Captain Alfred W. Drayson (continued 2)

The extremes on very many occasions appear to meet. The perfectly uncultivated man is certainly nearer perfection than he who has picked up a little knowledge, and is puffed up in consequence. We see this in so many subjects. In music, for instance, it is sweeter to hear a person (who may be ignorant of the science) play by ear an air, than listen to the struggles and unmusical contortions produced by some beginner trying to play by notes, on scientific principles. When one advances, and makes the acquired knowledge subservient to the natural, the admired effect is then produced.

A ring, composed of grease, wax, and wood, is worn on the head of the Kaffir men. I believe it to be a sign of a man having arrived at the dignity of marriage; it is called esikoko, the two k’s signifying two clicks of the tongue.

This clicking is a peculiarity of several South-African languages. The Bushmen, Hottentots, and Kaffirs have each several clicks. The Natal Kaffirs use but three, and these not frequently, as there are few words but can be understood without the click. In the Bushmen’s language, very many are used, and I have heard that a Bushman is not considered to speak his language elegantly until age has deprived him of all his teeth. These curious little men use a great deal of action during their conversation; and it is said, that if a Bushman wishes to talk during a dark night, he is obliged to light a fire, to enable the listeners to see his action, and thereby fully to comprehend his meaning. A deadly hatred exists between the Kaffirs and the Bushmen, and war to the knife is the result of any chance encounter, always supposing that neither party can retreat, as they have a mutual dread of each other.

I soon made inquiries with reference to the game in the Natal district, and was informed that the following were the principal animals that were plentiful; viz.,—snipe, quail, partridges of three species, pheasant, two species of Guinea-fowl,—one that was generally found in the plains, the other in the forests: the latter was a very fine bird, excellent eating, and very handsome; he had a fine top-knot on his head, but was otherwise similar, only superior in size, to that of the plains. Two species of bustards were common; viz., the coran and the pouw, both excellent eating, the latter frequently reaching to a great size and weight. Ostriches were sometimes met on the plains near the Draakensberg Mountains. Many birds, brilliantly adorned, frequented the forests, amongst which the golden cuckoo and the lowry were conspicuous. Eagles and hawks of all sizes sailed around in search of prey, while the little sugar-birds, with their long fluttering tails and their dazzling plumage, gave an appearance of life to every bush.

Three species of bush-buck were plentiful in the forests along the coast. The finest is the black bush-buck (Tragelaphus sylvaticus). The male is three feet high, and about five feet long; he is very elegant, and stouter than the generality of antelopes; his horns about a foot long, nearly straight, and wrinkled near the base; the general colour is dark chestnut, black above, and marked with a streak of white along the spine, with several white spots about the body: the female is similar, but lighter-coloured, and without horns. The ears, large and round, are well adapted for the bush, and the hunter must be an adept who approaches these antelopes without causing them alarm; few shots are obtained at them, owing to their watchfulness. The red bush-buck (Oreotragus griseus) is a very common antelope in the wooded tracts up the south-eastern coast. The male is about two feet high, and about three in length; small horns, three inches long, smooth, round, and vertical; large ears; colour deep reddish-brown: the female similar, but hornless. The foot of this buck, between the division of the hoof underneath, has a small hole that reaches to the fetlock-joint; a straw can be pushed up in it to that extent. I cannot conceive its object. The blue buck (Cephalophorus caeruleus) is a beautiful creature; the male is scarcely more than a foot in height, and about two feet three inches long; ears like a rat’s, but much larger; small and conical horns, two inches in length, closely annulated; colour dark blue, or mouse-colour: female hornless and smaller, otherwise similar. These three bush-bucks were solitary, and very wary. The latter antelope was very difficult to distinguish in the gloom of the bush, his colour suiting well for concealment. The duiker (Cephalopus mergens): most frequently found amongst bushes, or long grass; about two feet high, three feet eight inches long; horns four inches in length; colour dun: female with smaller horns, otherwise similar. The steinbuck (Oreotragus tragulus): about twenty-one inches high, and three feet in length; horns four inches long, wrinkled at the base, slender and pointed; colour brownish-red, with belly white: female hornless, otherwise similar. Generally found in bushy ground along the hills. The ourebi (Oreotragus scoparius): two feet high at shoulder, and four in length; horns annulated, and about five inches long; colour pale tawny, with white belly: female similar, but hornless and smaller. Generally found in the plains in pairs. The reit-buck (Eleotragus reduncus): three feet high, nearly five feet in length; horns one foot long, and annulated near the base; ears six inches long; colour ashy-grey, white beneath: female smaller, but hornless, otherwise similar. Besides variously in reeds, grass, and near bushes. Generally found in pairs. He frequently lies down in a small patch of grass, and, from his colour, is overlooked by the sportsmen.

The leopard (Felis leopardus): male two feet six inches high at the shoulder, and seven feet in extreme length; armed with long teeth and retractile claws; colour tawny and reddish-brown; the chin, breast, belly, and inside of extremities white, irregularly marked with spots of black, which vary in size and colour at different ages and states of condition; tail nearly four feet long: female similar, but smaller. Found in thick coverts, either bush or reeds. Destructive to poultry, cattle, and game; generally seizes its victim by the back of the neck.

The spotted hyaena (Crocuta maculata): height about two feet six inches, sloping towards the rump; length about five feet ten inches; colour brown, with blotches of circular black spots; white under; head short and broad; feet like a dog’s; common in bush and plain: female similar. Destructive to sheep, calves, and foals; seizing them by the flank, and holding on until the piece gives way or the animal falls. This animal possesses a wonderful strength of jaw, grinding the bones of the largest animals to powder: it is very cowardly. The Crocuta brunnea was also common, but did not very greatly differ in habits or appearance from the spotted hyaena.

The wild hog (Sus Scrofa): height two feet six inches; extreme length about five feet; canine teeth very strong, those in the upper jaw projecting horizontally, those in the lower upwards; colour dirty brown; bristles long; tail a foot long. Inhabits the forests (gregarious).

The African wild-boar (Phacochaerus aethiopicus): height two feet six inches; extreme length six feet; colour reddish-brown; covered with bristles; canine teeth, very large, curved upwards, forming a semicircle; head very large, a large fleshy wen behind each eye, and an excrescence on each side of the muzzle; tail tufted with bristles, two feet long, straight. Gregarious; found in the plains; retreats into holes in the ground when pursued; dangerous when wounded.

The reh-buck (Eleotragus villosus): male two and a half feet high, about five feet in length, slender, and neck long; horns about nine inches long, straight, pointed, and slender; colour greyish-buff, white beneath: female similar, but hornless and smaller. Found in troops of from six to twenty, generally on the rocky hills.

The hartebeest (Acronotus Caama): male five feet high, and nine in extreme length; head long, horns forming nearly a right angle, rising above the head about eight inches, and then turning backwards; colour bright sienna, with a red shade, black stripes down the back of the neck, on the fore-leg, and on the hind-leg: female smaller, with more slender horns, otherwise similar. Found in large herds in the plains.

The eland (Boselaphus oreas): male six feet high at the shoulder, and about twelve feet in length; horns two feet long, with a ridge ascending in a spiral direction about half-way up, the spiral making two turns when the male is an adult; appearance like a bull, a broad dewlap hanging to the knees; tail two feet six inches long; general colour dun, or ashy-grey, with a blue tinge when heated: female smaller and slighter, with more slender horns, and without the ridge; no dewlap. Found in large herds in the plains.

The buffalo (Bubalus Caffer): male about five feet six inches high, twelve feet in length, very heavily made, neck short, breast dew-lapped, head ponderous, eyes nearly overshadowed by hair and the heavy dark-coloured horns, which are nearly in contact at the base, spread out horizontally, and curve round and inwards; hide bluish black, without hair: female similar, but smaller in every way. Found on the plains and forests in herds, and often a solitary bull in the forests; very dangerous.

The hippopotamus (Hippopotamus amphibius): four feet six inches high at the shoulder, ten feet long; body ponderous, legs very short, head thick, eye small, and placed in a prominence; ears small and round; the upper incisors and canine teeth large,—the latter may be called tusks; skin very thick and tough; colour pinkish-brown: female smaller. Amphibious; found in the rivers and lakes; several still remain in Sea-cow Lake, about six miles from Natal, and in several of the rivers up the coast. The ivory is valuable, as it is curved in the shape of the nautical sextant, and being very hard, is especially adapted for the fine lines used upon Vernier scales; the skin is cut up into whips, called by the colonists sjamboks; the flesh is good eating, tasting when salted something like pork.

The elephant (Loxodonta africana): male twelve feet high, droops towards the tail; extreme length eighteen feet; colour blackish-brown; tail short, tufted with coarse hair at the end; ears very large, and front of head round; tusks large, from three to seven feet in length, weighing nearly a hundred pounds: female smaller, with tusks, except solitary specimens. Gregarious; found in large troops in the forests; wary, fierce, and vindictive.

