African Nature Notes and Reminiscences

CHAPTER XV

That was nearly forty years ago now, and Matabeleland was less known and more inaccessible then than is any part of Central Africa to-day, for at that time not a yard of railway had been laid from any coast town of the Cape Colony or Natal towards the interior of the country. Lo Bengula, a powerful chief of Zulu race, had but recently been elected king of the Matabele, and savagery seemed so firmly established throughout all the territory between the Limpopo and the Zambesi that I never dreamt I should live to see the destruction of that great chief's far-reaching power, and the defeat and dispersal of his brave but barbarous tribesmen, to be quickly followed by the founding of a European town near the site of the old native "great place," and the building of a railway through the wilderness to the north.

Ah! but the old days were the best, after all—or at any rate I think so. The traveller by rail to the Victoria Falls will journey at his ease, it is true, in a saloon carriage, with plenty to eat and drink, through seemingly endless wastes of low forest and scrubby bush, and will probably think it a terribly monotonous and uninteresting country; but no man will ever again sit by a camp fire near one of the little rivers the railway will cross, eating prime pieces of fat elephant's heart, roasted on a forked stick, nor watch the great white rhinoceroses coming to drink just before dark, nor lie and listen to herd after herd of elephants drinking and bathing in the river near their camp. On one particular night in 1873 which I shall never forget, the splashing and trumpeting of troop after troop of hot and thirsty elephants was kept up from soon after dark till long past midnight. This was at the little river Sikumi, which the traveller of to-day will cross by an iron bridge. There was no monotony about the country between Bulawayo and the Victoria Falls in those days. The abundance of big game—elephants, black and white rhinoceroses, giraffes, buffaloes, zebras, and many varieties of antelopes—made it always interesting alike to the hunter and the lover of nature. As I think of my early wanderings through those once well-stocked hunting-grounds in the days when I made my living by shooting elephants, I can recall many interesting experiences, some of a decidedly exciting nature, others only curious. I never had any narrow escapes from rhinoceroses, although I encountered numbers of these prehistoric-looking animals, but I do not think that the black rhinoceros of the interior of South Africa was ever of so aggressive a nature as he appears to be in many districts of East Africa to-day, though a wounded one was always likely to become savage.

One night in 1873, when camped on the borders of the hills which skirt the southern bank of the Zambesi to the east of the Victoria Falls, a white rhinoceros came to inspect my camp about an hour after dark. I had had my evening meal, and was sitting talking by a cheery log fire to one of my native attendants—for I had no white companion—when we heard a rhinoceros snort not far away, and soon afterwards, by the light of a young moon, we perceived one of these animals slowly approaching our camp. I told my boys to keep quite quiet, and we then sat watching our visitor. It advanced very slowly, holding its great square nose close to the ground, and every now and then stopped and snorted loudly. At last it was within twenty yards of our fires, and seemed determined to come closer still. Several of my Kafirs had by this time crept round to the back of the bushes which sheltered our camp and made for the nearest tree, whilst my favourite gun-carrier put my big four-bore elephant gun into my hands, and begged me to shoot the inquisitive beast before it charged in amongst us.

But in those days I was hunting elephants for a living, and as we were camped near a favourite drinking-place of these animals, and a shot in the night might have disturbed a herd approaching the water, I was determined not to fire at the rhinoceros if I could possibly avoid doing so.

However, something had to be done to stop it, as I was afraid that if it came any nearer the smell of meat might excite it, and cause it to run amuck through the camp; so, plucking a good-sized piece of wood from the fire, I threw it with all my strength, and, just missing the rhinoceros's great ugly head, hit it on the neck or shoulder, and covered it with a shower of sparks. As the blazing brand fell to the ground, the rhinoceros backed a step or two and then seemed to be sniffing at it. At this moment my gun-carrier hurled another lump of burning wood at our visitor, with a somewhat better aim than mine, for he struck it full in the face—apparently right on the front horn—and lit up its head with a cataract of sparks. This was more than the rhinoceros could stand, and its curiosity being evidently fully satisfied, it spun round with a snort, and trotted off into the night, nor did it ever visit our camp again.

I had approached to within twenty yards or so of the sleeping animals, and had just raised myself to a sitting position for a shot from behind a small bush, when one of them, which I saw from the thickness of its horns was the bull, stood up, and commenced to walk slowly towards my very inadequate shelter. I do not think that it had any suspicion of my presence, but it was soon within ten yards of the little bush behind which I sat, and as it was still walking slowly towards me it was necessary to do something.

As its head was held in such a position that it covered its whole chest, I resolved to try and fire so as just to miss its horns, and strike it in the front of the head above the eyes. Even if I did not succeed in doing this, but hit one of its horns instead, which was very likely, considering the clumsy weapon I was using, I thought that the shock caused by the heavy bullet would be sure to discompose my opponent sufficiently to give me time to run back to the Kafirs and get my second gun before it thought of charging.

When I fired, the rhinoceros's legs seemed to give way under it, and it just sank to the ground, and then, rolling on to its side, lay quite still, and, as I thought, dead. "Tutu," shouted the Kafirs from behind me, meaning "It's done for," and all of them came running up, the cow having jumped up and made off immediately I fired at her companion.

