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3 1822 01335 3008
CALIFORNIA
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^3 1822 01335 3008
Social Sciences & Humanities Library
University of California, San Diego
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UCSD Lib.
JOCK OF THE BUSHVELD
JOCK OF THE BUSHVELD
By SIR PERCY FITZPATRICK
With 23 full-page Illustrations (i Coloured), and
numerous other Illustrations round the margins
of pages by E. CALDWELL. 8vo. IDS. 6d. net.
ABRIDGED EDITION (arranged as a School
Reading Book), with Note and Glossary. With
Coloured Frontispiece, 8 full-page and numerous
Illustrations in the Text. Crown 8vo. 35.
Also in superior binding suitable for a School
Prize. Crown 8vo. 53. net.
Also translated into Dutch by GUSTAV S.
PRELLER. Crown 8vo. School Edition, as.
Prize Edition. 35.
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
LONDON, NEW YORK, TORONTO, BOMBAY,
CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS
JOCK "
JOCK OF THE
BUSHVELD
SIR PERCY FITZPATRICtC
BY
E. CALDWELL
ELEVENTH IMPRESSION
LONGMANS, GREEN, AND CO.
39 PATERNOSTER ROW, LONDON, E.C. 4.
NEW YORK, TORONTO
BOMBAY, CALCUTTA, AND MADRAS
1922
BIBLIOGRAPHICAL NOTE
LIBRARY EDITION. First printed September 1907.
New Impressions: November 1907 (printed 3 times],
May 1908, September 1909, February 1911, July 1913,
February 1918, January 1920, and August 1922.
SCHOOL EDITION, August 1908.
/Vew Impressions: August 1911, April 1913, /««« 1916,
January 1917, December 1917, September 1918, a«d?
/#/y 1920.
PRIZE EDITION, August 1908.
New Impressions : November 1910, .4/oy 1911, December
1915, a« J^ ^j.^
there are shut off from all their kind — souls sheathed
in some film invisible, through which no thrill of
sympathy may pass ; some barred by their self-con-
sciousness, heart hungry still, who never learned in^^r-i f~
childhood to make friends ; some have a secret or a *'$?*
grief ; some, thoughts too big or bad for comrade- -^_
ship. But most will charge to Fate the thoughtless ^
choice, the chance, or hard necessity, that drew
or drove them to the life apart ; they know the
lesson that was learned of old : " It is not good for
man to be alone."
Go out among them, ever moving on, whose white
bones mark the way for others' feet — who shun the
cities, living in the wilds, and move in silence, self-
contained. Who knows what they think, or dream,
or hope, or suffer ? Who can know ? For speech among
that hard-schooled lot is but a half-remembered art.
Yet something you may guess, since with the man
there often goes — his dog ; his silent tribute to The
Book. Oh, it's little they know of life who cannot guess
the secret springs of loneliness and love that prompt
the keeping of a trifling pet ; who do not know what
moves a man who daily takes his chance of life and
death — man whose " breath is in his nostrils " — to
lay his cheek against the muzzle of his comrade dog,
and in the trackless miles of wilderness feel he has a
friend. Something to hold to ; something to protect.
There was old Blake — " mad, quite mad," as every-
body knew — of whom they vaguely said that horses,
hounds, coaches, covers, and all that goes with old
estates, were his — once. We knew him poor and
middle-aged. How old to us ! Cheery and un-
practical, with two old pointers and a fowling-piece,
and a heart as warm as toast. We did not ask each
other's business there ; and, judging by the dogs
and gun, we put him down as a ' remittance man.'
But that, it seems, was wrong. They were his all.
He left no letters — a little pile of paper ash ; no
money and no food ! That was his pride. He
would not sell or give away his dogs ! That was his
love. When he could not keep them it seemed time
to go ! That was his madness. But before he went,
remembering a friend in hospital, he borrowed two
cartridges and brought him in a brace of birds.
That was old mad Blake, who ( moved on ' and took
his dogs with him, because they had always been
together, and he could not leave their fate to chance.
So we buried him with one on either side, just as he
would have liked it !
There was Turner, who shot the crocodile that
seized his dog, and reckless of the others, swam in
and brought the dog to land.
There was the dog that jumped in when his master
slipped from the rock, and, swimming beside him,
was snapped down in his stead ! And there was the
boy who tried a rescue in the dark— when a rustle,
yelp and growl told that the lions had his dog — and was
never seen again.
So it goes, and so it went, from year to year : a
little showing now and then, like the iceberg's tip,
from which to guess the bulk below.
There was a Boy who went to seek his fortune.
Call him boy or man : the years proved nothing
either way ! Some will be boyish always ; others
were never young : a few — most richly dowered
few — are man and boy together. He went to
seek his fortune, as boys will and should ; no
pressure on him from about ; no promise from
beyond. For life was easy there, and all was
pleasant, as it may be — in a cage. ' To-day ' is
sure and happy ; and there is no ' to-morrow ' —
in a cage.
