Roast beef for dinner!” was the word given by Hendrik, and all the rest echoing this, they charged down upon the wildebeest herd.
They made no attempt at concealing their approach, but dashed directly forward upon the game, the buck-dogs—now only five in number—in the advance, with Hendrik’s favourite heading.
In an instant the herds upon the plain were in motion—each species going its own way. The dauws galloped off in a clump, holding a straight course over the plain; the springboks scattering in every direction, as is their wont; while the gnoos, first uniting into an irregular drove, ran forward some distance in a straight line, and then some broke to right and left, wheeled round, and came scouring back to the rear of the hunters!