Besides the animals that I have described, there were baboons, monkeys, rock-rabbits (the hyrax), a species of hare, porcupines, the ratel, many small vermin, such as the ichneumon, etc., in great numbers. All these animals were to be found in the Natal district in numbers, whilst across the Drookensburg Mountains were camelopards, rhinoceros, zebras, koodoo, wildebeest, gnoos, sassybys, water-buck, roan-antelope, blesbok, springbok, pallahs, ostriches, and many other magnificent animals, in countless herds.

A curious creature inhabits the African forest,—many specimens were found by me in the Berea, near Natal; it is called the Manis. It looks like a large and scaly lizard, being covered with hard scales, or plates, like thick short leaves; when lying on the ground motionless, it resembles a vegetable. Its body is long; tail twice the length of body; total length, about four feet; it is toothless.

The Cape horses have been universally praised by travellers; they are particularly hardy, game, and docile. The climate in many parts of the colony is well suited for breeding; and although inland but little attention is paid to this important matter, still it is a rare occurrence to find an animal, however ugly or misshapen, without its redeeming quality. At Cape Town and the immediate neighbourhood, the horses generally are like those of England, with a slight trace of the Arab in their head and hind-quarters; the breed, in fact, is a compound of the English thoroughbred and the Arab. Several well-known English horses have found their way to the Cape, having been purchased for exportation when they were stale or broken down; Fancy Boy, Battledore, Rococo, Gorhambury, Evenus, and many more, having acted as fountains for supplying a stream of pure blood through the equine veins of Africa. Nearly a hundred horses of tolerable English fame have been landed at the Cape within the last twenty years.

In many parts of the colony races are held, and the stakes are sufficient to repay the winners for their expenses in training and breeding. In Cape Town horses of good appearance fetch from twenty-five to sixty guineas, and very much larger prices are frequently given. The stallion is all-in-all with Cape breeders, the mare being considered as quite a secondary item. The consequence is, that from the frequent disproportion between the dam and sire, awkward-looking animals are common, more especially inland, where the science of breeding is less understood: a horse is frequently seen with fore-quarters equal to fifteen hands, and hind-quarters only large enough for a pony. In Africa many animals have a tendency to largeness about the fore-quarters; the elephant, wildebeest, and hartebeest appearing unnaturally heavy in front, and as though they required but a push from behind to send them on their noses. Whether the climate has anything to do with this peculiar form I know not, but the horses are seldom too large in their hind-quarters, although the Hottentots and the Cape sheep are in this particular absolutely ponderous.

The Hantam and Swellendam districts are celebrated for their breed of horses, and these supply great part of the colony. The qualities most esteemed amongst the Cape breeders are,—small head, small ears, large nostril, small muzzle, broad chest, large bone in the leg, short in the cannon and pastern, toes rather turned in than out; well ribbed home (many Dutchmen would not buy a horse that allowed more than four fingers to be placed between the last rib and the hip-bone); broad behind, with the tail set on very high (this last is a spécialité); cow-hocks are detested. Several small peculiarities are esteemed at the Cape that are not even observed in England; for instance, a Dutchman once told me that he knew a pony of mine must be enduring, from the small size of the corns on the inside of the hind-legs; he assured me that, when this was the case, a horse rarely tired, while, when the reverse, he generally shut up with only half a journey. I must own that I found this man’s theory correct, as far as my experience carried me.

The Cape shooting-ponies are most extraordinary animals. In a country of this description, where every small journey, or even call, is made on horseback, the pony is more convenient than the horse; he is more easily mounted, is cheaper both to keep and buy, and is generally more manageable and teachable. Beauty forms no necessary item with a shooting-pony; he is often ugly, misshapen, big-headed, and small in girth; but upon examining him closely, the large bone of the leg, game head, and large nostril, with several other recommendations, cancel the imperfection of want of beauty. His action also is peculiar; he rarely walks, his mode of progression being a sort of tripple, at which he travels about six or seven miles an hour: trotting is not admired by the Boers. When the pony gallops, he shows good action, and his activity in scrambling down the hills that are covered with loose stones, rocks, and holes, is something marvellous; he is seldom shod, his hoofs being as hard and tough as iron. I usually shod the fore hoofs, as the roads were sometimes hard in or near the towns; but inland, where the country was nearly all grass, even this was unnecessary. The hardiness of these ponies was extraordinary; they frequently had but little to eat, and less to drink, were ridden long journeys, and then, while covered with sweat, turned out on a plain to pick up a very scanty meal. Their principal forage was fresh air and a roll in the sand; and upon these they thrived very well, while grooming was considered quite an unnecessary labour, and a proceeding that did more harm than good.

When a Boer takes a long journey, he rides one pony and leads two others, changing his saddle from back to back, as each animal has done its share. Biding for two hours, and off-saddling for half an hour, is the usual arrangement; six miles an hour being the general pace. When a traveller halts in Africa, which he does in a well-chosen spot, near water and shade if possible, he takes off the saddle and bridle, and knee-halters his horse; this last affair is nothing more than fastening the animal’s head to its leg just above the knee; the leg is lifted up, and the halter passed round, and formed into a clove hitch: thus held, the animal is unable to move away quickly, and can be caught when required: the halter does not slip, or gall the leg. As soon as the pony finds himself at this partial liberty, he searches for a dry, sandy place, scrapes the ground a little, and then enjoys his roll; he gets up covered with dust and dirt, takes a drink, and loses no time, but at once picks up as much grass as the place affords. When the traveller is again ready, the animal is up-saddled, and the journey continued. Few of the colonial settlers have stables; the pony, on completing the journey, is turned out to graze until evening, when it is driven into an inclosure fenced with palings or brushwood, and thus left uncovered and uncombed. In the morning, it is turned out for the day. The better-kept horses have oats, barley, and Indian corn; oats being expensive in many parts of South Africa, barley is obliged to supply its place, and the horses consequently suffer in condition; the Indian corn is fattening, but is very inferior to oats; it is also dangerous by blowing out horses; and if they are allowed to drink much after eating it, they sometimes die from the swelling of the corn inside them, or the gas there generated.

About the coast of Natal, horses did not thrive well; the climate was rather relaxing, and “the sickness,” as it is called, sometimes attacked them. The enormous number of ticks that transferred their adhesive properties from the grass to the hides of the horses, and then sucked the blood, was a species of outlay that few of the hard-worked quadrupeds could afford. If a horse were turned out to graze in the morning, he would before evening be covered with hundreds of ticks, each of which, by burying itself under the horse’s skin and sucking the blood, becomes distended and increased from the size and appearance of a common bug to that of a broad-bean. A Kaffir would be nearly an hour in clearing a horse from these animals, and after all overlook scores, whose distended hides would appear in the morning. The sickness that I refer to was very fatal: a horse would one day appear well, but perhaps a little heavy in hand; the next day he would be down on his side, and dead before the evening. I attended the post-mortem of one or two animals that died in this way, but could discover nothing decidedly unhealthy: this, however, was most probably owing to my want of experience in the veterinary art. The Boers are frequently unmerciful to their horses, and I seldom rode a horse that had been very long in the possession of a Boer, but I found its mouth like iron and its temper none of the sweetest. The Dutchmen frequently train their shooting-horses to stand fire by galloping them for two or three miles and then firing twenty or thirty shots from their backs. If these horses are at all frisky under the discharge, the merciless riders, plying whip and spur, take another gallop, and repeat the performance until they conquer the restlessness of their steeds. This is certainly not a proceeding likely to improve the temper of any animal, particularly if well bred or having any fire in its composition; but rough-and-ready is the great thing in Africa.

When well-trained, the Cape shooting-pony is worth his weight in gold; he is treated more like a dog than a horse, knows when he is spoken to, and obeys orders, fears nothing, and seems to delight in sport. I possessed a pony that was so easily managed and steady, that I frequently shot snipe, partridges, and always buck, from off his back. He was my daily companion for two years, and rarely played me a trick. He had a queer temper; but, knowing this, I made due allowance, and we always managed things well. If I spurred him, or pulled the rein, when he approached a hill, he would stop and refuse to advance; but a word or two in Dutch, in place of the assault, would make matters progress satisfactorily. I heard that his career after I left was unfortunate;—he passed through one or two hands who could not have understood him, and was finally killed by a lion in the interior. I can easily imagine that such would have been his fate, should he be in the vicinity of a hungry lion, as he never showed fear of elephants or any other animal, and was not alarmed by the smell of a fresh lion’s skin past which I rode one day.