There were friends enough — all kind and true — and
in their wisdom they said : " Here it is safe : yonder
all is chance, where many indeed are called, but few —
so few — are chosen. Many have gone forth ; some
to return, beaten, hopeless, and despised ; some to
fall in sight outside ; others are lost, we know not
where ; and ah ! so few are free and well. But the
fate of numbers is unheeded still ; for the few are those
who count, and lead ; and those who follow do not
3
How few,' but cry * How
strong ! How
Here it is safe :
think
free ! ' Be wise and do not venture.
there is no fortune there ! "
But there was something stronger than the things
he knew, around, without, beyond — the thing that
strove within him : that grew and grew, and beat
and fought for freedom : that bade him go and walk
alone and tell his secret on the mountain slopes to
one who would not laugh — a little red retriever ;
that made him climb and feel his strength, and find
an outlet for what drove within. And thus the end
was sure ; for of all the voices none so strong as this !
And only those others reached him that would chime
with it ; the gentle ones which said : " We too
believe," and one, a stronger, saying : " Fifty years
ago I did it. I would do it now again ! "
So the Boy set out to seek his fortune, and did not
find it ; for there was none in the place where he
sought. Those who warned him were — in the little
— right : yet was he — in the greater — right too !
It was not given to him as yet to know that fortune
is not in time or place or things ; but, good or bad,
in the man's own self for him alone to find and prove.
Time and place and things had failed him ; still
was effort right ; and, when the first was clear beyond
all question, it was instinct and not knowledge bade
him still go on, saying : " Not back to the cage.
Anything but that ! "
When many days had passed, it was again a
friend who met him, saying : " Common sense is not
4
cowardice. You have made a mistake : repair it
while you may. I have seen and know : there is
nothing here. Come back with me, and all will be made
easy." And answer, in reason, there was none ; for
the little truth was all too plain, and the greater not
yet seen. But that which had swelled to bursting and
had fought within for freedom called out : " Failure is
the worst of all ! " And the blind and struggling
instinct rose against all knowledge and all reason.
" Not back to the cage ! Not that ! "
And the heart that had once been young spoke up
for Auld Lang Syne : the old eyes softened and
dropped : " God speed you, Boy — Good-bye ! " And
as the mail-coach rumbled off the Boy put up his head
— to try again.
The days passed, and still there was no work to do.
For, those who were there already — hardened men
and strong, pioneers who had roughed it — were
themselves in straitened case, and it was no place for
boys.
So the Boy moved on again, and with him a man in
equal plight, but, being a man, a guide and comfort
to the Boy, and one to lead him on the way. Hungry,
they walked all day ; yet when the sun went down
and light began to fail the place where work and food
and sleep should be was still far off. The mountain
tracks were rough and all unknown ; the rivers many,
cold and swift : the country wild ; none lived, few
ever passed, that way. When night closed in the Boy
walked on in front, and the man lagged wearily,
5
grumbling at their luck. In the valley at the mountain
foot they came at midnight upon water, black and
still, between them and the cabin's lights beyond ;
and there the man lay down. Then the Boy, turning
^ in his anger, bade him come on ; and, dragging him
^^ out upon the further bank, had found — unknowing
— some little of the fortune he had come to seek.
Still, morning brought no change ; still, was there
no work to do. So the man gave up, and sagging
back, was lost. And the Boy went on alone.
Rough and straight-spoken, but kindly men and true,
were those he came among. What they could they
did : what they had they gave. They made him
free of board and bed ; and, kinder still, now and then
made work for him to do, knowing his spirit was as
theirs and that his heart cried out : " Not charity,
but work ! Give me work ! " But that they could not
do, for there was no work they could not do themselves.
Thus the days and weeks went by. Willing, but
unused to fend for himself — unfit by training for the
wild rough life, heart and energy all to waste, the little
he did know of no value there — the struggle with the
ebbing tide went on ; it was the wearing hopeless fight
against that which one cannot grapple, and cannot
even see. There was no work to be done. A few days
here and there ; a little passing job ; a helping hand
disguised ; and then the quest again. They were all
friendly — but, with the kindly habit of the place : it
told the tale of hopelessness too well. They did not
even ask his name ; it made no difference.
6
u
Then came a day when there was nowhere else to
try. Among the lounging diggers at their week-end
deals he stood apart — too shy, too proud to tell the
truth ; too conscious of it to trust his voice ; too
hungry to smile as if he did not care ! And then a
man in muddy moleskins, with grave face, brown
beard, and soft blue eyes, came over to him, saying
straight : " Boy, you come along o' me ! " And he
went.
It was work — hard work. But the joy of it !
Shovelling in the- icy water, in mud and gravel, and
among the boulders, from early dawn to dark. What
matter ? It was work. It was not for hire, but just
to help one who had helped him ; to ' earn his
grub ' and feel he was a man, doing the work of his
friend's partner, * who was away.'
For three full weeks the Boy worked on ; grateful
for the toil ; grateful for the knowledge gained ;
most grateful that he could by work repay a kindness.
And then the truth came out ! The kindly fiction
fell away as they sat and rested on the day of rest.
" The claim could not stand two white men's grub "
had fallen from the man, accounting for his partner's
absence.
It was the simple and unstudied truth and calm
unconsciousness of where it struck that gave the thrust
its force ; and in the clear still air of the Sunday
morning the Boy turned hot and cold and dizzy to
think of his folly, and of the kindness he had so Ion
imposed upon. It was a little spell before his
7
lips
would smile, and eyes and voice were firm enough to
lie. Then he said gently : If he could be spared —
he had not liked to ask before, but now the floods
were over and the river turned perhaps it could be
managed — he would like to go, as there were letters
waiting, and he expected news.