We now all walked together to where the fallen animal lay apparently quite dead. My four-ounce round bullet had made a large hole in the front of its head, into which I and several of the Kafirs pushed our fingers as far as they would go. We then went to the nearest tree, some sixty or seventy yards away, and after resting my two elephant guns—the one still unloaded—against its stem, and placing all our scanty baggage on the ground in its shade, returned to cut up what we believed to be the carcase of a dead animal.

One of my Kafirs, by name Soga, a big strong Makalaka, at once plunged his assegai into the body of the prostrate rhinoceros and commenced to cut through the thick skin, pulling the blade of the assegai towards him with a sawing motion. This incision should have extended from near the top of the back behind the shoulder-blade to the bottom of the chest, and would have been the first step in peeling the whole hide from the upper surface of the body, preparatory to disembowelling the carcase and cutting up the meat; but when Soga had made a cut about two and a half feet long in its side, the limbs of the rhinoceros began to move spasmodically, and it suddenly raised its head and brought it down again with a thump on the ground.

From that moment it commenced to struggle frantically, and was evidently fast regaining consciousness. I shouted to Soga to try and stab it in the heart before it got on its legs; but as he only made a very feeble attempt to do so, I ran up, and snatching the assegai from him, endeavoured to stab the struggling animal to death myself. But it was now fast regaining strength, and with every effort to rise it threw up its head and brought it down on the ground again with a thump.

I managed to plunge the heavy assegai through the cut in its skin and deep into its side, but with a sudden spasmodic movement it broke the shaft in two, leaving a short piece attached to the blade sticking in its body. In another moment it was standing on its legs, but kept reeling about like a drunken man. I now ran to the tree where the guns had been left, and taking the loaded one, aimed a shot at the still staggering rhinoceros, but, as not infrequently happened in the old muzzle-loading days, it missed fire I quickly put on a fresh cap, but as that missed fire too, I concluded that the nipple had got stopped up in some way, and so took up the gun with which I had originally wounded the rhinoceros, and commenced to reload it in frantic haste.

Just as I got the bullet rammed down, however, and before I could put the cap on the nipple, the rhinoceros, which all this time had been making a series of short runs, first in one direction and then in another, but had always been quite close to us, started off in a straight line, putting on more pace at every step; and although we ran as hard as we could, we never overtook it, and I did not fire at it again. My bullet no doubt passed above the animal's brain-pan, and must have lodged in the muscles of its neck, only stunning it temporarily; but it really seemed to be absolutely dead for so long a time after falling to the ground, that its recovery and eventual escape, after receiving a four-ounce bullet through the upper part of the head, and having a gash cut in its side at least two feet long, not to mention a deep stab in the region of the heart, is, I think, one of the most remarkable incidents I have ever witnessed during a long experience of African hunting.

Another equally curious, but far more exasperating experience occurred to me early in May 1877, when I was hunting with two friends, Dorehill and Kingsley, on one of the tributaries of the river Daka, about sixty miles to the south of the Victoria Falls of the Zambesi. At the time of which I am writing buffaloes literally swarmed all over this part of the country, and it was in order to shoot a few of these animals and lay in a supply of good fat meat, that we had left our waggons standing at a place known as the Baobab vley, and made an excursion to the east, necessarily on foot because of the tse-tse fly. Both buffaloes and tse-tse flies, I may say, ceased to exist in this district long long ago.

One evening I was coming home, and within a mile of camp—all my Kafirs and Bushmen carrying heavy loads of meat cut from two fat buffalo cows which I had shot during the day—when, whilst we were passing through a thick patch of scrubby thorn bush, a shot was fired a short distance to our right, immediately followed by a loud purring growl; then all was quiet again.

Calling to my Bushman gun-carrier to keep close, I ran in the direction of the sound, and soon came upon Kingsley quite alone and looking rather scared. Having a sore heel, he had remained in camp; but it appeared that having seen a buffalo bull crossing the open valley on the other side of which our camp was situated, he had gone after it all by himself. Being quite strange to the country and knowing nothing about hunting, Kingsley had lost sight of the buffalo amongst the thorn scrub, and not being able to follow its tracks, was making his way back to camp, when he suddenly saw an animal moving through the bush about twenty yards ahead of him, which he took to be an impala antelope, as he could only see it very indistinctly. He immediately fired at it through the scrub, when, to his horror, a lioness thrust her head into the open, and staring fixedly at him, gave a low growl. Kingsley said he stood quite still, but was afraid to reload his rifle or make any movement for fear of further exciting the savage-looking animal. The latter, however, after having gazed steadily at him for a few moments, turned and trotted off.

We now examined the place where the lioness had been standing when Kingsley fired at her, but could find no blood, and I have no doubt that he missed her. We then tried to track her; but her soft feet had left so little trace on the hard ground that even my Bushmen could not follow it, so we gave it up and all returned to camp together.