The Boers are generally very heavy men, and the small shooting-ponies that they ride appear fearfully overweighted: a pony of twelve or thirteen hands is ridden long journeys, and hunted, by a Boer of some fourteen or sixteen stone weight. The game little animal does its work well in spite of the weight it carries; and one of the surprising facts to an Englishman fresh in the African hunting-field is the pace at which the Boers thus mounted go across country. Neither whip nor spur is spared during a chase, and, not contented with the day’s hard work, these Boers sometimes on returning home take a half-mile gallop as a test of the enduring qualities of their ponies. During my experience in Africa, I was but once unfortunate enough to have a horse that I was riding knock up with me: the animal was a new purchase, and had led a life of idleness during some previous weeks. The results of its failing me were a thorough ducking and a very unpleasant journey of near five miles. It may give an idea of the manners of the civilised man of South Africa, if I detail the circumstance. I left Pietermaritzburg about three o’clock in the afternoon, and purposed resting for the night at Stony Hill, the distance being twenty-five miles. About eight miles had been accomplished, when I was attracted by a grand fight between two bulls. I watched the struggle for a considerable time, and admired the courage of each combatant: sometimes they would charge each other, and, falling on their knees, roar and bellow with mingled rage and pain. Victory for a long time was doubtful, until the strength of one appeared to be failing, and then, turning tail, he galloped off, followed by his conqueror. Finding that the sun had moved a considerable distance while I was engaged in watching the bull-fight, I pushed on faster than the usual African travelling-pace, and found, before twelve miles were ridden, that my horse appeared much distressed. The day was intensely hot, and I thought an “off-saddle” for half an hour might refresh the animal; but upon again starting I found it difficult to spur even a trot out of him. I dismounted and tried to lead him, but found he was one of those brutes that will not follow. He stuck his head out as I drew the reins tight, but would not stir an inch. Remounting, I managed to hustle him along at a smart walk; but even this I did not accomplish without considerable manual and spur labour. I had nearly five miles before me, and the sun was within half an hour of setting. Had the night been fine, a ride would have been pleasant during the moonlight; but the dark heavy clouds that were gathering round, and a drop of rain that fell occasionally, gave earnest of a coming storm. No house or resting-place was there on the road, except that for which I was making my way, and Botha’s, which latter was five miles farther. I reached Stony Hill soon after dark, and was preparing to dismount at the door of the inn, near which I noticed two waggons; when the man who kept the establishment came out, and said, “Who’s that?” I told him that I wanted a dinner, a bed, and stabling. I heard him make a remark in Dutch to some person within the building, and distinguished “verdamt Englishmensch” as two of the words. He then turned round to me, and said, “I can’t give you a dinner or a bed.” I told him that I was not particular about what I ate, but, as my horse was knocked up, I could not go farther. He said, “Well, you shan’t stop here; and if you didn’t mind sleeping in the pigsty, I wouldn’t even let you have a bed there.” I was very angry with him, and high words ensued; and I am afraid that deeds would have followed the words, had not a Hottentot near me whispered that I had better not strike the man, as he would not hesitate to use the knife when he was half-drunk. I therefore turned my tired horse again into the road, and, with a vigorous dig of the spur, retreated, from the conflict. I had now five miles of a very rough road before me: it passed over stony hills, and wound round the side of others. The night was dark as Erebus, and the road, or rather beaten track, could only be distinguished during the flashes of lightning, which now came with blinding brilliancy. My horse slipped down on his side, and nearly broke my ankle, as we were passing round a hill on the side of which the road sloped; the rain, that now fell with rapidity, having made the track greasy and slippery. Dismounting, I drove the horse before me, but had great difficulty in getting him to keep the beaten track; sometimes he would turn to the right or left, and the long grass brushing against my legs would alone make me acquainted with the fact of having left the road. I then waited for a fresh flash of lightning to enable me to regain the pathway. Strange and indistinct forms would be seen as the surrounding country was electrically illuminated; the wild animals always choosing rainy or stormy weather to wander forth from their rocks, holes, and coverts. Nearly two hours were passed in the midst of the most vivid lightning and deafening thunder, while the rain poured upon me in torrents. At the end of that time I reached Botha’s Hotel: I had to knock up the landlord from his bed; but this civil and obliging man lighted a fire for me, and brought the better half of a chicken-pie; in the enjoyment of which luxuries I soon forgot the previous disagreeables; and throwing off my wet garments, and fastening a blanket round my neck, and wrapping myself in its folds Kaffir fashion, I feasted like a Zulu chief.

Chapter Four.

Warnings against the bush—Search after a leopard—Unsteady hands—methods of hunting elephants—Speed of the elephant—Bush-travelling—Traces of the elephants—Solitude of the bush—Tracking the herd—Charge of angry elephants—The horses reached—Search for the wounded elephant—The successful shot—An unwitting escape.

I had received so many accounts from different sources as to the great dangers that were certainly to be met in the dense bush of the Berea, and also the part that extended across the Umganie for several miles up the coast, that I had hesitated attempting so rash a course as entering it until I had gathered experience from trying cautiously at first what dangers I was likely to encounter. “Elephants would catch me; tigers (ie leopards) becroup (ie stalk) me; snakes bite me,” etc.: these and other horrors would be sure to entail my return on a shutter. I frequently rode round and looked for a short distance into different parts of the bush, gathering confidence each time.

One morning early, a Hottentot man came to tell me that his master had sent him to ask if I would like to join a party going out after a leopard that had destroyed several chickens, and had also breakfasted on a half-grown pig on the said morning. I was glad of this chance, as I hoped to see some sport, and immediately shouldering my gun, and fastening a large clasp-knife in my belt, joined my guide, who led me to a house on the outskirts of the village of D’Urban, where I found a party of ten or twelve as rough-looking customers as one could desire to see: I am sure a leopard would not have had courage even to look at them. If beards or dirt made African sportsmen, I thought I must be in a very hot-bed of them.—I soon saw that the party were more of the style of sporting-men than sportsmen; they were liberally imbibing brandy and water, which they wanted to force upon me to steady my nerves; an auxiliary I begged to decline, first, on account of the hour (10 a.m.), and, secondly, because the shaking hands of many present made me doubt its steadying qualities. We started in two divisions, one taking the trail into the bush where the pig had been made pork, while the other entered where the leopard generally came out.

The cover was so very dense and thick that we were obliged to crawl on all fours, great care being necessary to prevent the triggers or cocks of the gun from getting set and caught: we were all particularly requested to be silent; but the hairy men would talk. After creeping 150 yards, we came to some of the bones of the pig, evidently just left by the leopard: we watched carefully every gloomy part of the surrounding bush to discover the leopard, but could see nothing. Suddenly a bird flitted away close to us, and one of the bearded gentlemen, who had appeared the greatest swaggerer, called for us to look out, as the leopard was coming. I immediately heard the click-click of double-barrelled guns coming to full cock, and saw a gentleman a few yards to my right pointing his gun straight at me; I shouted to him to mind what he was about, when he coolly told me he was only getting ready in case the leopard sprung; his shaking hands, however, were certainly not pleasant masters of a trigger, the slightest pressure on which would have sent an ounce of lead through me.

I withdrew as soon as possible, as I was convinced there was no chance of seeing sport with these cock-tail gentry, who, it is almost needless to add, saw nothing of the wild animal, and returned soon to their nerve-steadying specific. The leopard had been seen retreating by two Kaffirs, who happened to be passing on the opposite side, immediately we entered the bush: we could not have been within 300 yards of the monster, therefore, at any time.

With most South-African sportsmen the elephant is one of the last of the wild animals which he is fortunate enough to see: it was my first. The view was not a long one, still it is well impressed on my memory.

I received a note one morning before breakfast from a true sportsman, informing me that he knew of a large herd of elephants in the Berea, and, if I would join him, he hoped that we might get a shot at them. This proposition, from our ignorance of all the artifices necessary in the bush, was rather rash, as elephant-shooting is always dangerous sport, and when attempted by novices on foot in a dense bush against a very savage herd, it becomes still more so.

Elephants are generally hunted in Africa on horseback. The Dutchmen, who frequently obtain their living by this sport only, are amongst the most accomplished hands; they make periodical trips into the uninhabited districts, or where elephants are numerous, and the country open or park-like. When a herd of elephants is discovered, these Boers make a plan of attack, either to drive the herd of game to a better and more open country, or to prevent them from retreating to the dense bushes near. As soon as everything suits, they mark out the leader of the troop, generally the biggest bull-elephant. They then ride up as near as they dare, and give him a volley; if he falls, they can manage the remainder more easily, as, missing their chief, some confusion takes place. Should he, however, be only wounded, turn savage, and charge, as is most frequently the case, they close together, and gallop away for a hundred yards or so, when, at a given signal, they separate, and ride round in different directions. This diversion generally puzzles the elephant, and, before he has made up his mind what to do, another broadside is poured into him. Two or three volleys are generally sufficient to quiet the big bull. I have been assured by many old elephant-hunters that they have frequently seen a herd of elephants stand with their heads together, after the leader has been killed, as though in despair, and they would not make a rush: these may be pleasant, but are undoubtedly rare, chances for the pot-hunter. Gordon Cumming’s plan of lying in wait for the elephants at their drinking-place was a bold and successful plan. I cannot but think him a very lucky man never to have had a wounded bull charge him then; had one done so, I fear we should not have had his amusing lectures, or his own account of his wonderful sport.

Many methods of elephant-hunting may never have come to light, owing to the enterprising sportsman having been crushed to death by his infuriated game before he had an opportunity of making public his experience.

An elephant can run very fast, and moves with surprising ease and silence.

