Майн Рид
The Giraffe Hunters
Chapter Fifty Nine.
A Lion Hunt
Once more our adventurers turned their faces homeward.
Contrary to their expectations, the young camelopards caused them but little trouble. A single rheim attached to the neck of each was sufficient to lead them along.
The manner in which both had been captured, had taught them in their first lesson, that man’s will was superior to their own; and they were thenceforth either too cunning or too silly to resist it.
Before driving them far along the road, there would have been little danger of their straying, even if left free to do so. Like tame elephants, they knew neither their own strength nor swiftness, and soon became as easily managed as any of the horses or horned cattle.
For several days no incident worthy of notice occurred, nor did our adventurers much desire that any should. They had obtained all they required; and even Groot Willem, before so enthusiastically fond of hunting, would not have turned aside to kill the finest koodoo that ever trod the plains of Africa, unless its flesh had been absolutely wanted for food.
After a journey of two more weeks, Swartboy found himself in a land inhabited by many of his countrymen, – the Bushmen. It was a land he had long been looking forward to visit, and with pleasant anticipations, – not from any sunny memory of youthful joy, but merely from that prejudice in favour of native land, natural to all mankind. He had ever represented to his young masters that the Bushmen were a race of noble warriors and hunters, – that they were kind, hospitable, intelligent, and in every respect superior to the countrymen of his rival Congo.
They were now in a country inhabited by several wandering tribes of these people, and where opportunities might not be wanting to test the truth of Swartboy’s assertions.
One soon presented itself. Early one afternoon they arrived at a settlement of Bushmen, – a kraal of their kind, containing about fifty families. On learning that they would have a long distance to travel, before finding a place to encamp, our adventurers resolved to stay by the Bushmen’s village for the night.
The first exhibition given of the hospitality Swartboy had boasted of was by the whole tribe begging for tobacco, spirits, clothing, and everything else the travellers chanced to possess; while the only consideration they could give in return was the permission to draw water from a pool in the neighbourhood of their kraal.
During the night a young heifer, belonging to the headman of the village, was carried off by a lion; and in the morning two of the natives were ordered to follow the beast and destroy it. The hunters had often heard of the manner in which the Bushmen kill lions; and, anxious to see the feat performed, they obtained permission to accompany the two men on their expedition.
The only implements carried by the Bushmen for the destruction of the king of beasts were a buffalo robe, a small bow, and some poisoned arrows, with which each was provided.
The lion was traced to a grove of trees, about a mile and a half from the kraal. To this place our adventurers proceeded, curious to see a lion die under the effects of a wound given by a tiny arrow, as also to learn how the Bushmen would approach such a dangerous creature near enough to use such a weapon.
Gorged with its repast, there was no difficulty in getting near the lion. As the Bushmen anticipated, the fierce brute was enjoying a sound slumber.
Silently the two drew near – so near as almost to touch the sleeping monster.
The spectators, who had stopped at some distance off, dismounted from their horses, and, with rifles ready for instant use, at a few yards behind the Bushmen, followed the latter, whose courage they could not help admiring.
Only one of the Bushmen drew his bow. The other holding his buffalo robe spread out upon both hands, went nearer to the lion than the one who was to inflict the mortal wound.
There was a moment of intense interest. In one second the lion could have tossed the bodies of the two little men, crushed and mangled, to the earth.
In another moment the tiny arrow was seen sticking in the monster’s huge side between two of the ribs. Just as the fierce brute was springing to his feet with a loud growl, – just as he had caught a glimpse of the human face, – the buffalo skin was flung over its head.
He ran backwards, turned hastily around, and disengaged himself from the robe; and then, astonished at the incomprehensible encounter, fled without casting another glance behind!
So far as destroying him was concerned, the task of the Bushmen was accomplished. The poisoned arrow had entered the animal’s flesh, and they knew he was as sure to die as if a cannon-ball had carried off his head.
But the Bushmen had still something to do. They must carry back to their chief the paws of the lion, as proof that they had accomplished the errand on which they had been despatched. They must follow the lion until he fell; and, curious to witness the result, our adventurers followed them.
Slowly at first, and with an apparent show of unconcern, the lion had moved away, though gradually increasing his speed.
The arrow could not have done much more than penetrate his thick hide; and, fearing that he might not die, Willem expressed some regret that he had not given the brute a bullet from his roer.