As I took my rifle from the Bushman who had been carrying it, I saw that the hammer was gone. This rifle was a single-barrelled ten-bore, with under lever action and a hammer. On examining it, I found that the screw that had held the hammer in place on the tumbler had evidently worked loose and fallen out, with the result that the hammer had dropped off. Now I felt sure that just before I had heard Kingsley's shot I had seen the hammer on the rifle, and believed that it must have fallen off whilst we were running a distance of not more than four hundred yards. I was very much annoyed at the prospect of having my favourite rifle put out of action indefinitely, although the Bushmen were confident that they would be able to find the lost hammer the next day. They said they would follow the tracks of my gun-carrier and myself, where we had been running, inch by inch on their hands and knees, burning the scanty grass as they went along. In spite of their confidence, I must say I had very little hope that they would be successful, and lay down to sleep that night with a heavy heart, for I thought that my well-tried and favourite rifle would have to be laid on the shelf for the remainder of the year.

On the following day, after having sent my gun-carrier and two other Bushmen to look for the hammer of my rifle, Dorehill and I went out hunting, leaving Kingsley in charge of the camp. On this occasion I took with me, in place of my ten-bore, a single-barrelled eight-bore weapon, which I had often used before, as I had only lately sold it to Dorehill. This rifle was fitted with a hair trigger, which one set by pushing the trigger forwards. I knew that my friend had taken the lock of this rifle to pieces, and cleaned and oiled it just before we left the waggons, but I did not know that he had done anything more than this. It afterwards turned out, however, that he had, as he said, "just touched the detenter" with a fine file, but unfortunately had taken enough off it to throw the mechanism connected with the hair trigger out of order. This, however, I only found out to my sorrow later on.

About two hours after we had left camp, we emerged from the open forest, with which most of the country was covered, upon a broad open valley, devoid of bush, but covered with a thick growth of yellow grass some four feet high. This open valley was bounded on its further side by a rocky ridge some twenty feet in height, which formed the edge of a level expanse of country covered with small scattered trees, and a very scanty growth of fine grass, of quite a different character to that growing in the valley below. Down the centre of the open ground ran a small stream of water, a tributary of the Daka river. We had just crossed this stream, and were within fifty yards of the steep ridge that bounded the further side of the valley, when two of our Kafirs, who had been after a honey-bird, and who were coming diagonally towards us through the long grass, and had just reached the stream about one hundred yards below us, suddenly shouted out "Isilouan, isilouan!" ("Lions, lions!"), and came running towards us. Seizing the eight-bore rifle from the shoulder of the Kafir who was carrying it just behind me, I ran towards them, calling out, "Where are they? Which way have they gone?" "They jumped out of the bed of the stream," they replied, "and went forward through the grass towards the ridge."

I did not wait to hear anything more, but ran to the ridge as hard as I could, closely followed by the Kafir who had been carrying my rifle. Climbing quickly to the top, I turned and looked eagerly for the lions, which I had hoped to be able to see from my vantage-ground in the grass below me. But I saw nothing, and so began to walk quickly along the edge of the low bluff, keeping my eyes as wide open as possible. Suddenly I heard a slight noise a little ahead of me, as of a small stone being moved; and turning my eyes in the direction of the sound, saw a lioness just emerging from the grass at the foot of the ridge. She was on a little game-path, and evidently intending to come up to the higher ground where I was standing; so, whispering the one word "aima" ("stand") to the Kafir behind me—a good staunch boy—I remained perfectly still, scarcely daring to breathe. The lioness walked slowly upwards and was immediately followed by a fine lion. One behind the other, these two magnificent brutes strolled leisurely up the steep path until they stood on the level ground above.

Just as they came to the top, the lion walked partially behind the lioness, whose hind-quarters then covered most of his head and shoulders. I don't think I was more than from twenty to thirty yards away from them, and there was not a bush or anything else between us but a scanty crop of short grass less than a foot in height, yet neither of them seemed at first to notice anything. I, on my part, remained absolutely motionless, not wishing to fire until I could get a clear view of the lion. After they had walked broadside on to me, for perhaps fifteen yards from the edge of the bluff, the lioness stopped, and turning her head, looked towards where I and the Kafir stood. The lion took another step or two forwards, and then also stopped and looked at us. They were standing exactly broadside on to me, close alongside of one another, the lion perhaps a foot in advance, so that he looked at us from just beyond his companion's head.

Now was my opportunity, and did ever hunter have such a chance before, I wonder? The eight-bore elephant rifle I carried could certainly have driven a bullet through two lions, and had I hit the lioness in the middle of the shoulder—and at thirty yards I could hardly have helped doing so—the bullet would have passed clean through her, and caught the lion just behind the shoulders, an equally fatal shot, as it would have passed through the big blood-vessels of both lungs. My rifle was already on full cock and the hair trigger set, and, raising it to my shoulder, I took a cool and careful aim and pulled the trigger. Click went the hammer, and just came down to the half-cock. This performance I repeated at least half-a-dozen times, but always with the same result.

All this time the lions stood perfectly still, watching me quietly and in rather a sleepy kind of way. Then the lioness walked forwards again, closely followed by her companion, but after taking a few steps they broke into a trot, which soon changed to a heavy lumbering canter. I ran after them as hard as I could, but soon lost sight of them amongst some small bushy shrubs.