I remember hearing tales as a boy of the elephant’s beginning to turn early in the morning, and managing to finish his gymnastic performance by mid-day; the wily hunter, therefore, by keeping behind, him was always safe.

My own experience is very different from this: I have seen them turn round and crash away through the forest with nearly the rapidity of a large buck; and a man’s speed stands but a poor chance in comparison with theirs. In the thick underwood or reeds a man is continually impeded, while an elephant walks through everything with the greatest ease; a horse, however, in open ground gets away from an elephant, especially when going up hill, the weight of the latter being much against it on rising ground.

The elephant stands very high in the class of wise animals, and, I believe, is as fully susceptible of a moral lesson as is a schoolboy. When a large herd is but seldom disturbed by man, but on each visit five or six elephants are killed, and two or three more die of their wounds, the remainder then have a very great dread of the smell of a biped, and the report of his gun; but when elephants are disturbed very frequently, and only one shot obtained at them, which wounds and annoys, but may not kill, they become very savage, and, upon smelling their teasing enemy, are at once furious and vindictive. The herds that came into the Natal bush were of this latter disposition; they were frequently disturbed, and sometimes fired at, but without any great result, as the density of the cover rendered it almost impossible to get more than one shot; and a single bullet rarely carries immediate death.

The bush for many miles up the Natal coast was impenetrable, except by the paths that the elephants had made; and in which they had stalked to and from water, and from place to place, in Indian file. It was difficult for a man, when moving along these paths, to see many yards on either side, the underwood, briers, and parasitical plants, being matted together like a hedge. In many, parts one has to force himself through places where he cannot see a yard around him. Here he must trust to hearing, and almost to scent, or he will not long be left to enjoy the excitement of the sport, which, when once indulged in, produces a bush-fever that leaves as lasting an impression as the similar disease caught on the prairies of the Far West. Patience, caution, keen senses, and experience, are the requisites for this work; and unless a hunter possesses the whole of these qualities, he will give but a sorry account of the fun to be had in the bush; the general cry being “that no game is to be seen there.”

I soon joined my friend, who, although a thorough good sportsman, and a slayer of nearly all the large game of Africa, was still not quite up to the precautions necessary in thick bush-work, I at the time being grossly ignorant of everything connected with it.

We cantered over the Natal flat, and entered a small, narrow bush-path, that led to the top of the Berea. On the way, my friend told me how he had become acquainted with the position of the herd we purposed encountering.

His Kaffirs had discovered the traces on the road to Pietermaritzburg, which they had crossed during the night. He himself had examined the road leading to the flagstaff at the top of the Berea, and found that they had not passed this; so he knew that they must be between the two roads mentioned. He therefore concluded that we should find them about half-way between the two, and near a large umbrella-looking tree, which plainly showed itself from all parts of the surrounding country.

Unfortunately, as both our guns were of small calibre, being fourteen-bore only, I was recommended to put in two tops of powder, instead of the usual charge of one, and also to use my friend’s bullets, as they had been prepared with one-eighth of tin, to harden the balls, and prevent them from flattening against a bone.

The Berea in this part was about two miles broad, and was very thick, with plenty of underwood in most parts.

On reaching the top of the woody hill, we found an open space of some twenty yards in diameter, where we dismounted, and left our horses, taking care to fasten them to a tree by the head-stalls, which are generally allowed to remain on the head, either for the purpose of fastening up a horse, or for knee-haltering him. M— (my friend) showed me the fresh indications of the elephants. The grass was trodden down in every direction, and in some places it was torn up, as though a heavy piece of timber had been dragged along over it. One or two places, which were destitute of grass and rather clayey, retained large circular and oval-shaped impressions, which M— explained to me as belonging,—the circular to the bull, and the oval to the cow-elephants; the height of the respective elephant being about six times the diameter of these impressions. We measured one footprint, which gave us an answer of twelve feet, a height quite sufficient to satisfy the fastidious in this sort of sport.

A strange mysterious feeling came over me in being thus brought for the first time on the fresh traces of evidently a numerous herd of these gigantic animals. I began to ask if it were not great impertinence for two such pigmies as we now seemed, to attempt an attack upon at least forty of these giants, who, by a swing of their trunks, or a stamp of their foot on us, could have terminated our earthly career with as much ease as we could that of an impertinent fly? There is also an utter feeling of loneliness, and self-dependence, in treading the mazes of these vast forests. One mile of bush always appeared to remove me farther from man and his haunts than twenty miles of open country. One is inspired with a kind of awe by the gloom and silence that pervade these regions, the only sounds being the warning-note of some hermit-bird, or the crack of a distant branch. The limited view around also tends to keep every other sense on the alert, and the total absence of every sign of man, or man’s work, appears to draw one nearer to the spirit-world, and to impress us with a greater sense of the Divine presence.

Our advance was rather quick, as we did not pay sufficient attention to the signs and noises as we approached the elephants. Scarcely thirty yards had been gone over when I looked round to the spot where our horses stood; the thickness of the intervening bush, however, prevented me from seeing them. Several large branches had been broken off the trees, the ends eaten, and then cast across the path in different directions. Either in play or rage, the elephants had entirely destroyed two or three trees of a considerable size, that stood near their path, peeling the bark off in many instances for several feet up the stems.

We steadily continued our advance, following in the footsteps of the elephants; the freshly-trodden course of the gigantic animals being clearly indicated.

I was much surprised at the silence that reigned in the bush. I expected that a herd of wild elephants would indicate their presence by noises audible at a great distance. M— told me, however, that during the day they usually remained quiet, especially when they knew that they were in a suspicious neighbourhood, or where they had lately smelt traces of man. This cautious proceeding I have since discovered to be invariable.

We trudged on steadily for about a mile, creeping under the branches that crossed our path, and removing others which had apparently been dropped by the elephants. We were at length stopped by observing the branches of a distant tree violently shaken. We watched them for a considerable time, and listened, but only heard a queer sort of rumbling noise for which we could not then account. This, as I afterwards knew, was caused by elephants; but seeing a couple of monkeys jumping about in a distant tree, we thought that it was caused by these little animals, and therefore proceeded.

About one hundred yards farther the bush became very dense, long creepers growing all over the shrubs, matting and tying the underwood together, so as to render it quite impenetrable, except where the elephants had forced a path. We moved through these passages quickly, and of course caused some noise. I was about two yards behind M—, and scarcely expected anything could be near, when suddenly the bushes on our right and close to us were violently shaken, and a deep sort of growl was uttered, that sounded much like a lion’s roar. M— jumped forward, and raised his gun to fire; I was going to follow him, but on looking a little to our left, I saw a huge elephant, about ten yards distant, striding towards us, with his trunk coiled up and ears erect. At the same instant M— fired to his right, and springing past me, shouted, “Run for your fife!” I did not stop for another look, as I then heard, almost over me, the terrific shrill trumpet of the animal which I had seen charging, in addition to the growl of the wounded elephant and the answering shrieks of several others who were round us.

Our burst for the first hundred yards must have been fine, but we had nothing to spare, as I looked round soon after starting and saw the big elephant coming after us as if he really meant mischief, and but a short distance behind us.

I lost my hat, but we rushed on, diving under some branches, hopping over others, dodging this way and that, until I was completely blown, and called for a halt, as, having both barrels loaded, I was anxious for a shot. M—, however, would not hear of stopping, but still recommended that we should clear out of the bush with the greatest quickness, as the herd had shown themselves so savage. I bowed to his superior judgment, knowing that he combined true courage and daring with a sufficient caution to prevent recklessness for the mere sake of display. We at length came to our horses, and I must own I felt more comfortable when my leg was over my stout game little pony, than I did when on foot within a yard or so of the elephant’s trunk.

We stopped to listen, and heard the shrieks and trumpets of this wild troop, and the crashing of the bush, which showed that they had not yet entirely given up the hope of trampling to death their insignificant but annoying enemy. I had, as I before stated, dropped my hat during the first hundred yards’ rush, and I did not care at the time to stop to pick it up.

M— soon told me that he thought we should find his elephant dead if we returned, as he had killed rhinoceroses, and thought the growl we had heard was indicative of a death-wound. As he had aimed behind the shoulder, he considered such a result probable.

Upon riding clear from the bush, we found on the Natal flat a Hottentot, who was quietly sitting down mending his only pair of trowsers; he looked at us very knowingly and said, “Olephants barnie qui bas,” (Elephants very angry, sir). Upon asking him how he knew this, he told us, that although he could only just hear the report of the gun, he could still plainly hear the elephant’s trumpet, and he knew from the tone how savage they must be: this man was at least a mile distant from the scene of our encounter. On that evening it was decided that early on the morrow we should retrace our steps, and follow up the wounded elephant until we found him, in case he happened not to be dead on the spot; and also that we were to divide the ivory, as, although I had not actually fired, I had still aided and abetted in the affair. While we were thus quietly counting our chickens, this tough old African giant was most probably walking away through the forest, with no more idea of dying than we had; little cared he for a fourteen-to-the-pound bullet!

This was my first introduction to the South-African elephant, and I may say to South-African game.