“I am very glad you did not,” exclaimed Hans, on hearing Willem’s remark. “You would have spoilt all our interest in the pursuit. I want to see the effect of their poisoned arrow, and learn with my own eyes if a lion can be so easily killed.”
The wounded animal retreated for about a mile, then stopped and commenced roaring loudly. Something was evidently amiss with him, as he was seen turning as upon a pivot, and otherwise acting in a very eccentric manner.
The poison was beginning to do its work, and each moment the agony of the animal seemed to be on the increase. He laid himself down and rolled over and over; he then reared himself upon his hind legs, all the while roaring like mad. Once he appeared to stand upon his head. After a time he attacked a tree growing near, and, tearing the bark both with claws and teeth, left the branches stained with his blood. He seemed as if he wished to rend the whole world!
Never had our adventurers, in all their hunting experience, been witnesses to such terrific death-struggles.
The sufferings of the great beast were frightful to behold, and awakened within the spectators a feeling of pity. They would have released it from its misery by a shot, had they not been desirous to learn all they could of the effects of the poison.
From the time the lion ceased to retreat, till the moment when he ceased to live, about fifteen minutes elapsed. During that time the spectators saw a greater variety of acrobatic feats than they had ever witnessed in one scene before. As soon as the creature was declared dead, the Bushmen cut off its paws and carried them back to the kraal.
Chapter Sixty.
A Sudden Reverse of Fortune
On the third morning after leaving the Bushmen’s kraal, our adventurers were awakened by the loud cries of a troop of black monkeys that appeared in a neighbouring grove.
Something was giving them trouble. This could be told by the cries, which were evidently those of distress.
As breakfast was being prepared, and the cattle laden for a start, Willem and Hendrik strolled towards the grove from whence the cries came. They were now more frightful than ever, and translated from the monkey language seemed to say “Murder!”
In a tree where there were between fifteen and twenty of those quadrumana, each about the size of an ordinary cat, was seen a young leopard, trying to capture a black monkey for his breakfast. To avoid this enemy, the apes had crawled out on the small slender branches, where the leopard dared not follow them, knowing that his weight would precipitate him to the ground.
For some time our adventurers amused themselves by watching the abortive efforts of the leopard to procure the means of breaking its fast. He would pursue a monkey along the limb until the branch became too small to be trusted any farther.
He would get within two or three feet of the screaming ape, and then stretch out one of his paws, while displaying his white teeth in a smile, as though desirous of shaking hands with the creature he was intending to destroy.
Finding his efforts to reach that particular monkey useless, he would then leave it, to go through the same game with another.
One of the apes was at length chased out upon a large dead limb that extended horizontally from the trunk. The top had been broken off, and there being no slender twigs on which the monkey could take refuge, there was nothing to prevent the leopard from following it to the extremity of the branch and seizing it at leisure. There was no other branch to which the monkey could spring; and it was fairly in a dilemma. On perceiving this, it turned to the hunters who stood below, and gazed at them with an expression that seemed to say, “Save me! save me!”
The leopard was so intent on obtaining his breakfast that he did not notice the arrival of the two hunters until they were within twenty yards of the tree, and until he was close pursuing the monkey along the dead limb.
At this point, however, he paused. He had caught sight of “the human face divine,” and instinct told him that danger was near. He gazed upon the intruders with flaming eyes, as if very little would induce him to change the nature of his intended repast.
“Reserve your fire, Hendrik!” exclaimed Willem as he brought the roer to his shoulder; “it may be needed.”
The leopard answered the report of the gun by making a somersault to the earth. There was no necessity for Hendrik to waste any ammunition upon him. He had fallen in the agonies of death; and, without even waiting for his last kick, Willem took hold of one of his hind legs and commenced dragging the carcass towards the camp.
The camp was not far-away, and they soon came within sight of it. To their surprise they saw that it was in a state of commotion. The horses and cattle were running in all directions, and so too were the men!
What could it mean?
The answer was obtained by their seeing a huge dark form standing in the middle of the camp. They recognised it as the body of a black rhinoceros, one of the largest kind. The fierce brute had taken his stand in the middle of the camping-ground, and seemed undecided as to which of the fugitives he should follow. His ill-humour had arisen from the circumstance that, on seeking the place where he was in the habit of quenching his thirst, he had found it occupied by strange intruders.