Running into and through these bushes, I found myself close to the edge of the bluff again which skirted the open grass valley, for the lions had run round in a half-circle. Feeling sure they had descended to the lower ground, I ran on to the edge of the ridge, and at once saw the lion standing just below me at the foot of the bluff, and close to the edge of the long grass. The lioness I could not see. I don't think the lion was ten yards away from me. He had evidently heard me coming, and stood quite still looking at me whilst I tried three times to fire at him, but the hammer would not go beyond the half-cock.

Then realising my helplessness, and mad with rage and mortification, I caught my useless rifle by the barrel with both hands and threw it at the lion below me. It clattered down amongst the stones close to him, causing him to throw up his tail with a loud purr and disappear into the long grass. The rifle, though somewhat bruised and dinted, was not much the worse for its fall. I think this episode is about the worst piece of bad luck I have ever met with. No such chance of shooting two lions at one shot had ever been offered to me before or has ever occurred since, and it was surely the very irony of fate that this unique opportunity should have fallen to my lot on the one and only day when my favourite old ten-bore was useless to me, for the Bushmen not only found the hammer which I had lost the day before but the little screw that held it on the tumbler as well!

CHAPTER XVI

Towards the end of May 1884, I was travelling westwards through the uninhabited stretch of wilderness which lies between the Gwai and the Botletlie rivers. I had a roomy waggon for a home, a good span of oxen, some spare cattle and milch cows, and three salted[19] shooting horses. I had bade good-bye a month previously to the few Englishmen who were at that time living near the native town of Bulawayo, and was not destined to see another white face or hear my mother-tongue spoken for many months to come. My servants were a Griqua waggon-driver, a lad of the same nationality who looked after the horses, and two Kafir boys. But, besides these, I had with me, at the time of which I am writing, a few Masarwa Bushmen, who had accompanied me in the hope of getting a supply of game meat, and whom I found very useful as guides from one pool of water to another, as well as to clear a path for the waggon by chopping down small trees and bushes wherever this was necessary; for we were travelling across country, towards the setting sun, without a road or track of any kind, where never a waggon had passed before.

One afternoon, leaving the Bushmen with the waggon, as there were a few bushes and small trees to be chopped down here and there, I rode on ahead, telling them to follow on my horse's tracks. After having ridden slowly forwards for about an hour and a half through country sparsely covered with low bushes and small trees, I waited until the waggon came in sight, and then rode on again. About an hour before sunset, I found myself approaching a deep depression in the ground, around which grew several large trees. Feeling sure that this hollow would prove to hold a good supply of water, I rode towards it, and suddenly caught sight of the head of a tsessebe antelope through the fringe of long grass which surrounded the pool. I immediately ducked down, and slipping off my horse's back, left him standing in the long grass, and crawled cautiously forwards.

On reaching the edge of the cup-shaped hollow, I saw beneath me a deep pool of water, some thirty yards in diameter, and between the circumference of the water and the ring of long grass which grew all round the top edge of the hollow was a piece of sloping ground some ten yards in width, free of grass or any vegetation whatever. On this bare ground, just opposite to me, stood two tsessebe antelopes. They were both standing motionless, with their heads turned away from me. Being on sloping ground, their hind-quarters were lower than their shoulders. I had not seen an antelope of any size for some days, and wanted meat badly for my native servants and dogs, and much regretted that my rifle was not a double-barrelled one, so that I might have secured them both.

One of the tsessebes was standing with its rump more squarely towards me than the other, so aiming just at the root of its tail, I fired, and saw at once that I had struck the unfortunate animal exactly right, as its hind-quarters immediately gave way, though it struggled towards the grass with the help of its forelegs. At the report of my rifle the unwounded antelope came galloping round the open ground surrounding the pool to within a short distance of where I was sitting, then, halting for an instant, turned and galloped back again. Just as it reached its stricken comrade, I had reloaded and was ready to fire again. Although this tsessebe was galloping pretty fast, it offered an easy shot, for it was almost broadside to me when I fired, and within sixty yards' range. As I pulled the trigger, down it went as if struck by lightning, and I felt very pleased at having secured a much needed supply of meat, close to the pool of water by which I had made up my mind we would camp that night, in order that none of it should be wasted.

On walking round to where the tsessebe last shot had fallen—the other one had struggled into the long grass—I found it lying flat on its side, and apparently just expiring. My bullet—a 360-grain hollow-pointed projectile, fired from a 450-bore Metford rifle—had struck it some six inches behind the right shoulder, and rather below the central line of the body. I turned the animal over, and seeing a bulge in the skin in the middle of its left shoulder, felt it with my fingers, and squeezed up the flattened and expanded cone of lead, which had mushroomed out to the width of a halfpenny, under the skin. As far as I could see, the prostrate antelope could not possibly have been the victim of a more perfect or more deadly shot. When I reached it, it was still breathing, but was limp and apparently at its last gasp. Seizing it by the lower jaw, I pulled its head backwards, and was about to cut its throat, when a dark shadow passed over the water below me. Looking up, I saw a vulture sweeping through the sky, whilst half a dozen more of these keen-eyed scavengers were close at hand. No, it would not do to cut the antelope's throat, and leave a great pool of blood on the bare ground where it lay; for I knew that had I done so the vultures would have torn the carcase to pieces whilst I was riding back to hurry up the waggon. I therefore let the animal's head swing back and fall to the ground, and set to work to cut grass with my pocket-knife. In ten minutes I had completely covered what I believed was the carcase of a dead animal with sheaves of long grass. Then I looked for the one I had first shot, and found it lying dead just beneath a small bush. I propped it up against the stem of the bush to make it look as if it was lying asleep, which I thought would protect it from vultures for the time being; and then mounting my horse, rode back to the waggon, which I brought to the pool about half an hour later, just as the sun was going down.