Up the winding pathway over rocky ledge and
grassy slope, climbing for an hour to the pass, the toil
and effort kept the hot thoughts under. At the top
the Boy sat down to rest. The green rock-crested
mountains stood like resting giants all around : the
rivers, silvered by the sun, threaded their ways between :
the air was clear, and cool, and still. The world was
very beautiful from there.
Far, far below — a brownish speck beside the silver
streak — stood the cabin he had left. And, without
warning, all came back on him. What he had mastered
rose beyond control. The little child that lies hidden
in us all reached out — as in the dark — for a hand to
hold ; and there was none. His arms went up to
hide the mocking glory of the day, and, face buried in
the grass, he sobbed : " Not worth my food ! "
Science tells that Nature will recoup herself by
ways as well defined* as those that rule mechanics.
The blood flows upward — and the brain's awhirl.;
the ebb-tide sets — and there is rest. Whatever
impulse sways the guiding hand, we know that often
when we need it most there comes relief; gently,
unbidden, unobserved.
The Boy slept, and there was peace awhile. Then
came faint echoes of the waking thoughts — odd
words shot out, of hope and resolution ; murmured
names of those at home. Once his hand went out
and gently touched the turf, reaching for the friend
and comrade of the past — one who knew his every
mood, had heard his wildest dreams described, had
seen him, hot-eyed, breathless, struggling to escape
the cage ; one to whom the boyish soul was often
bared in foolish confidence ; one who could see and
hear and feel, yet never tell — a little red retriever
left at home ; and the boy stirred and sighed, for answer
to the soft brown eyes.
No ! It is not good for man to be alone.
A wisp of drifting cloud came by, a breath of cooler
air, and the fickle spirit of the mountain changed the
day as with a wand. The Boy woke up shivering,
dazed, bewildered : the mountain of his dreams had
vanished ; and his dog was not there ! The cold
driving mist had blotted out the world. Stronger and
stronger grew the wind, driving the damp cold through
and through ; for on the bleak plateau of the mountain
nothing broke its force.
Pale and shaken, and a little stiff, he looked about ;
then slowly faced the storm. It had not struck him
to turn back.
The gusts blew stronger, and through the mist came
rain, in single stinging drops — portents of the greater
storm. Slowly, as he bent to breast it, the chilled
blood warmed, and when the first thunderclap split
9
overhead, and lost itself in endless roars and rumblings
in the kloofs and hills around, there came a warmth
about his heart and a light into his eye — mute thanks-
giving that here was something he could battle with
and be a man again.
On the top of the world the storms work all their
fury. Only there come mist and wind and rain,
thunder and lightning and hail together — the pitiless
,, /^terrible hail : there, where the hare hiding in the grass
11 ^'- may know it is the highest thing in all God's world,
and nearest to the storm — the one clear mark to draw
the lightning — and, knowing, scurries to the sheltered
slopes.
But the Boy pressed on — the little path a racing
stream to guide him. Then in the one group of
ghostly, mist-blurred rocks he stopped to drink ; and,
as he bent — for all the blackness of the storm —
his face leaped out at him, reflected for one instant
in the shallow pool ; the blue-white flame of lightning,
blinding his aching eyes, hissed down ; the sickening
smell of brimstone spread about ; and crashing thunder
close above his head left him dazed and breathless.
Heedless of the rain, blinking the blackness from
his eyes, he sat still for head to clear, and limbs to
feel their life again ; and, as he waited, slowly there
came upon a colder stiller air that other roar, so far,
so dull, so uniform ; so weird and terrifying — the
voice of the coming hail.
Huddled beneath the shelving rock he watched the
storm sweep by with awful battering din that swamped
10
and silenced every other sound — the tearing, smashing
hail that seemed to strip the mountain to its very bone.
Oh ! the wanton fury of the hail ; the wild, destruc-
tive charge of hordes of savage cavalry ; the stamping,
smashing sweep along the narrow strip where all the
fury concentrates ; the long black trail of death and
desolation ! The birds and beasts, the things that
creep and fly, all know the portents, and all flee before
it, or aside. But in the darkness — in the night or
mist — the slow, the weak, the helpless, and the mothers
with their young — for them is little hope.
The dense packed column swept along, ruthless,
raging, and unheeding, overwhelming all. ... A
sudden failing of its strength, a little straggling tail,
and then — the silence !
The sun came out ; the wind died down ; light
veils of mist came slowly by — bits of floating gossamer
— and melted in the clear, pure air.
The Boy stepped out once more. Miles away the
black column of the falling hail sped its appointed
course. Under his feet, where all had been so green
and beautiful, was battered turf, for the time trans-
formed into a mass of dazzling brilliants, where
jagged ice-stones caught the sunlight on their countless
facets, and threw it back in one fierce flashing glare,
blinding in its brilliance.
On the glittering surface many things stood out.