On the following morning, the dew had scarcely been dried by the sun before we entered the bush on our traces of yesterday. We brought with us an English settler, an experienced elephant-hunter, two Kaffirs, and a Hottentot. We were uncertain about bringing a hatchet for the purpose of cutting out the teeth, in case the elephant was dead (the tusks, I should here remark, are commonly called the teeth, while what in England are called the teeth are really the grinders). We saved ourselves a vast amount of ridicule by leaving the hatchet at home.

We had no difficulty in at once recognising the spot on which our yesterday’s scene was acted. Had we been in doubt, the discovery of my hat would have settled the question; it had been knocked out of the path, and its broad brim was smashed considerably. No doubt the big elephant, in his charge, had accidentally trodden on it, and kicked it on one side.

We went to the spot on which M—’s elephant had stood. I certainly was disappointed to find that he had not even fallen on receiving the shot. None but an experienced eye could tell that anything extraordinary had even taken place here; but both Kaffirs and Hottentot at once saw, by the traces, all that had happened. These sharp-sighted savages pointed to the spot from whence M— had fired, and then to where the elephant had stood. They said he had turned round and rushed headlong towards the smoke of M—’s gun. He there stopped, and then slowly retreated, keeping himself away from the remainder of the herd.

We followed his traces, and soon found blood, both on the leases and branches, as also on the ground, but not in such large quantities as I should have supposed. We followed this spoor for some distance; but the blood soon ceasing, and the wounded elephant’s traces being crossed by other feet, we saw no more of him.

We discovered, however, that, during our advance on the previous day, we had passed three elephants within fifty yards without being aware of their vicinity. The noise which we had heard and the rumbling sounds were caused by them. They thought it prudent to remain nearly still; and their plan was successful, as they were undiscovered by us.

We also saw that three or four elephants, that were feeding close to the spot from whence we had fired, had chased us for at least two hundred yards. Fortunately, one of the sharp turns which we had taken threw them out in the chase, and very probably saved us from being acquainted with the weight of their feet.

I must say that this little adventure somewhat cooled my ardour for a second meeting with these angry brutes. Interviews, however, frequently did again happen, as will be seen by the future pages.

Chapter Five.

Necessity of a gun—Strange footstep—A disappointment—Vicinity of the Umganie—Duiker buck—Matuan the Kaffir—Vocal telegraph—Reitbok—A human pointer—Singular conversation—Apathy of the residents—Kaffir messengers—Buck shooting—The buck’s tenacity of life—A buck on three legs—Dangerous country—A sporting red-coat—Strange sportsmen.

After this attack on and by the elephants, I devoted my time to the pursuit of the reit-buck (Eleotragus reduncus), the ourebi (Oreotragus scoparius), the duiker (Cephalophorus mergens), etc., all of them found within a few miles of Natal. As these days’ sport are, with little exception, repetitions of each other, and therefore possess interest only to the person concerned, I will select one or two incidents, that stand well out in my memory, as amongst the most interesting.

It is always advisable, in a country of this description, where the game wanders and its locality is uncertain, never to be out without a gun. You may wander for many miles and not see a single head of game in a country that ought to be teeming with it; but you may stroll out one hundred yards from your house and meet a noble buck who has come to take a peep at you. He, of course, will not accept your invitation to wait until you go in for your gun.

Scarcely an individual whom I ever met, and who had been long resident in Natal, did not remark some time or other to me, “Oh! if I had had my gun the other day, I would have shot so and so.” In time, also, the gun becomes no more troublesome to carry than a walking-stick.

I can mention many instances with regard to myself, where, not thinking it at all probable that I should see anything worth shooting, I left my gun at home. I have then had some teasing buck jump up in front of me, and stand looking for half a minute, as if quizzing me, at perhaps forty yards’ distance, and then quietly canter off. “Oh! if I had my gun,” I moodily exclaimed. At last, I was rarely seen without it. “Going out shooting?” was often asked me from this circumstance. “No; only for a walk, or a bathe,” I would answer. “Why have you your weapon, then?” was generally considered a cutting remark. Many a small pair of pointed horns, and many skins, would have answered the “why.” I generally came across something without looking for it.

The greatest annoyance that I met with from not having a gun was when riding one day, with an officer of the commissariat, on the beach between the Umganie and Natal Bay. I remarked some curious footprints on the sand, and dismounted to see what they were. I could not identify them, although I was well acquainted with most South-African trails. My friend called my attention to their impressions all along the sand, and far on ahead. As we looked in advance, we saw a large black object moving nearly half a mile before us. We started off immediately in chase, and soon neared it. I then saw that it was covered with long fur, had short legs in front, and a kind of finny organ behind. It appeared about ten feet long. Immediately it heard us galloping, it made for the water. We were going so fast that we could not pull up, and went past between the animal and the sea; so that before we could return it had gained the water, and, taking a look at us, dived and disappeared. Had I had my gun with me, I could have stalked to a spot within thirty yards of it, by means of the sand-hills near the beach, and a couple of bullets would no doubt have made us better acquainted. I described this animal to several people, but none had seen a creature like it. The Kaffirs had seen the spoor before, but had no name by which to designate it.

(I have since seen descriptions and paintings of a sea-lion that frequents some islands to the north-west of the Cape, and am inclined to think that this creature was a traveller of that species.)

The country across the Umganie river was thickly-wooded, but inland it was either open, or of that park-like description so common in many parts of Africa. About eight miles across this river an English settler lived, who had frequently asked me to put up at his house in case I went for a day’s shooting in his neighbourhood. I usually preferred availing myself of some Kaffir’s kraal; as the wild uncivilised native I found more agreeable company than the general class of English or Dutch emigrants: the naked savage was frequently the more gentlemanly fellow of the two. In the present instance, however, my host was an exception; he was an unassuming, hard-working man, and I accepted his proffered offer of a shake-down, with thanks.

I sent on one of my Kaffirs with my shooting-pony the previous day, and at daybreak, on a lovely morning in October, started from my tent for a day’s sport in this district. I had scarcely ridden half a mile from our encampment on the Natal flat, when I noticed a small animal jumping over some hushes that bordered the road about 150 yards in front. Upon reaching the road, it stopped, and looked at me, and I then saw that it was a duiker. I had placed a bullet in each barrel, and immediately took a shot at the buck. I saw that the animal stumbled as I fired, but it cantered on to a thick patch of bush on my right. I wanted to salute it with the second barrel on its coming out, but, after waiting half a minute or so without seeing it, I dismounted, and crept up to the bush. On peeping in, I saw the duiker, lying on his side. I made ready for a shot, and gave a loud whistle, but it did not move. Upon crawling into the bush, I found that the buck was quite dead, the bullet having gone through its ribs. I was not certain I had hit it at first, although, when I fired, I fancied I heard the “thud” of the bullet. I applied the knife, and carried the buck to the thick bush close by, where, selecting a forked tree in a shady dell, the venison was hung up. From information that I sent my Kaffirs, they called for it before sunset that evening. They were too late: the intense heat, although the venison hung in the shade, had placed the meat beyond even an epicure’s idea of what game should be.

I pursued my journey, and arrived soon after 8 a.m. at my host’s. I took some coffee and bread, the latter made from Indian corn, and soon after, mounting my shooting-pony, I started for a kraal that had been pointed out to me as the residence of an old Kaffir who was well acquainted with the hiding-places of the bucks that frequented this locality. I soon saw him, and found he was a man of about forty. It is, however, very difficult to judge of a Kaffir’s age; but he was rather grey, nearly six feet in height, very muscular, and without an ounce of superfluous fat. He was ready for sport at once, and recommended me to leave my pony to graze near his kraal, as the place where some reitboks were usually found, was so hilly and broken that he did not think a horse would be of much use. On our road to the ground which he had chosen as the most likely for game, he asked all sorts of questions about me, and volunteered much information about himself. He had committed that common sin amongst savages, of having too many cattle, which had raised the envy of his chief, who consequently accused him of witchcraft, and would have soon murdered him, had not the accused party made a bolt, and placed himself some sixty miles within the British boundary, but a beggar by comparison with his former condition. He seemed, however, contented, and had now a few cattle and goats.

This part of the country was plentifully watered, and the numerous ravines and marshy spots allowed the long reeds to escape the fires that perform the part of mowers once or twice a year. In the heat of the day the antelopes choose these cool retreats for shelter. The old Kaffir, who rejoiced in the name of Matuan, led me to the top of a slightly-wooded hill, and, pointing to an opposite ridge, nearly a mile distant, he said, “Nànqueer.”

(The Kaffir words that I have used throughout this work I believe are incorrect in their orthography. For the uninitiated, however, I thought it better to spell them as they sounded, as by adopting this plan, a more complete idea can be obtained of the sound of the Kaffir language.)