My men and the Masarwas had been extremely delighted to hear that I had killed two tsessebe antelopes. We pulled the waggon close up to the carcase of the one first shot, and then leaving the driver and one of the Kafirs to outspan the oxen, I led the way to where the other one was lying by the water all covered up with grass. There was the grass right enough, but it now lay on the bare ground, and there was no tsessebe antelope beneath it. The incomprehensible beast had got up and gone off. At first I thought a lion must have dragged the dead animal away immediately after I had left it. An examination of the ground, however, soon showed that no lion had been there, but that the tsessebe, which I could have sworn was at the point of death, had got up and walked off. Well, I thought it couldn't have gone many yards, so we at once set about following it.

We followed it till dusk, but never set eyes on it again. At first we found blood here and there on the tracks, but after a time this ceased altogether. Then the spoor got mixed up with the tracks of other tsessebe antelopes, and then it got dark; so we returned to camp, and only cut up one animal after all. I went after the resurrected one the next morning with the Bushmen, but not knowing exactly which spoor to follow, we never got it. I have no theory to account for the escape of this animal. All I know is that the incident happened exactly as I have described it.

Nearly four years after the date of the incident which I have just related, in March 1888, I was travelling from Secheli's station towards Khama's old town of Bamangwato. Leaving my waggon in the shade of a cluster of tall, feathery foliaged mimosa trees which grew beside a pretty miniature lake of fresh, sweet rain-water, I rode out late one afternoon to look for game, and heading towards a long low line of ridges which ran parallel with the waggon road a few miles to the east of Selinya vley, rode slowly across an undulating expanse of country, everywhere studded, but nowhere thickly covered with thorn bushes of various kinds, sometimes growing singly, at others in clusters. The soil was soft and sandy, and irregularly covered with tufts of thick, tussocky grass; very heavy ground to gallop over.

I had ridden less than a couple of miles when I suddenly espied a single gemsbuck feeding amongst the scattered bushes, about five hundred yards ahead. Before the animal raised its head I slipped from the saddle and led my horse out to one side, till I got a thick cluster of thorn bushes between myself and the beautiful, long-horned antelope. Then remounting, I cantered quickly up to the cover, and again dismounting, pulled the bridle over my horse's head and left him standing.

On creeping round the bushes, and raising my head cautiously above a thick tussock of grass, I saw that the gemsbuck was still feeding quite unsuspiciously about two hundred yards away from my hiding-place; and as there seemed to be absolutely no wind, I at once commenced to crawl on my hands and knees towards a bush that I judged to be within easy shot of my intended victim. On reaching this I again looked up, and at first could not see the gemsbuck, but the next instant I saw it galloping away, and about three hundred yards off. Glancing towards where I had left my horse, I saw it had walked out from the cover of the bushes behind which I had left it, and by so doing had doubtless spoilt my stalk. Running back to it, I mounted hastily and commenced a long, stern chase.

The gemsbuck, a fine old bull, kept up a strong, steady pace, its long, bushy black tail swinging from side to side as it ran. The soft sandy soil and tussocky grass made the going very heavy, but I was well mounted and gradually gained upon the desert-born antelope I was pursuing, till at length little more than two hundred yards separated us. Perhaps I should never have got up to this gemsbuck at all had it run straight away from me, but it had continually kept swerving inwards, and this had enabled me to cut in on it. Twice I pulled in my panting horse, and jumping to the ground, fired at a distance of some 250 yards. Both these shots missed; but the third time I fired, having held well ahead of the fleeing antelope, as it swerved suddenly inwards, I heard the thud of my bullet that meant a hit, and soon after this the wounded animal began to slacken its pace very sensibly. Then the hunted beast led me into hard ground of limestone formation, heading straight down an open valley leading to a thickish grove of mimosa thorns, and exactly facing the great fiery disc of the setting sun, now very near the horizon. Gathering up the reins and encouraging my good horse with voice and spur, I pressed it to its utmost speed on the hard ground, and raced up to within thirty yards of the gemsbuck, whose strength was now evidently failing fast.

I ought to have galloped right past it, as I could, no doubt, very easily have done; but I foolishly pulled in to get a shot before it got in amongst the mimosa trees towards which it was heading. When I raised my rifle to fire, the red glare of the setting sun was full in my eyes, but I thought that as I pressed the trigger the foresight of my rifle was just on the black patch above the gemsbuck's tail. Then everything seemed a red blur, and for some few moments after I had remounted and again galloped forwards amongst the trees which the wounded antelope had just reached as I fired, I could see nothing distinctly. Not having heard my bullet thud, I did not know whether I had hit or missed, but galloped straight ahead through the open forest, and soon rode out into a broad valley quite free from trees or bush for a distance of several hundred yards. No gemsbuck was in sight, and as I knew that the wounded animal I was looking for could not have crossed this open piece of ground whilst I was riding through the narrow belt of thorn trees, I thought it must have turned either to the right or left in the shelter of the wood.