In the narrow pathway near the spring a snake
lay on its back, crushed and broken ; beyond it,
a tortoise, not yet dead, but bruised and battered
IT
through its shell ; then a partridge — poor unprotected
thing — the wet feathers lying all around, stripped
as though a hawk had stricken it, and close behind it
all the little brood ; and further afield lay something
reddish-brown — a buck — the large eyes glazed, an ooze
of blood upon its lips and nose. He stooped to touch
it, but drew back : the dainty little thing was pulp.
All striving for the sheltering rocks ; all caught
and stricken by the ruthless storm ; and he, going
on to face it, while others fled before — he, blindly
fighting on — was spared. Was it luck ? Or was there
something subtle, more ? He held to this, that more
than chance had swayed the guiding hand of fate —
that fortune holds some gifts in store for those who
try ; and faith resurgent moved him to a mute Te
Deum, of which no more reached the conscious brain
than : " It is good to be alive ! But . . . better
so than in the cage."
Once more, a little of the fortune that he had come
to seek !
At sunset, passing down the long rough gorge, he
came upon one battling with the flood to save his
all — the white man struggling with the frightened
beasts ; the kaffir swept from off his feet ; the mad
bewildered oxen yielding to the stream and heading
downwards towards the falls — and in their utmost
need the Boy swam in and helped !
And there the long slow ebb was stayed : the Boy
was worth his food.
12
But how recall the life when those who made it set
so little store by all that passed, and took its ventures
for their daily lot ; when those who knew it had no
gift or thought to fix the colours of the fading past :
the fire of youth ; the hopes ; the toil ; the bright
illusions gone ! And now, the Story of a Dog to
conjure up a face, a name, a voice, or the grip of a
friendly hand ! And the half-dreamed sound of the
tramping feet is all that is left of the live procession
long since passed : the young recruits ; the laggards
and the faint ; the few who saw it through ; the
older men — grave-eyed, thoughtful, unafraid — who
judged the future by the battered past, and who knew
none more nor less than man — unconscious equals of
the best and least ; the grey-hued years ; the thin-
ning ranks ; the summons answered, as they had
lived — alone. The tale untold ; and, of all who
knew it, none left to picture now the life, none left
to play a grateful comrade's part, and place their
record on a country's scroll — the kindly, constant,
nameless Pioneers !
" DISTANT hills are always green," and the best
gold further on. That is a law of nature — human
nature — which is quite superior to facts ; and thus
the world moves on.
So from the Lydenburg Goldfields prospectors
'humping their swags' or driving their small
pack-donkeys spread afield, and transport-riders
with their long spans and rumbling waggons
followed, cutting a wider track where traders with
winding strings of carriers had already ventured
on. But the hunters had gone first. There were
great hunters whose names are known ; and others
as great who missed the accident of fame ; and
after them hunters who traded, and traders who
hunted. And so too with prospectors, diggers,
transport-riders and all.
Between the goldfields and the nearest port lay
the Bushveld, and game enough for all to live on.
Thus, all were hunters of a sort, but the
great hunters — the hunters of big game — were
apart ; we were the smaller fry, there to admire
and to imitate.
Trophies, carried back with pride
or by force of habit, lay scattered
about, neglected and forgotten, round the outspans,
the tents of lone prospectors, the cabins of the diggers,
and the grass wayside shanties of the traders. How
many a ' record ' head must have gone then, when
none had thought of time or means to save them !
Horns and skins lay in jumbled heaps in the yards or
sheds of the big trading stores. The splendid horns
of the Koodoo and Sable, and a score of others only
less beautiful, could be seen nailed up in crude
adornment of the roughest walls ; nailed up, and
then unnoticed and forgotten ! And yet not quite !
For although to the older hands they were of no
further interest, to the newcomer they spoke of
something yet to see, and something to be done ;
and the sight set him dreaming of the time when he
too would go a-hunting and bring his trophies home.
Perched on the edge of the Berg, we overlooked the
wonder-world of the Bushveld, where the big game
roamed in thousands and the " wildest tales were true."
Living on the fringe of a hunter's paradise, most of
us were drawn into it from time to time, for shorter
or longer spells, as opportunity and our circumstances
allowed ; and little by little one got to know the
names, appearances, and habits of the many kinds of
game below. Long talks in the quiet nights up there
under waggons, in grass shelters in the woods, or in
the wattle-and-daub shanties of the diggers, where
men passed to and fro and swapped lies, as the
polite phrase went, were our ' night's entertainments,'
when younger hands might learn much that was useful
and true, and more that was neither.
15
It was a school of grown-up schoolboys ; no doubt a
hard one, but it had its playground side, and it was
the habit of the school to * drop on to ' any breach
of the unwritten laws, to * rub in ' with remorseless
good humour the mistakes that were made, and to play
upon credulity with a shamelessness and nerve quite
paralysing to the judgment of the inexperienced.
Yet, with it all, there was a kindliness and quick instinct
of ' fair doos ' which tempered the wind and, in the
main, gave no one more than was good for him.
There the new boy had to run the gauntlet, and, if
without a watchful instinct or a friendly hint, there
was nothing to warn him of it. When Faulkner —
dragged to the piano — protested that he remembered
nothing but a mere ' morceau,' he was not conscious
of transgression, but a delighted audience caught up
the word, and thenceforth he was known only as
1 Ankore ' — Harry the Sailor having explained that
' more so ' was a recognised variant.