A black rhinoceros would not hesitate to charge upon a whole regiment of cavalry; and the manner in which the one in question had introduced himself to the camp was so impetuous as to cause a precipitate retreat both of man and beast, – in short, everything that was free to get off. One of the young giraffes had been too strongly secured to effect its escape. It was struggling on the ground, and by its side was an ox that the borelé had capsized in his first impetuous onset. The second of the giraffes was fleeing over the plain, and had already gone farther from the camp than any of the other animals. It seemed not only inspired by fear, but a renewed love of liberty.
The borelé soon selected an object for his pursuit, which was one of the pack-horses, and then charged right after him.
Meanwhile Willem and Hendrik hastened on to the camp, where they were joined by two of the Makololo. All the others had gone off after the cattle and horses. The giraffe, in its efforts to escape, had thrown itself upon the ground, and was fastened in such a way that it was in danger of being strangled in the rheims around its neck. As though to insure its death, the ox that had been gored by the borelé became entangled in the same fastenings, and tightened them by his violent struggles.
The first care of the returned hunters was to release the young giraffe. This could have been done immediately by setting it free from its fastenings; but then there was the danger of its following the example of its companion, and taking advantage of the liberty thus given to it.
As the ox, whose struggles were nearly breaking its neck, had been gored by the borelé and severely wounded, he saw it would be no use letting him live any longer, and without more ado he received his quietus from Hendrik’s rifle. The giraffe was now released, and restored to its proper fastenings. By this time the others had caught up with most of the horses and cattle.
None of them, except the one selected for especial pursuit by the borelé, had gone far, but, turning when out of danger, were easily caught. This was not the case with the camelopard that had got loose and fled among the foremost. Its flight had been continued until it was no longer seen!
It had entered the grove from which Willem and Hendrik had just come, and there were ten chances to one against their ever seeing it again.
Had Willem been on horseback at the time it ran off from the camp, he would have stood a chance of recapturing it, but, as it had now twenty minutes of start, the chances were very slight indeed. Not a moment was to be lost, however, before making the attempt, and, accompanied by Hendrik, Congo, and the dog Spoor’em, Willem started off for the forest, leaving the others to continue the task of collecting the animals still scattered over the plain.
But one brief hour before, Willem Van Wyk was the happiest hunter in existence, and now he was about the most miserable. One of the two captives, for which he had suffered so many hardships, had escaped, and in all probability would never be again seen by the eyes of a white man. The realisation of his fondest hopes was delayed for a time, – perhaps forever.
One camelopard was of but little value to him. He must have two; and fortune might never assist them in obtaining another. He was not sure of being able to keep the one that still remained. Death might take it out of their hands. It had been injured in the struggle; and, before leaving camp he had noticed that the efforts of the Makololo to get it to its feet had not succeeded. His great undertaking – the chief purpose of the expedition – was as far as ever from being accomplished.
Such were the thoughts that tortured him, as he urged Congo and the dog to greater haste, in following the spoor through the forest.
Chapter Sixty One.
The Lost Found
The forest which Willem at first feared might be miles in extent, proved to be but a mere strip of timber, through which he soon passed, discovering an open plain on the other side. Nothing could be seen of the camelopard, though its tracks were found leading out upon the plain.
Willem’s wishes were very difficult to meet. At first he was afraid the giraffe would be lost in a dense forest, where he would be unable to gallop after it on horseback. Now, when contemplating the vast plain before him, he feared that the flight of the escaped captive might be continued for many miles, and he regretted that it had gone out of the timber.
The trees would have given it food and shelter, where it might have stayed until overtaken; but it was not likely to make halt on an open plain.
It must now be many miles off, since they could see nothing of it.
The tracks could be followed but very slowly, – not half so fast as the animal itself had made them, while going in search of the kindred from which it had been so rudely separated several days before. The longer they continued to take up the spoor, the farther they would be from the animal that had left it.
All this was fully understood by our adventurers.
“It’s no use going farther,” remarked Hendrik. “We have lost the creature beyond all hope of recovery. We may as well turn back to camp.”
“Not a bit of it,” answered Willem. “The giraffe is mine, and I sha’n’t part with it so cheaply. I’ll follow it as long as I have strength left me sufficient to sit upon my horse. It must stop sometime and somewhere; and, whenever that time comes, I shall be there not long after to have another look at it.”