I first took a turn to the right, and was just coming round again to cut my horse's spoor in the open valley down which I had galloped just before my last shot, when I saw an animal running amongst the trees ahead of me. The sun had now set, and the light was already bad, especially beneath the shade of the trees; and as I went in pursuit, I thought I was after the wounded gemsbuck once more. I was, however, soon undeceived, for on galloping out into an open place, I saw an old blue wildebeest bull lumbering along in front of me. I at once pulled up, and again rode round to cut the gemsbuck's spoor; but it was now fast getting dusk, and I had somewhat lost my exact bearings, so I gave it up as a bad job and rode off westwards till I cut the waggon track, and finally reached my camp.

I was much annoyed, for a gemsbuck bull is always a beast worth shooting, and this particular one, which I had so unaccountably lost, had, I felt sure, carried a very fine head.

I had my supper and turned in, but I could not sleep for annoyance at losing the gemsbuck. Could I, I wondered, with the sun shining full in my eyes, have fired a little too high, and instead of hitting the gemsbuck at the root of the tail, have struck it in the back of the head or neck? Had I done so it would, of course, have fallen to the ground as if struck by lightning, and I might then have galloped close past it without seeing it, both because I was looking on ahead through the trees and because my sight was still blurred by the sun. Anyhow, I thought I would go back and solve the mystery the next morning.

It must have been about ten o'clock at night when my dogs began to bark, and presently I heard some one ride up to my waggon. It proved to be Count von Schweinitz, a German gentleman whom I had met a short time before, and who, I knew, was about to proceed on a shooting trip to Mashunaland. He told me that he had left his waggons some twenty miles away at Batlanarma vley, and ridden on, as he knew I was not far ahead, and he wanted to have a couple of days' hunting with me.

I soon got my visitor something to eat, and whilst a sleeping place was being prepared for him, told him how I had lost a fine gemsbuck through firing at it with the setting sun full in my eyes. Count von Schweinitz wanted particularly to see some gemsbucks and hartebeests, as he knew that these animals were not to be got in Mashunaland. I informed him that I thought we would be sure to find hartebeests, but could not answer for gemsbucks, though I told him that if we could find the one I had wounded and lost, I hoped he would take its head.

At daylight the next morning we rode out with four of my Kafirs, and took my horse's track to where I had galloped after the wildebeest. Then I took a sweep round and cut the tracks of the gemsbuck, intermingled with those of my pursuing horse, and following them up, came on the beautiful antelope, lying dead just on the edge of the thorn trees where I had last seen it. It was just as I had surmised. My last bullet had gone a little high, and striking the gemsbuck in the back of the neck, had shattered the vertebrae and killed it instantly. It had, of course, fallen all of a heap in its tracks, and, impossible as it may seem, I had galloped past, and within three yards of the dead antelope, without seeing it. This, of course, could not have happened had not my sight been blurred for the moment by the glare of the sun. My horse probably saw the gemsbuck fall, and so did not shy as it passed it.

My first bullet, I found, had entered the gemsbuck's right flank, and ranging forwards, must have inflicted a wound which by itself would soon have proved fatal. The dead antelope carried a remarkably fine pair of horns, massive, widespread, and symmetrical. They measured 3 feet 5 inches, which is quite an unusual length for the horns of a bull gemsbuck, which are, as a rule, much shorter than those of the cow's. The horns of the latter seldom measure more than 3 feet 6 inches, though they have been known to reach a length of within half an inch of 4 feet.

After cutting off the head of the gemsbuck, which I gave to Count von Schweinitz, and leaving two boys to cut up the meat, we rode off to look for hartebeests. We soon found a small herd of these animals, and shot two of them, a bull and a cow. I then sent one of the two natives who had accompanied us to my waggon for four pack donkeys, and with their help carried all the meat, both of the gemsbuck and the hartebeests, to camp, which we reached early in the afternoon.

CHAPTER XVII

Thus it has been left an unexplored wilderness which has seldom been traversed by white men, except on certain well-known routes, such as the old waggon trails from Tati to Pandamatenka and from Bamangwato to the Mababi river, and even on these I have travelled in dry seasons seventy and a hundred and twenty miles respectively without water.

Occasionally, however, when exceptionally heavy rains have fallen during the past wet season, this desert land becomes a very pleasant country to travel in. Such a year was 1884. Towards the end of May of that year, a full six weeks after the usual close of the wet season, the most extraordinary rain-storm I have ever experienced swept over the desert to the west of Matabeleland. I was at that time travelling slowly westwards by bullock waggon, following no track, but making my way across country under the guidance of Masarwa Bushmen from one pool of water to another.

