Hunters three: Sport and adventure in South Africa

by Thomas Wallace Knox

"Thank you, sir, but I do not know that we need any assistance whatever; you are very kind to tender it, but really we manage to get along very comfortably. Should I think of anything in which you can aid us I will not hesitate to send word to your camp. Do you remain long in this neighborhood?"

"As to that I cannot say positively," I replied; "we have formed no very definite plans. Shall stay where we are as long as the hunting is good, and when it falls off we'll go elsewhere. I presume that is very much the case with yourselves?"

"Yes," she replied; "we stay in a place as long as we like it, and then move on."

With that she bowed, as if to intimate that I had better be moving on in my own direction. I took the hint and bade her good-day, with the suggestion that I had been greatly pleased at meeting her; and she amiably returned the suggestion almost word for word. I went back in the direction of my fallen elephant, and she turned the other way in the forest.

The reader will naturally want to know how this amazon of the African woods was dressed.

Her costume was decidedly mannish, and less unlike mine than might at first be supposed. She wore loose, baggy trousers that were thrust into hunting-boots, thus enabling her to get around the forest far easier than if she had been encumbered with any kind of skirts, even short ones. The upper part of her figure was clad in a tunic that was buttoned from the neck down the whole length of the front, and terminated just at the knee, not below it. The tunic was evidently made for hunting-purposes, as it abounded in pockets and had a cartridge-case firmly sewed to it. On her head she wore a sola topee, or sun-helmet, and in general her dress was not at all unlike that of a man. While we were conversing she stood behind a fallen log, so that I could not take in the entire outline of her figure. Her manner was pleasing enough, and altogether I felt myself a little touched in the region of the heart. Her independence had piqued me somewhat, and I felt that I wanted to see her again, but exactly how to go about it I did not know. She had not invited me to visit their camp or indicated the slightest desire that any one of our party should come near her or her friend. While she had not said they wished to be left alone, she certainly did not say that she wanted any of our company.

I got back to where my fallen elephant lay, and then sent Mirogo to camp to bring men and an ax for cutting out the animal's tusks. I told him to be particular and not make any mistake, as the men might stumble on the carcass of the elephant which Miss Boland had killed. I remarked that it would be very discourteous to take the tusks of her elephant instead of ours, and, furthermore, that ours were much larger than hers.

Then, accompanied by Kalil, I made my way back to camp, reaching there an hour or more before Harry and Jack returned from their unprofitable wait at the edge of the forest. We took lunch, and then went down the river to shoot hippopotami. We met with fairly good luck, as we killed three or four of the big brutes, though we secured only one, the others sinking out of our reach in the river. It is proper to say that I had no actual part in the affair, as I turned away before reaching the river to stalk a gemsbok.

"We made a good-sized raft of reeds," said Harry—"one that would hold both of us and a couple of men to paddle the craft. In this raft we floated out into the river and down a half-mile or so, where it expands into a narrow lake. When we started we couldn't see a hippo, not one, as they'd all taken the alarm at the noise we made building and launching the raft. By the time we got down to the broad portion of the river we were beyond the point of disturbance, and then we saw their snouts sticking out of the water in various directions. The proper thing to do is to shoot the hippo in shallow water, and then throw a harpoon into him just as quickly as you can. If you can manage to kill him instantly with your first shot, and the water is not too deep, you can get him and drag him ashore; but unless your first shot is instantly fatal he gets away.

"And that was the case with us," Harry continued; "there was only one that we got fine work into, and that we did with an explosive bullet. Jack was the lucky fellow. He put the bullet straight into the hippo's ear, and that, you know, is the best shot to make. It didn't explode until it got well into his head, and I don't believe there was ever a more astonished creature in the river than that beast was when the explosion came. He went to the bottom like a shot; that is, he went down about four feet. We had a harpoon along, one of the regular style that the natives hunt with, and we prodded that into the fellow just as soon as we could. Then we paddled the raft off to the shore, and dragged him along by means of the harpoon-line."