" Johnny-come-lately's got to learn " was held
to be adequate reason for letting many a beginner
buy his experience, while those who had been through
it all watched him stumble into the well-known pit-
falls. It would no doubt have been a much more com-
fortable arrangement all round had there been a polite
ignoring of each other's blunders and absurdities.
But that is not the way of schools where the spirit
of fun plays its useful part ; and, after all, the lesson
well ' rubbed in ' is well remembered.
The new assayer, primed by us with tales of Sable
Antelope round Macmac Camp, shot old Jim Hill's
16
only goat, and had to leave the carcase with a note
of explanation — Jim being out when he called. What
he heard from us when he returned, all prickly with
remorse and shame, was a liberal education ; but what
he remembers best is Jim's note addressed that evening
to our camp :
" Boys ! Jim Hill requests your company to dinner
to-morrow, Sunday !
" Mutton ! "
As the summer spent itself, and whispers spread
around of new strikes further on, a spirit of restlessness
— a touch of trek fever — came upon us, and each
cast about which way to try his luck. Our camp was
the summer headquarters of two transport-riders,
and when many months of hard work, timber-cutting
on the Berg, contracting for the Companies, pole-
slipping in the bush, and other things, gave us at last
a f rise,' it seemed the natural thing to put it all into
waggons and oxen, and go transport-riding too.
The charm of a life of freedom and complete in-
dependence— a life in which a man goes as and where
he lists, and carries his home with him — is great indeed ;
but great too was the fact that hunting would go
with it. _^,
How the little things that mark a new departure
stamp themselves indelibly on the memory ! A
flower in the hedgerow where the roads divide will
mark the spot in one's mind for ever ; and yet a million
more, before and after, and all as beautiful, are passed
unseen. In memory, it is all as fresh, bright and
glorious as ever : only the years have gone. The
1 7 B ^.^g
=%-;'4o ' ^V'UC«-V^'''' ,J&
start, the trek along the plateau, the crystal streams,
the ferns and trees, the cool pure air ; and, through
and over all, the quite intoxicating sense of freedom !
Then came the long slow climb to Spitzkop where
the Berg is highest and where our descent began.
For there, with Africa's contrariness, the highest parts
banked up and buttressed by gigantic spurs are most
accessible from below, while the lower edges of the
plateau are cut off sheer like the walls of some great
fortress. There, near Spitzkop, we looked down upon
the promised land ; there, stood upon the outmost
edge, as a diver on his board, and paused and looked
and breathed before we took the plunge.
It is well to pitch one's expectations low, and so
stave off disappointments. But counsels of perfection
are wasted on the young, and when accident combines
with the hopefulness of youth to lay the colours on
in all their gorgeousness, what chance has Wisdom ?
" See here, young feller ! '"* said Wisdom, " don't
go fill yourself up with tomfool notions 'bout lions
and tigers waitin' behind every bush. You won't
see one in a twelvemonth ! Most like you won't see
a buck for a week ! You don't know what to do,
what to wear, how to walk, how to look, or what
to look for ; and you'll make as much noise as a
traction engine. This ain't open country : it's bush ;
they can see and hear, and you can't. An' as for big
game, you won't see any for a long while yet, so don't
go fool yourself ! "
Excellent ! But fortune in a sportive mood or-
dained that the very first thing we saw as we out-
18
spanned at Saunderson's on the very first day in the
Bushveld, was the fresh skin of a lion stretched out
to dry. What would the counsels of Solomon himself
have weighed against that wet skin ?
Wisdom scratched its head and stared : " Well,
I am com — pletely sugared ! "
Of course it was a fluke. No lions had been seen
in the locality for several years ; but the beginner,
filled with all the wildest expectations, took no heed
of that. If the wish be father to the thought, then
surely fact may well beget conviction. It was so
in this case, at any rate, and thus not all the cold
assurances of Wisdom could banish visions of big
game as plentiful as partridges.
A party had set out upon a tiger hunt to clear out
one of those marauders who used to haunt the kloofs
of the Berg and make descents upon the Kaffir herds
of goats and sheep ; but there was a special interest
in this particular tiger, for he had killed one of the
white hunters in the last attempt to get at him a few
weeks before. Starting from the store, the party
of men and boys worked their way towards the kloof,
and the possibility of coming across a lion never
entered their heads. No notice was taken of smaller
game put up from time to time as they moved care-
lessly along ; a rustle on the left of the line was ignored,
and Bill Saunderson was as surprised as Bill ever could
be to see a lion facing him at something like six or
seven yards. ,., The lion, with head
laid level and tail ^^~^^^ flicking ominously,
half crouched /^^^ TT^ ' for its spring. Bill's
19
bullet glanced along the skull, peeling off the skin.
" It was a bad shot," he said afterwards, in answer to
the beginner's breathless questions. " He wasn't hurt :
just sank a little like a pointer when you check him ;
but before he steadied up again I took for the nose
and got him. You see," he added thoughtfully,
" a lion's got no forehead : it is all hair."