One afternoon dense masses of black clouds gathered in the west, and presently spread over the whole sky. There was neither thunder nor lightning, but towards evening a strong wind sprang up, and soon afterwards a steady rain began to fall, at first light, but ever increasing in intensity, until soon after dark it was coming down in such a way that I thought it impossible that it could last long. But all through that night and until midday the following day, the heavy rain never ceased to fall. During the afternoon, however, the sky again grew lighter and the rain gradually ceased. By midnight the stars were shining from a cloudless sky.

Early the following morning I rode out to see the effect of this unprecedented downpour, and found the face of the country completely changed. On the sand ridges no difference was apparent, as the thirsty soil had easily absorbed all the rain that had fallen on it, but the intervening spaces where the Mopani trees flourish, and where the soil is a sort of light clay, had been transformed into broad, shallow lakes, from a few inches to two feet in depth. Riding across one of these flooded valleys, I came upon a porcupine seated disconsolately on the stem of a fallen Mopani tree—the first of these animals I had ever come across in the daytime.

The surface floods soon soaked away on the level ground, but every hollow became a lake or pond which held water for a longer or shorter time according to its depth, and when retraversing this same tract of country some five months later, I still found all the larger hollows fairly full, and was therefore able to travel at my leisure with ease and comfort through a country which, in ordinary seasons, would have been quite impassable by bullock waggon at that time of the year.

Under these conditions, I found this usually arid waste a very pleasant place to wander over. Game, though not very abundant, was still in sufficient numbers to enable me to keep my own people and the several families of Bushmen who had attached themselves to me in rude plenty. Owing to the favourable season, all grazing and browsing animals, including my own cattle, were in very good condition, and my larder seldom lacked the choicest portions of the giraffe, eland, gemsbuck, and springbuck, four of the best animals for the table, when in prime condition, which South Africa, or any other part of the world, can produce. Blue wildebeests were more plentiful than all other species of game, and on the broad, grassy plains which stretch westwards from Metsibutluku—the bitter water—often congregated in herds of from one to two hundred individuals. Here, too, large troops of zebras—Chapman's variety of Burchell's zebra—were often to be met with, as well as small herds of the Cape hartebeest, now quite a scarce animal, as it has been either exterminated in most parts of its former range or driven into the waterless deserts of South-Western Africa.

In the dense thorn jungles which lay a little to the north of my route, a large herd of elephants spent the whole year, as I saw their tracks when travelling westwards from Matabeleland, and again on my return eastwards some five months later. These animals were, however, very wary, never drinking twice running at one pool, and travelling immense distances every night. I twice followed their spoor for a whole day and slept on it without coming up with them. But besides this large herd of cow and young bull elephants, there were four immense old bulls (judging from their tracks), which frequented the same jungles but lived by themselves apart from the herd.

These old patriarchs I tried hard but unsuccessfully to find in the daytime, and I also watched for them at nights on several occasions at vleys at which they had been in the habit of drinking, but I never had the luck to hit off the right pool of water on the right night. Once they drank at a vley within a mile of the one at which I was watching, and I heard them at the water, but on this occasion I think they must have got my wind, as, although I was early on their tracks and followed them all day with the best Bushmen spoorers, I never got near them, and the next day rode home, shooting a fat giraffe cow on the way.

I may here remark that it is of little use, if you do not come up with elephants which have been frightened on the first day, to follow them any farther, as, when alarmed, these animals travel very fast and far at nights, and on the morning of the second day will, in all probability, be much farther off than they were when you first took up their spoor.

Of lions there were a few, but not very many, in this part of the country, and my one successful encounter with one of these animals during this season occurred late in the year, when I was once more nearing the western frontier of Matabeleland. My waggon was then standing beneath some tall, feathery leaved thorn trees near a large vley of water, beyond which stretched an open plain covered with a rather short growth of yellow grass for South Africa—as it was not more than about two feet in length. This open plain was skirted to the north by dense jungles of wait-a-bit thorns, and on its other three sides by open Mopani forest and scrub. My camp was on the northern side of the plain, quite close to the thorn jungles.

At this time I had been long absent from the farthest outpost of civilisation, and had not seen a white mans face or spoken a word of English for more than six months; but I never felt lonely or low spirited, for I had plenty of books with me to read at nights, and hunting and collecting specimens of natural history filled all my time by day. I was, too, in perfect health.

One night I was reading in the waggon rather late, when a lion—the first I had heard for a long time—commenced to roar loudly apparently not very far away, and was immediately answered by several other lions roaring in unison. After this, and until I went to sleep, this roaring became almost continuous, but I could tell that there was one lion which always roared alone, and was answered by several others which all roared together. Presently, lulled by this grandest of all earthly music, I went to sleep.

I awoke just before daylight, and as the lions were still roaring, apparently within a mile of the waggon, I at once got up, and after drinking a cup of coffee, rode out just at daylight, accompanied by a mounted Griqua lad and several of my best Bushmen, to look for them. Twice after we had left the waggon their deep, menacing voices rolled out over the silent veld, and assured us that they were still in the open grass plain, but after the sun rose they became silent.