Thinking that an hour or two more of what he considered a hopeless chase, would satisfy even Willem, Hendrik made no further objections, but continued on after Congo, who was leading along the spoor.
The sun had by this crossed the meridian, and commenced descending towards the western horizon.
They had started from camp without eating breakfast; and their sudden departure had prevented them from bringing any food along with them. Thirsty and feeble from the long fast, and the fatigue of tracking under a hot sun, they continued their course in anything but a lively fashion.
“Willem!” at length exclaimed Hendrik, suddenly pulling up his horse, “I am willing to do anything in reason, but I think we have already gone on this worse than wild-goose chase, a good many miles too far. We can scarce get back to the camp before nightfall, and I shall commence returning now.”
“All right,” answered Willem. “I can’t blame you. You are free to do as you please; but I shall go on. I need not expect others to act as foolishly as myself. This is my own affair, and you as well as Congo had better turn back. Leave me the dog, and I can track up the giraffe without you.”
“No! no!! baas Willem,” exclaimed the Kaffir. “I go with you and Spoor’em. We no leave you.”
Willem, Congo, and the dog moved on, leaving Hendrik gazing after them.
He remained on the spot where he had pulled up his horse. “Now this is interesting,” muttered the young cornet, as he saw them go off upon the spoor. “I have been acting without motives, – acting like a fool ever since we have been out on this expedition. Circumstances have driven me to it and will do so again. Yes. I must follow Willem. Why should I desert him when that poor Kaffir remains true? If his friendship worth more than mine?”
Spurring his horse into a gallop, Hendrik was soon once more by the side of his forsaken companion.
Willem had a strong suspicion that he was himself acting without reason, in seeking for an object he could hardly expect to find. This sage reflection did not prevent him from continuing the search. Half distracted by the loss of the camelopard, he was scarce capable of knowing whether he now acted sensibly, or like a fool!
To all appearance Hendrik had only followed him for the purpose of prevailing upon him to return.
Every argument that could be advanced against their proceeding farther was used by the young cornet, – all to no purpose. Willem was determined to proceed, and persisted in his determination.
Evening approached, and still was he unwilling to give up the search.
They could not return that night, for they were now nearly a day’s journey from the camp.
“Willem is mad, – hopelessly mad,” thought Hendrik, “and I must not leave him alone.”
They journey on together, and in silence, Hendrik fast approaching that state of mind in which he had just pronounced Willem to be.
But their journey was approaching its termination. It was nearer than either of them expected to a successful issue.
A clump of trees was seen rising up over the plain. They were willows, and indicated the proximity of water.
Towards these the tracks appeared to lead in a line almost direct. The giraffe, guided by its instinct, had scented water. The horses ridden by the trackers did the same, and hastened forward to the clump of trees.
There was a pool in the centre of the grove, and on its edge an animal, the sight of which drew an exclamation of joy from the lips of Groot Willem. It was the escaped camelopard. A second joyful shout was caused by their perceiving that it was again a captive.
The loose rheim, which it had carried away round its neck, had become entangled among the bushes, and it was now secured so that they had no difficulty in laying hold of it. Had they not come upon the spot, it would have perished either by the suicidal act of half-strangulation, from thirst, or by the teeth of some fierce predatory animal.
The rheim was now unwound from the saplings to which it had attached itself, and the giraffe released from its irksome attitude. No harm had yet befallen it.
“Now, Hendrik,” exclaimed Willem, as he gazed upon the captive with an expression of pride and pleasure, “is it not better that we have saved this poor creature than to have left it to die a horrible death?”
“Yes, certainly,” answered his companion. “Much good may sometimes result from what may appear a foolish course of conduct.”
Satisfied with the result of his perseverance, Willem was quite indifferent as to whether his conduct had been foolish or otherwise.
Congo did not seem the least surprised at the good fortune of his master; probably for the reason that he had the utmost confidence in his wisdom, and never for a moment had doubted that the giraffe would be discovered.
Willem never was without the means of lighting a fire, – he was too fond of a pipe for that, – and near a large blazing heap of wood they remained until the first appearance of day.
The journey back to the camp was a tedious one, but was made with much less heaviness of spirit than they had suffered when leaving it to go in search of the lost giraffe, which fortune had so favoured them in finding.