I looked in the direction indicated, and there saw a few goats feeding, and could plainly see a little Kaffir boy sitting beside them: the transparency of the air in these latitudes almost does away with the effect of distance. “May-na-bo!” then sang Matuan, resting very long on the may, in a singing sort of way; and, without any apparent exertion, a kind of shout from, the boy came thrilling through the air, like the voice of a distant bird. “Ou vel arpe umseke?” sung Matuan. “Empeshear kona,” thrilled the boy. Matuan, giving a grunt of approval, moved on. This I must translate to make intelligible:—the maynabo was to call the attention of the boy, a kind of “Holloa!” Ou vel arpe umseke? meaning, Where are the reitboks gone? Empeshear, indicating that they were over on the other side.

I have been frequently astonished at hearing the ease with which two Kaffirs will carry on a conversation when separated by distances that would be considered by us as entirely to interrupt verbal communication. This conversation is accomplished by the tone and modulations of the voice, as also the distinct divisions in the Kaffirs’ language.

We walked on for nearly two miles under a burning sun. The heat was intense, and my gun-barrels became so hot that it was with difficulty I could hold the gun. The annoyance from numerous flies and insects, whose bite was severe, added to the natural irritation that one sometimes feels on a hot day. Matuan soon showed me a long ravine, full of rushes and reeds, that looked a most likely place for a buck. We sat down beside a little rippling stream, while we refreshed ourselves with a draught of its pure water, and invigorated our spirits with a pinch of powerful snuff, without which no Kaffir is entirely happy. While we allowed time for these stimulants to produce their full effect, Matuan detailed to me his plan of operations. He said that he would go on the left of the ravine, and, keeping a little in advance of me, would shout and beat the reeds. This proceeding would probably cause the bucks, if there, to come out on the right-hand side, and run towards his kraal: he therefore recommended me to keep on the right side, and look out for my shot.

We started in the manner that he proposed, and had scarcely gone half-way up the ravine, when a doe reitbok sprang out of the cover, and cantered across in front of me at about eighty yards’ distance. I fired at her shoulder, and heard the bullet strike; she staggered and nearly fell, recovered again, reeled a few yards, and came to the ground to rise no more. Matuan shouted to me to look out for the ram; we waited a few seconds, when, not seeing him, I explained to the Kaffir that I should like to load. I had just placed the bullet on the powder, when the ram burst out of the reeds, and bounding away a few yards, stopped and looked full at me. I did not wait to cap the barrel that I had loaded, but aimed with my second. Just as I brought the gun to my shoulder, he gave a sharp clear sort of whistle to call his partner, and dashed off. I let fly at him as he went, and saw a hind-leg dangling useless and broken. Matuan rushed through the reeds, and was after him like a hound. I followed as quickly as I could, but, being encumbered with gun, bullets, etc., was, after a few minutes, “nowhere.” I got occasional glimpses of Matuan, who kept to the ridges of the hills, and had evidently the game continually in sight. I made several short cuts, and was only about two hundred yards behind the Kaffir, when he suddenly dropped as though he were shot, and thus slipping down the hill, commenced beckoning me furiously. When I reached him, he told me that the reitbok had just lain down in some long grass over the hill, “so far,” he said, pointing to a tree near.

I waited till I recovered my breath again, and having now both barrels loaded, I took off my hat, and, telling Matuan to keep quiet, crept up in the direction that he had indicated. Upon reaching the top of the hill, I slowly rose, and saw the wounded antelope standing on his three legs, looking straight at me. I aimed at the chest and fired; the buck reared straight up and fell over backwards. I knew there was not an ounce of life left in him, so I walked back to Matuan for my hat. The perspiration was pouring out of every pore of his swarthy hide and trickling over his face, as much from excitement as heat; and when he saw me thus quietly returning to him, a look of despair came over his face, and he said, “Yena mukile” (He has gone away). I merely said, “Hamba si hamba” (Let’s be going), and walked to where the buck lay, completely concealed by the length of the grass around him. Matuan soon saw the reitbok, and jumping in the air with delight, shouted “Wena shiele!” (You have killed him!) He then sat down beside the reitbok for full a minute, gazing with delight on the anticipated steaks and chops that he hoped would soon pass from outside the ribs of this animal to the inside of his own. He pushed his fingers into the two bullet-holes, and then waved his arm in indication of the dead doe behind us; then held up his three fingers, pointing two at the wounds in the buck before us, and waving one in the direction of the other animal shot, as much as to say “Three shots, all hit.” Then, as though he had satisfactorily decided an important question, he placed his hand horizontally across his mouth, looked steadily at me for half a minute, and said, “e-ar-nesa, wena inkosi” (In truth, you are a chief). Poor Matuan! he had not enjoyed such a feast of meat for many months as I gave him on that and the following night.

We were obliged to get aid from a neighbouring Kaffir’s kraal to convey the meat home, each buck being more than we could comfortably carry. I gave part of the venison to Matuan, and retained the remainder for the benefit of my host.

A curious incident here happened, which struck me at the time as very ridiculous.

A French emigrant was stopping at this house with my host, and being unable to speak a word of English, he had great difficulty in making his wants known. It happened that on leaving England I was a tolerable French scholar, and could manage to converse; but a year of disuse, and also the study of the Hottentot-Dutch and Zulu-Kaffir languages, had driven all my French away, and upon being thus suddenly called upon, I could scarce think of a word. This Frenchman had fortunately studied the Zulu language, by books during his voyage out, and by practice since his residence in Africa: we therefore carried on an interesting conversation in this language. It seemed curious that two white men, whose native countries so nearly joined, should be thus compelled to communicate in a tongue so little known in the native land of either; the Kaffirs themselves thought we were doing it merely for their amusement, and sat grinning first at us and then at one another.

On the following day I shot a reitbok, a duiker, and three corans.

Several days of good sport were yielded me in this neighbourhood. I found, however, that the bush close to Natal was teeming with buck, and a buffalo was sometimes seen there. Several unsuccessful journeys after the former taught me that more skill was required in shooting them than I at that time possessed. By patience, perseverance, and the instruction obtained from the Kaffirs, I at length acquired the art of moving with silence and watchfulness through the mazes of the forest, and was then rewarded by first-rate sport, and found this amusement one of the most fascinating in this country.

I have known many men who were good shots and able sportsmen, fail completely in the bush, from a deficiency in the qualities of patience and caution; several of whom have gone day after day, and returned, not only empty-handed, but without having seen a single head of game. Yet two or three Kaffirs or Hottentots that I could name would make certain of bagging a fine fat buck each day they devoted to the purpose, and over the very same ground that had been drawn a blank by the other sportsmen. It may be concluded, therefore, that some skill and experience is requisite in the bush-hunter of Africa. So plentiful was the game in the Natal district during my residence there in 1847, 1848, and 1849, that even around Pietermaritzburg, within a mile of the houses, I have shot bucks;—while partridges, pheasants, quail, and snipe were also common. But the use of the bullet against the larger animals is so fascinating a mode of sport, that it prevents the South-African sportsman from attending much to the feathered game, which are merely popped at for the purpose of putting them beside bread sauce and Cayenne pepper. Two or three strings of reh-boks were to be met with round the Pietermaritzburg hills, while reitbok and ourebis seemed to come in daily from the surrounding country for the sole purpose of supplying the gaps caused by the death of others of their species. There was a tolerable monopoly in the shooting line here that was curious. While the English traders, etc., still translated the national motto of “Honi soit qui mal y pense,” as “Slave away for money as long as you live,” the Dutchman merely saved his powder for a trip into the interior, and the gentlemen who had nothing to do for their living seemed to do nothing for their pleasure. The consequence was, that not half a dozen men were ever seen to go out shooting at all regularly. This may appear strange, when we consider the quantity and quality of the game; but, perhaps, the luxury of the climate relaxes the energies of those who may be long resident, and their greatest happiness, consequently, is repose; they thus wisely avoid many troubles and annoyances that more mercurial or enterprising temperaments may meet. Upon proceeding to Pietermaritzburg, I found that I had a pleasant little manor, extending for about fifteen miles in every direction, plentifully supplied with reitbok, ourebis, duikers, reh-bok, bustard, pheasant, partridge, guinea-fowl, and sometimes a wild-boar and a stray hyaena or leopard. I adopted an original plan for my day’s sport. Sending for one of my Kaffirs, I would give him a pound of beef and some snuff, and tell him to go on to the top of a hill which I would point out to him, and request that he kept me in sight all day. This hill would be some seven or eight miles distant. I would then send for another Kaffir and give him similar directions, pointing to a second hill, perhaps four miles from the first.

These Kaffirs, who worked for five shillings a month, and nearly found themselves, were capital fellows, and obeyed orders without a murmur. Sometimes, at Natal, I would call a Kaffir, and say, “So-and-So, tabata s’incwade, musi inglovu,” (this would be broken Kaffir for “Take this letter to Pietermaritzburg, wait for an answer, and come back”)—only fifty-three miles! In about ten minutes this Kaffir would be seen going off with a little skin-bag filled with corn, the letter carefully inserted in a split stick, whilst he occasionally worked his arms about in all the pleasant imaginary castle-building of knocking over enemies or wild beasts. In three days he would come back, with the single remark, “Fikile” (arrived), and deliver the answer to the note.

