When we reached the camp we gave up our tent to our guests, sent their horses to the kraal to be fed and cared for, and then proceeded to interview our cook. Table was set, and in due time we sat down to a feast, the principal dish being an elephant's foot, which the reader already knows about. Our guests had never seen or tasted of this dish, and they praised it so warmly as to bring the blushes all over the cheeks of Jack Delafield, who had supervised its preparation.
We had several other things in the luncheon, including buffalo-steaks and rhinoceros-stew; but they received very little attention, the elephant's foot being the pièce de résistance of the occasion.
We lingered a reasonable while over the table, and then it was proposed that the three from our camp should accompany the two from the other on their homeward way, and possibly do a little hunting while making the journey.
We discussed the propriety of attempting to stalk gemsbok or koodoo on the way, and Miss Boland said if she had her favorite ox David along, she would show us what could be done in the pursuit of gemsbok; but the probabilities were that the after-rider, Kleinboy, had returned to the wagons with the ox; and unless a herd of game animals could be found in the neighborhood of the camp, it would be altogether too late in the day for a hunt of that sort.
I went away from the table while the hunting-question was being settled, and went out to find Mirogo. He was regaling the cook with stories of his prowess and the wonderful things he had accomplished in previous excursions up-country with white men. Mirogo was a judicious liar, as he always placed his remarkable achievements at times and localities where it was impossible to confute him. If he found, while telling a story, that any of his auditors had the least knowledge of the affair, he subsided at once. In everything concerning our own affairs, and particularly in reports of game that had just been sighted, he was quite exact—as exact as one could possibly expect a native of South Africa to be.
When I questioned Mirogo as to the chances of game in the direction where we were going, he said he did not think there was much there just at that time. The elephants seemed to have crossed the river and gone farther north, while the buffaloes appeared to have worked away quite a distance to the westward. Some natives had told him about two or three troops of rhinoceroses, and the presence of these animals was a pretty fair indication that the elephants had gone elsewhere.
I have already stated that the elephant and rhinoceros are not friends, and generally fight when they meet. The rhinoceros and buffalo get along very well together, and I have repeatedly seen mixed herds of these two animals living on the most friendly terms. But it is not all peace and happiness with them, as they occasionally get into difficulties with one another; and when a couple of bulls get to fighting, it is generally a fight to the death.
On one occasion, when I was pursuing one of these mixed herds through some low bushes, my attention was attracted by the vultures that were assembling from all directions near a certain spot. I rode to the place, and found a rhinoceros and a buffalo—both powerful bulls—in the agonies of death. No, they were not in agonies, as the buffalo had just died, and the rhinoceros was breathing his last. The latter had cut fearful gashes in the buffalo with the single horn that protrudes from his nose; and at the same time the buffalo had made vigorous use of those powerful horns that adorn his ugly head. I looked a few moments at the spectacle, and then went away, knowing that the vultures would very soon go at their work.
When I announced to my friends the hunting-prospects, nobody seemed particularly elated; the ladies said they had never hunted rhinoceros, and Mrs. Roberts asked if it would be proper for them to do so. I told her everything was game in Africa, and if she felt any compunctions of conscience about shooting the beasts, she might look on and see somebody else perform the work. So we mounted our horses and went off in the direction where the game was to be found.
A sturdy bull-rhinoceros is pretty nearly as dangerous when you hunt him as an elephant is. His body is unwieldy and very clumsy in appearance, but when his temper is up he can get around with it pretty rapidly. Sometimes, when he sees a hunter coming toward him, he does not wait to be fired at before charging, but goes in for the charge at once. This being the way of the animal, I suggested to the ladies that two of our party would begin the fight, while they, with the third one, could stay in the rear and look on.