That was about all he had to say ; but, little store
as he may have set on it, the tip was never forgotten and
proved of much value to at least one of our party years
afterwards. To this day the picture of a lion brings
up that scene — the crouching beast, faced by a man
with a long brown beard, solemn face, and clear un-
faltering eyes ; the swift yet quiet action of reloading ;
and the second shot an inch or so lower, because " a
lion's got no forehead : it's all hair."
The shooting of a lion, fair and square, and face
to face, was the Blue Riband of the Bush, and no
detail would have seemed superfluous ; but Bill,
whose eye nothing could escape, had, like many great
hunters, a laggard tongue. Only now and then a
look of grave amusement lighted up his face to show
he recognised the hungry enthusiasm and his own
inability to satisfy it. The skin with the grazed
stripe along the nose, and the broken skull, were
handled and looked at many times, and the story
was pumped from every Kaffir — all voluble and eager,
but none eye-witnesses. Bob, the sociable and more
communicative, who had been nearest his brother,
was asked a hundred questions, but all he had to say
was that the grass was too long for him to see what
20
happened : he reckoned that it was " a pretty
near thing after the first shot ; but Bill's all right ! "
To me it was an absurd and tiresome affectation
to show interest in any other topic, and when, during
that evening, conversation strayed to other subjects,
it seemed waste of time and priceless opportunity.
Bob responded good-naturedly to many crude attempts
to head them back to the entrancing theme, but the
professional interest in rates, loads, rivers, roads,
disease, drought, and * fly,' was strong in the older
transport-riders, as it should have been, but, for the
time at least, was not, in me. If diplomacy failed,
however, luck was not all out ; for when all the pet
subjects of the road had been thrashed out, and it
was about time to turn in, a stray question brought
the reward of patience.
" Have you heard if Jim reached Durban all right ? "
" Yes ! Safely shipped."
" You got some one to take him right through ? "
" No ! A Dutchman took him to Lydenburg, and
I got Tom Hardy, going back empty, to take him along
from there."
" What about feeding ? "
" I sent some goats," said Bob, smiling for a moment
at some passing thought, and then went on : " Tom
said he had an old span that wouldn't mind it. We
loaded him up at Parker's, and I cleared out before
he got the cattle up. But they tell me there was a
gay jamboree when it came toinspanning ; and
as soon as they got up to the other waggons and
the young bullocks winded Jim, they started
21
off with their tails up — a regular stampede, voorloopers
and drivers yelling like mad, all the loose things
shaking out of the waggons, and Tom nearly in a
fit from running, shouting and swearing."
Judging by the laughter, there was only one person
present who did not understand the joke, and I had
to ask — with some misgiving — who was this Jim who
needed so much care and feeding, and caused such a
scare.
There was another burst of laughter as they guessed
my thoughts, and it was Bob who answered me :
" Only a lion, lad — not a wild man or a lunatic ! Only
a young lion ! Sold him to the Zoo, and had to
deliver him in Durban."
" Well, you fairly took me in with the name ! "
" Oh ! Jim ? Well that's his pet name. His
real name is Dabulamanzi. Jim, my hunting boy,
caught him, so we call him Jim out of compliment,"
he added with a grin. " But Jim called him Dabula-
manzi, also out of compliment, and I think that was
pretty good for a nigger."
" You see," said Bob, for the benefit of those who
were not up in local history, " Dabulamanzi, the big
fighting General in the Zulu War, was Jim's own chief
and leader ; and the name means ' The one who
conquers the waters.' :
Then one of the others exclaimed : " Oh ! Of
course, that's how you got him, isn't it : caught him
in a river ? Tell us what did happen, Bob. What's
the truth of it ? It seemed a bit steep as I heard
it."
22
" Well, it's really simple enough. We came right on
to the lioness waiting for us, and I got her ; and then
there were shouts from the boys, and I saw a couple
of cubs, pretty well grown, making off in the grass. f
This boy Jim legged it after one of them, a cub about
as big as a Newfoundland dog — not so high, but longer.
I followed as fast as I could, but he was a big Zulu
and went like a buck, yelling like mad all the time.
We were in the bend of one of the long pools down
near the Komati, and when I got through the reeds
the cub was at the water's edge facing Jim, and Jim
was dancing around heading it off with only one
light stick. As soon as it saw us coming on, the cub
took to the water, and Jim after it. It was as good
as a play. Jim swam up behind, and putting his
hand on its head ducked it right under : the cub turned
as it came up and struck out at him viciously, but he
was back out of reach : when it turned again to go
Jim ducked it again, and it went on like that six or
eight times, till the thing was half drowned and had
no more fight in it. Then Jim got hold of it by the
tail and swam back to us, still shouting and quite mad
with excitement.
" Of course," added Bob with a wag of his head,
" you can say it was only a cub ; but it takes a good
man to go up naked and tackle a thing like that, with
teeth and claws to cut you into ribbons."
" Was Jim here to-day ? " I asked, as soon as there
was an opening. Bob shook his head with a kindly
regretful smile. " No, Sonny, not here ; you'd 'a'
heard him. Jim's gone. I had to sack him. A real
23
fine nigger, but a terror to drink, and always in trouble.
He fairly wore me right out."