After starting the Kaffirs to their lookout stations, I could comfortably take my breakfast, do any business that was required, and then mount my horse and canter out to the ground that might have been selected for that particular day’s sport. Then riding through the long grass, and beating up the ravines, the antelope would soon be bounding away in all directions. Now came the sport. The grass being nearly five feet long, it was necessary to fire from the saddle, and it was very pretty to see the shooting-pony, with an instinct almost equal to reason, following the dog in every turn, and doing so without a touch of the reins, standing also like a rock when a buck sprang up. Away the antelope would rush, making (if an ourebi) perpendicular leaps of at least two yards in the air, and then scouring over the plain. But a quick messenger would soon be after him, and the sound of the bullet striking would be frequently the only indication of a successful aim. The buck might drop-dead if struck in the neck, the shoulder, or the kidneys; if in other parts, he frequently galloped off with a doubled-up and cramped action. The hitherto quiet dog would then come out in a new character, and give chase to the buck, while the pony would have to do his best to live with the two. A mile or so would decide the thing. Upon the buck being vanquished, no trouble was then taken in cleaning him; the pony is off-saddled,—immediately takes a roll, and commences grazing, while dog and man look out for the nearest stream of water to obtain a drink and to cool themselves from the effects of the burning sun.

In about half an hour one of my Kaffirs would be seen jogging over a hill, and making his way straight down to the dead antelope. He cleans it, and, if it is too heavy for him to carry alone, seeks for aid in the nearest kraal, distant sometimes three or four miles; by signalling, he saves himself great part of the journey. The half of the buck would be an ample reward for the service of an additional man; and the venison is thus sent home, while the pony is saddled, and the sport again proceeded with.

During the first fortnight that I was engaged at this sport I shot only three bucks, although out eight times, and having several fair shots each day. I thought that I was bewitched, and had suddenly an attack of the crooked eye; but, upon mentioning in confidence to a friend, Major K— (as perfect a gentleman and gallant a sportsman as ever trod on African soil), what had happened, he told me that very probably I had wounded many more of these animals, but that they had dropped when out of sight. He proposed going out with me one day, an offer that I was delighted to accept;—and I may here mention that many of my earliest and best instructions were received from him. When riding a few hundred yards from Major K—, I fired at a fine ram reitbok, that got up about fifty yards in advance. I thought I saw a little lurch in his action as the bullet went by; but, not observing any other sign, I remained for an instant quite still. Major K— then called out, “After him,” with which direction I complied, and followed in the buck’s wake for fully half a mile. He seemed to be going quite comfortably, and I began to think there was no use in thus pursuing, when he stopped and looked at me. I jumped off my horse, and was quickly on the ground; but the buck was down first. I ran up to him, and found that my bullet had entered the back without touching the bone or principal muscles, had passed through his body, and come out in the breast; he was bleeding at the mouth, and lay quite dead. Major K—, on coming up, told me that this apparent toughness as regarded life was, during his experience, by no means an uncommon thing. The secret of the crooked eye was now explained, and I afterwards made a practice of watching for a considerable time bucks that I had fired at, unless I was perfectly certain that I had missed them. So tough were some of these reitbok, that a gentleman once told me that he thought, after the first bullet, all others seemed to do them good. It was not quite as bad as this, although the following instance that happened to myself may give an idea of their tenacity of life.

I sighted a buck, and saw him lie down in some long grass. Leaving my pony at some distance, I stalked up to the buck; he rose, and afforded me a fair shot at twenty yards. I gave him a dose of buckshot near the shoulder, which knocked him over. He jumped up again instantly, and went away on three legs. Not having my dog with me, I ran back to my pony, and mounting him, galloped to the hill over which the buck had disappeared. I looked all round, but could discover no signs whatever of the reitbok. I held up my hand, in order to find which way the little wind that there was happened to be blowing, and, riding with my head to the wind, went nearly a mile without seeing a sign of the buck. I was about making a fresh cast, when I noticed a few reeds on ahead; I went towards them, and, upon getting within one hundred yards, saw my wounded buck jump up and gallop off. With his three legs he could beat my pony’s four. So I pulled up, and tried a long shot at him. He got it in the stern, stumbled, recovered, and held on. I loaded, and kept him in sight, thinking he would certainly drop. But no such luck; he staggered along, and was getting away from me, when I saw that he was going down a steep hill at a pace as though he had his legs sound. At the bottom of this hill there was a large watercourse, about twenty feet wide and ten deep. He could not stop himself when he saw this in front, owing to having but one front leg sound, but tried to leap it. This he failed in doing by a long way, and dropped with a crash to the bottom of the ravine. My pony had been much interested in the chase, and was nearly following suit by rushing into this watercourse. As I was going at speed down the hill, and had my gun in my right hand, I could with difficulty pull him up with my left. I jumped off, and ran to the edge of the ravine, where I saw the reitbok trying vainly to leap up the steep bank. I gave him a third shot, which dropped him dead. It was astonishing to see with what wounds he had held on; the dose of buckshot had made his shoulder look as though it suffered from a severe attack of smallpox; and the second bullet had gone half through him,—a raking shot. Some Kaffirs who were passing soon after conveyed him home for me; and he proved to be, by scale, one of the heaviest bucks that had been shot near Pietermaritzburg for some time. Upon telling this to a facetious friend who came to look at the trophy, he said that it was no wonder, considering the quantity of lead that was in him.

I had several very pretty courses after wounded buck around the country near this village, or town as the Natalians would like it called. On one occasion, by keeping the hills, I saw my dog follow and pull down very neatly a wounded reh-bok. This dog would occasionally point, but, having a good dash of the foxhound in him, he made a useful servant-of-all-work.

If I shot a large reitbok, and could not obtain assistance from Kaffirs to convey him home, or found him too heavy to lift on to my pony, I used to take the two haunches, and pass the girths through a slit cut between the back sinews of each leg and the bone, and thus mount them astride behind the saddle, leaving the remainder of the venison either to be sent for afterwards, or as an offering to the jackals, etc.

I was walking one day about the kloofs near this town, when I heard a noise like running water; I listened attentively, and was convinced I heard its ripple, although the ground was apparently unbroken. Approaching carefully through the grass, I came suddenly to the mouth of a naturally-formed pit about forty feet deep, with a stream running through it at the bottom; the aperture was only about eight feet wide, and quite concealed by long grass; but below, it opened out considerably. This was a nice sort of place to fall into when galloping after a buck, or making a short cut at night. There is no one here to stick up a post with “dangerous” on it, or to hang a lantern near a hole of this description at night. In twelve hours, were any accident to happen, one’s very bones would be picked and ground to powder by the hyaenas, vultures, jackals, etc. There are many of these holes in Africa, although some are not quite so bad as the one I have described; they are still quite dangerous enough, and serve in a gallop to keep up the excitement, as well as an “in and out” or a “stiff rail,” in an English fox-hunt.

I witnessed a most amusing scene on the hills, about eight miles from Pietermaritzburg.

As I was sitting down one day to allow my horse his rest and feed, I noticed a red-coated gentleman riding along in the valley below, and soon saw that he was a non-commissioned officer of the regiment quartered at the time at Natal; he had a gun, and was evidently out taking his pleasure, on leave for a day’s sport. He drew all the kloofs and grass that I had tested half an hour before, unconsciously passing over my plainly written horse’s footmarks, with a laudable perseverance that deserved success. Presently an eagle or large hawk flew past, and settled some distance on ahead; red-coat followed, and, when near the spot, tried to keep his horse steady; it did not seem to quite understand the matter, and decidedly refused to stand still. A little of the bullying usually practised by unskilled riders then commenced; he spurred the animal, and then chucked it in the mouth with the sharp curb; strange to say, this proceeding failed in making the stupid equus more quiet. At last the man dismounted, and, carefully drawing the reins over its head, and taking the saddle off, he looked at his steed in a kind of suspicious way, but left it standing, and proceeded to stalk the eagle. He got up pretty close, when the bird flew away; he took aim, and—bang, bang!—produced not even the effect of ruffling a feather. Loading his gun, this unsuccessful marksman now returned to the horse, which, giving a shake of its head, turned round and walked quietly away. I heard shouts of “Wo! wo!” sent after the horse, with a heavy charge of strong language to propel them; still the animal did not seem to understand; the soldier’s walk became a run, and so the horse galloped, and won the race easily, kicking up its heels in the excess of its joy. This was more than the warrior’s temper could stand; he had missed the bird, but he thought he could manage the horse. Hot and enraged, he pulled up, and let fly both barrels at his charger. He seemed to have made a better shot this time, as the horse gave a jump, and started at speed towards home, while the soldier had the satisfaction of carrying his saddle for about eight miles under a burning sun, on a day when the thermometer would have shown 95 degrees in the shade. I would have given anything to have heard how this Nimrod described his day’s sport to his comrades on his return home. Another somewhat similar case occurred about this time, with the exception that the gentleman killed his horse, instead of merely driving him home; and the strangest fact was, that this representative of his stud was nearly the only animal that he did kill with a gun during his residence in Africa.