We had ridden for perhaps a mile and a half across the open plain, when I suddenly saw something dark appear above the long yellow grass some four hundred yards ahead of me, and knew at once that what I had seen was the maned shoulder of a lion. At this time I do not think he had seen us, but had just risen from the spot where he had been lately lying roaring, with the intention of making his way to the thorn jungles ahead of him. I was mounted on a very good, well-trained shooting horse, in splendid hard condition, and very fast, and I at once put spurs to him, and rode as hard as he could go, in the hope of getting up to the lion before the latter gained the shelter of the thorn jungle, where no horse could have followed him.

The noble quarry gave but one quick look towards the approaching horse, and then turned and galloped away through the grass at a great pace, making straight for a small island of forest and jungle lying in the open plain just outside the main bush. I was now going at racing speed, and was gaining fast on the lion, who did not appear to be exerting himself, though he got over the ground pretty quickly, going at an easy gallop, and looking like an enormous mastiff. He was very dark in colour, with a full dark mane.

Just before he got to the edge of the small isolated piece of bush, I ought to have pulled in and taken a shot at him at about 150 yards, but I thought he would halt at the edge of the cover and turn round and look at me, as lions, after having been chased across an open place on horseback, often do; but this one galloped straight into the cover, and I lost the chance. The patch of bush in which he now was, was not more than 100 yards long by 50 broad, but was only separated from the main jungle by an open piece of ground quite destitute of cover and about 60 yards across at the narrowest point. Having ridden round this isolated piece of bush without seeing anything more of the lion, I thought he must be hiding within it, and determined to send to the waggon for my dogs, which I knew would soon show me his whereabouts, as soon as the Bushmen came up.

They soon appeared with my mounted after-rider, who at once told me that, after I galloped forward, he had come on behind me across the plain, and had ridden right on to five lions lying in the grass, a big male and four females, which had trotted slowly away to a tongue of bush extending into the plain from the main jungle about a mile back.

I now rode round the piece of bush again, in which I thought that the lion I had chased was still hiding, with the Bushmen, in order to make sure that he was still there, and had not run straight through it and across the open into the solid jungle beyond, which he might just have had time to do without my seeing him, for I had pulled in for a moment near where he had disappeared.

Sure enough, we found his tracks emerging from the top end of the bush, and followed them across the open to the thick cover beyond, and as it would have been useless to look for him here without dogs, I galloped back at once with my after-rider to where the latter had last seen the other lions. "Was the male a big one?" I asked him. "Sir," he answered, "when he turned and stood looking at me from the top of that piece of rising ground, he looked like an eland bull!"

We had just passed the point of the tongue of bush I have previously alluded to, when my boy said in Dutch, "Daar's hij; pass op; hij zal ons jagd" ("There he is; look out; he will chase us"), and turning his horse's head, galloped away. I had not yet seen the lion, but I soon made him out standing looking at me, with his head held low. He was not more than eighty yards off, and I was just going to dismount and have a shot at him, when out he came with mouth held half open and ears laid back, jerking out with every breath a rolling thunderous growl. My horse knew the business well, and was round and off with the promptitude and speed of a well-trained polo pony, the lion close behind.

I think he got up pretty near us with his first furious rush, but then my horse got into his stride and gradually drew away from him, and when he had chased us for about 150 yards, he pulled up, at the same time ceasing to growl. It was the cessation of the roaring that let me know he had given up the chase, and pulling my horse in, I brought him round again as quickly as possible.

The lion was then standing looking at me, and as I approached he lowered his head, and at once commenced to growl again, whisking his tail rapidly from side to side without cessation. I knew he would charge again in a moment, so gave him no time to get his wind, but dismounting as quickly as possible, raised my rifle and took a quick shot for his open mouth. The bullet must have passed just below or on one side of his lower jaw, as it struck him in the chest, causing him to stand straight up on his hind-legs, and fall over backwards. He recovered himself immediately, but abandoning for the moment all thought of again charging, turned and trotted back towards the shelter of the trees he had left a short time before.

I was quickly in the saddle again and galloping up behind him, as I feared to lose sight of him in the bush. He heard me coming, and whipping round with an angry roar, charged again in fine style, this time, however, chasing me for less than a hundred yards, and coming to a halt as before right in the open. I brought my horse round as quickly as I could, and again dismounting, fired as he stood facing me, and again hit him in the chest, when he at once turned and made for the bush, on reaching which he lay down under a large thorn tree. I now walked my horse towards him, and finding that he was apparently too far gone to get on his legs again, though he raised his great head and growled savagely as I approached, I came quite near to him, and gave him a third shot in the chest which killed him. He proved to be a fine lion just in his prime, in beautiful coat and with a very fair mane. He was, too, extraordinarily fat. The Bushmen took every particle of fat from the slain monarch, but left the rest of the carcase for the hyænas and vultures, which they would not have done had they been short of meat of other kinds.

I imagine that this lion was the lord and master of the four lionesses who were with him when my after-rider disturbed them, and that the single lion I had chased and lost was a depraved animal who wished to interfere with this domestic arrangement, but had been unable to allure any of the lionesses away from their rightful lord, and had not dared to put the matter to the ordeal of combat. This explanation would, I think, account for the continuous roaring which had gone on during the whole of the previous night.