We were generally a party of half a dozen — the
owners of the four waggons, a couple of friends trading
with Delagoa, a man from Swaziland, and — just then
— an old Yankee hunter-prospector. It was our
holiday time, before the hard work with loads would
commence, and we dawdled along feeding up the
cattle and taking it easy ourselves.
It was too early for loads in the Bay, so we moved
slowly and hunted on the way, sometimes camping for
several days in places where grass and water were good ;
and that lion skin was the cause of many disappoint-
ments to me. Never a bush or ant-heap, never a
donga or a patch of reeds, did I pass for many days
after that without the conviction that something was
lurking there. Game there was in plenty, no doubt,
but it did not come my way. Days went by with,
once or twice, the sight of some small buck just as
it disappeared, and many times, the noise of something
in the bush or the sound of galloping feet. Others
brought their contributions to the pot daily, and there
seemed to be no reason in the world why I alone should
fail — no reason except sheer bad luck ! It is difficult
to believe you have made mistakes when you do
not know enough to recognise them, and have no
idea of the extent of your own ignorance ; and then
bad luck is such an easy and such a flattering
-, explanation ! If I did not go so far on the easy
road of excuse-making as to put all the failures
down to bad luck, perhaps some one else deserves the
credit.
One evening as we were lounging round the camp
fire, Robbie, failing to find a soft spot for his head
on a thorn log, got up reluctantly to fetch his blankets,
exclaiming with a mock tragic air :
" The time is out of joint ; O cursed spite,
That ever I was born to set it right."
We knew Robbie's way. There were times when he
would spout heroics, suggested by some passing trifle,
his own face a marvel of solemnity the whole time,
and only the amused expression in his spectacled grey
eyes to show he was poking fun at himself. An
indulgent smile, a chuckle, and the genial comment
" Silly ass ! " came from different quarters ; for Robbie
was a favourite. Only old Rocky maintained his usual
gravity.
As Robbie settled down again in comfort, the old
man remarked in level thoughtful tones : " I reckon
the feller as said that was a waster, he chucked it ! "
There was a short pause in which I, in my ignorance,
began to wonder if it was possible that Rocky did not
know the source; or did he take the quotation seriously ?
Then Robbie answered in mild protest : " It was
a gentleman of the name of Hamlet who said it."
" Well, you can bet he was no good, anyhow,"
Rocky drawled out. " ' Jus' my luck ! ' is the waster's
motto ! "
" They do say he was mad," Robbie replied, as
his face twitched with a pull-your-leg expression,
25
" but he got off a lot of first-class things all the
same — some of the best things ever said."
" I da' say ; they mostly can. But a man as sets
down and blames his luck is no good anyhow. He's
got no sand, and got no sense, and got no honesty !
It ain't the time's wrong : it's the man ! It ain't
the job's too big : it's the man's too little ! "
" You don't believe in luck at all, Rocky ? " I
ventured to put in.
" I don't say thar's no such thing as luck — good
and bad ; but it ain't the explanation o' success an'
failure — not by a long way. No, sirree, luck's just
the thing any man'd like ter believe is the reason for
his failure and another feller's success. But it ain't
so. When another man pulls off what you don't,
the first thing you got ter believe is it's your own
fault ; and the last, it's his luck. And you jus' got
ter wade in an' find out whar you went wrong, an'
put it right, 'thout any excuses an' explanations."
" But, Rocky, explanations aren't always excuses,
and sometimes you really have to give them ! "
" Sonny, you kin reckon it dead sure thar's some-
thing wrong 'bout a thing that don't explain itself ;
an' one explanation's as bad as two mistakes — it don't
fool anybody worth speaking of, 'cept yerself. You
find the remedy ; you can leave other folks put up
the excuses."
I was beaten. It was no use going on, for I knew he
was right. I suppose the other fellows also knew whom
he was getting at, but they said nothing ; and
-_ the subject seemed to have dropped, when Rocky,
26
harking back to Robbie's quotation, said, with a ghost
of a smile : " I reckon ef that sharp o' your'n hed
ter keep the camp in meat we'd go pretty nigh hungry."
But it seemed a good deal to give up all at once —
the bad luck, the excuses and explanations, and the
comfort they afforded ; and I could not help thinking
of that wretched wrong-headed stembuck that had
actually allowed me to pass it, and then cantered
away behind me.
Rocky, known, liked and respected by all, yet in-
timate with none, was l going North ' — even to the
Zambesi, it was whispered — but no one knew where
or why. He was going off alone, with two pack-
donkeys and not even a boy for company, on a trip
of many hundreds of miles and indefinite duration.
No doubt he had an idea to work out ; perhaps a report
of some trader or hunter or even native was his pole-
star : most certainly he had a plan, but what it was
no living soul would know. That was the way of his
kind. With them there was no limit in time or
distance, no hint of purpose or direction, no home,
no address, no * people ' ; perhaps a partner some-
where or a chum, as silent as themselves, who would
hear some day — if there was anything to tell.
Rocky had worked near our camp on the Berg. I
had known him to nod to, and when we met again
at one of the early outspans in the Bush and offered
a lift for him and his packs he accepted and joined us, |V^
it being still a bit early to attempt crossing the rivers g%
with pack-donkeys. It may be that the ' lift ' saved
his donkeys something on the roughest roads and in
27
the early stages ; or it may be that we served as a
useful screen for his movements, making it difficult
for any one else to follow his line and watch him.