After an emigrant ship arrived, strange sportsmen sometimes were seen about the Natal bush, armed with an old gun, and clothed in cast-off garments that smacked more of Whitechapel than of African build; they would prowl about the roads in lots of two or three, shooting from their one gun by turns, at the small birds that had hitherto been left in peace. I once saw a couple of men watching in intense excitement for a shot at some poor monkeys, and utterly unconscious that half a dozen wild elephants were smashing the bush in rage, from a wound given to one of the herd by my bullet, not a couple of hundred yards from them.

Chapter Six.

Eland-hunting—Beautiful country—Telescopic eyes—Loading at a gallop—The Dutch Boers—Speed of the eland—Eland-hunt—Unsuccessful result—Signals of distress—African Nimrods—A herd of elands—Better luck this time—An accident—The Slough of Despond—A “Sticks bullet”—In at the death—A bivouac—Air-pillows.

At the cold season of the year the Dutchmen are in the habit of making excursions into the uninhabited plains in search of the large herds of elands and hartebeest that are there found. These excursions are made for the purpose of obtaining a supply of meat, which is dried and salted: the Boers thereby save their cattle from the knife. The plains under the Draakensberg Mountains, and near the sources of the Mooi river, were very frequent hunting-grounds of the Boers who lived near the Bushman’s river. Some of these farmers I had met on former occasions, and in consequence received an invitation to join their party, which consisted of Kemp, Pretorius, and five others: we had three waggons amongst us, and nearly two dozen horses: many Kaffirs and Hottentots also accompanied us. The country in which we purposed to hunt was covered with a most beautiful undulating turf.

Late in the autumn of the year the grass, which grows to a great length, is set on fire either by the Boers or by the Bushmen; tribes of the latter living near, in the Draakensberg Mountains. The ashes of the consumed grass make a good manure, and, after a shower of rain, the young tender grass springs up, and causes the whole plain to look glassy and brilliant, much like a vast green velvet carpet. The antelopes scent the fragrance from afar, and come many miles to graze; they then fall easy victims to the unerring aim of the Bushman’s arrow or the Dutchman’s rifle.

The air in this neighbourhood was particularly balmy and pure, cooled by its transit over the high peaks of the Draakensberg, that already bore traces of snow in many parts; little cascades could be seen glistening like silver wire in the different kloofs or ravines that were formed by the spurs of the mountains. These ravines were well wooded; many fine trees grew in them, the underwood being thick and matted, as is usually the case in Africa, affording a secure retreat to some angry old bull-buffalo, an exile from his family. It is well to have one’s weapons and nerves in order, if this old hermit is to be bearded in his den.

Here also bush-buck, and very many of the feathered tribe are found, the latter having brilliancy of plumage in place of the gift of song. A most useful thing to have in this country is a field-telescope, as it enables one to obtain a good view of all the distant details, and thereby frequently saves one a journey after imaginary animals.

The Boers, however, made out everything wonderfully well with the naked eye; they had rules that experience had taught them; and these rules almost supplied the place of the “far-seer,” as they call the telescope.

“What is there?” one of the Boers would exclaim, pointing to an object about four miles distant, and on a slight elevation. Before I had obtained the correct focus of my glass, the object would by them be decided as a hartebeest, without two opinions about it. If I looked through my glass, I always found that their decision was correct. Upon asking how they could know an animal at such a distance, they answered by giving me a great deal of valuable information, amongst which I remembered the following as the most useful:—Elands always look light fawn-coloured when they turn, whereas hartebeest look red, buffaloes black; these three animals being the most commonly met with in these plains. The wild-boar (the “vleck vark” of the Dutch) is told by its dark colour, and because it is not so large about the head and shoulders as a buffalo; besides, four or five are generally found together. When the sportsman becomes acquainted with the habits of the animals, the positions which they occupy, as also their way of moving, will generally show to what class the game belongs.

All the antelopes on the flats start off, when alarmed, with their heads to the wind; they like to know what is in front of them, and, having good noses, they can discover danger better by this course.

When a herd of animals are seen on a large flat, the hunter should not ride at them immediately; he should first obtain a weatherly position, which will insure him a good start when the animals begin to move. Before alarming a herd, an after-rider should be sent away to the distance, and directed to approach the game so as to drive them towards the hunter. When a herd start off, the hunter can gradually approach them, taking care, however, that he does not ride in front, as they will then turn in a different direction. When he is within shot, he can jump off his horse, fire, and remount, loading as he rides, and taking care not to follow in the rear of the retreating herd, but to move off to the right or left, and then gallop forward: by this means the distance lost is sooner regained, as the animals do not then go on so rapidly. It is better to keep a herd on the right hand; the hunter, after dismounting, is then behind his horse, and the game consequently are not so much alarmed.

The best plan for loading at a gallop is to place the butt of the gun between the left knee and the saddle; the ramrod side being nearest the body, the left hand (in which also the reins must be held) should hold the gun at about six inches from the muzzle; the right hand is thus free, and therefore can be used for loading.

The pockets of the waistcoat that are used for ammunition should be all on the right-hand side, and lined with leather. A couple of bullets are recommended by some sportsmen to be carried in the mouth, as they can then be readily used, and do not require wadding, if fired immediately they drop upon the powder. This plan I never tried, as I did not like the risk of having a couple of such pills suddenly jerked down my throat, after a flight, spread-eagle fashion, half a dozen yards over one’s horse’s head. There are so many blind-holes, and other reasons for horses suddenly coming down, and turning completely over with their riders, that the Dutch ride with very long stirrup-leathers, and put just the end of their toes in the stirrups, so as to be ready for such a contingency.

We had proceeded nearly three hours without a rest, and, as it was not usual to travel beyond that time, a halt was called; the horses were off-saddled, knee-haltered, and allowed to take their much-enjoyed roll, and to pick up a mouthful of grass; the oxen were unyoked, and turned out to graze; some dried wood was collected from a neighbouring kloof, some fires lighted, coffee ready, and pipes in full glory in a very few minutes. Most of these Dutchmen were well-to-do farmers, fat, jolly fellows, with apparently no care, enjoying everything they possessed, and wanting nothing more; they were good riders, excellent shots, and very handy men in the field. In education and refinement they were certainly limited; they were more au fait at spooring an elephant and skinning an eland than in solving an equation or making a polite speech; but for good-hearted, dirty, free-and-easy fellows, their equals were rarely to be met with. If a man desires to see the wild parts of a country and its sports, he cannot always have the refinements or the luxuries of civilised life at hand.

Upon continuing our journey, the Dutchmen each made one of their thinnest specimens of humanity, in the shape of a young Hottentot, mount a spare horse, and follow with a rifle. These skinny fellows were useful during a long run to provide a remount, or to turn any herd of game that was not taking a convenient direction. We were now in the game country, and had therefore to keep a good lookout all round.

The elands are well-known in England, several fine specimens being in the Regent’s Park Zoological Gardens. No idea of their activity can be formed from their appearance in that confined space. Give them a good run, and they would nearly leap over the palings that there surround them. Their usual pace when alarmed, is a long trot, at which they can go sixteen or seventeen miles in an hour. It is easy to ride up to them on a level and unbroken plain; but when a steep hilly country with large loose bits of rock, or heavy ground, happens to be the hunting fine, it is a far different matter; they rush down the steep hills like an avalanche, making prodigious leaps to clear the large stones in their course. On rising ground the horseman has the advantage over them, but not enough to enable him to regain what he loses during the descent.

We were all riding along a little ridge which gradually sloped into the plains to our right, and dipped precipitously into a valley on our left; when a cry of “Look, look! eland’s bull!” brought us all to a stand. In the plain to our right a large animal was seen pounding away, kicking up the dust in clouds as he went. If he continued his present course, I saw that he would pass over the ridge on which we then were, and at about half a mile in front of us. Taking a look at my gun, therefore, to see that all was right, I let drop the spurs into my pony and galloped forward. One of the Dutchmen then called to me to stop, and, fearing I might be infringing some rule, I pulled up, but soon found that the Boers had been obliged to wait until their after-riders could bring up their guns; and it was to obtain a fair start that they had detained me.

In consequence of this delay we were all fully two hundred yards distant when the eland crossed the ridge and dashed down the steep slope on our left. He showed such a splendid pair of horns as he passed, that the Boers compared them to a koodoo’s. We were all obliged to dismount and lead our horses down the hill, although the antelope had rushed down like a cricket-ball.

A party of nine Boers were now mounted, and started off in chase. There was a great deal of lee-way to be pulled up, and the country was also very much against us; the hill-sides were covered with large loose stones, and the valleys in many places were so soft and boggy that the horses sank knee-deep in the mud. As I was descending one of the slopes, I thought I could see the eland inclining a little to the right: instead, therefore, of going with the remaining Boers down the hill, I kept along the ridge, thereby saving several hills, and a long course, if the game held on to his new line of country. The long grass and loose stones were unfavourable for galloping, so I nursed my horse for a turn of speed over the flat that I could see in advance.