Anyway, he joined us in the way of those days : that
is, we travelled together and as a rule we grubbed
together ; yet each cooked for himself and used his
own stores, and in principle we maintained our separate
establishments. The bag alone was common ; each
man brought what game he got and threw it into the
common stock.
The secret of agreement in the veld is — com-
plete independence ! Points of contact are points of
friction — nowhere more so ; and the safest plan
is, each man his own outfit and each free to feed or
sleep or trek as and when he chooses. I have known
partners and friends who would from time to time
move a trek apart, or a day apart, and always
camp apart when they rejoined ; and so remain
friends.
Rocky — in full, Rocky Mountain Jack — had another
name, but it was known to few besides the Mining
Commissioner's clerk who registered his licences from
time to time. "In the Rockies whar I was raised"
is about the only remark having deliberate reference
to his personal history which he was known to have
made ; but it was enough on which to found the name
by which we knew him.
What struck me first about him was the long Colt's
revolver, carried on his hip ; and for two days this
' gun,' as he called it, conjured up visions of Poker
Flat and Roaring Camp, Jack Hamlin and Yuba
28
Bill of cherished memory ; and then the inevitable
question got itself asked :
" Did you ever shoot a man, Rocky ? "
" No, Sonny," he drawled gently, " never hed ter
use it yet ! "
" It looks very old. Have you had it long ? "
" Jus' 'bout thirty years, I reckon ! "
" Oh ! Seems a long time to carry a thing without
using it ! "
" Waal," he answered half absently, " thet's so.
It's a thing you don't want orfen — but when you do,
you want it derned bad ! "
Rocky seemed to me to have stepped into our life
out of the pages of Bret Harte. For me the glamour
of romance was cast by the Master's spell over all that
world, and no doubt helped to make old Rocky some-
thing of a hero in the eyes of youth ; but such help
was of small account, for the cardinal fact was Rocky
himself. He was a man.
There did not seem to be any known region of the
earth where prospectors roam that he had not sampled,
and yet whilst gleaning something from every land,
his native flavour clung to him unchanged. He was
silent by habit and impossible to draw ; not helpful
to those who looked for short cuts, yet kindly and
patient with those who meant to try ; he was not to
be exploited, and had an illuminating instinct for
what was not genuine He had 'no use for short
weight ' — and showed it !
I used to watch him in the circle round the fire
at nights, his face grave, weather-stained and
29
wrinkled, with clear grey eyes and long brown beard,
slightly grizzled then — watch and wonder why Rocky,
experienced, wise and steadfast, should — at sixty —
be seeking still. Were the prizes so few in the pros-
pector's life ? or was there something wanting in
him too ? Why had he not achieved success ?
It was not so clear then that ideals differ. Rocky's
ideal was the life — not the escape from it. There
was something — sentiment, imagination, poetry, call
it what you will — that could make common success
seem to him common indeed and cheap ! To follow
in a new rush, to reap where another had sown, had
no charm for him. It may be that an inborn pride
disliked it ; but it seems more likely that it simply did
not attract him. And if — as in the end I thought —
Rocky had taken the world as it is and backed himself
against it — living up to his ideal, playing a * lone
hand ' and playing it fair in all conditions, treading
the unbeaten tracks, finding his triumph in his work,
always moving on and contented so to end : the
crown, " He was a man ! " — then surely Rocky's had
achieved success !
That is Rocky, as remembered now ! A bit ideal-
ised ? Perhaps so : but who can say ! In truth
he had his sides and the defects of his qualities, like
every one else ; and it was not every one who made
a hero of him. Many left him respectfully alone ;
and something of their feeling came to me the first
time I was with him, when a stupid chatterer talked
and asked too much. He was not surly or taciturn,
but I felt frozen through by a calm deadly unrespon-
30
siveness which anything with blood and brain should
have shrunk under. The dull monotone, the ominous
drawl, the steady something in his clear calm eyes 3
which I cannot define, gave an almost corrosive effect
to innocent words and a voice of lazy gentleness.
" What's the best thing to do following up a
wounded buffalo ? " was the question. The questions
sprung briskly, as only a ' yapper ' puts them ; and
the answers came like reluctant drops from a filter.
" Git out ! "
" Yes, but if there isn't time ? "
" Say yer prayers ! "
" No — seriously — what is the best way of tackling
one ? "
" Ef yer wawnt to know, thar's only one way :
Keep cool and shoot straight ! "
" Oh ! of course — if you can ? "
" An' ef you can't," he added in fool-killer tones,
" best stay right home ! "
Rocky had no fancy notions : he hunted for meat
and got it as soon as possible; he was seldom out long,
and rarely indeed came back empty-handed. I had
already learnt not to be too ready with questions.
It was better, so Rocky put it, " to keep yer eyes open
and yer mouth shut " ; but the results at first hardly
seemed to justify the process. At the end of a week
of failures and disappointments all I knew was that
I knew nothing — a very notable advance it is true,
but one quite difficult to appreciate ! Thus it came
to me in the light of a distinction when one evening,
after a rueful confession of blundering made to the
31
party in general, Rocky passed a brief but not un-
friendly glance over me and said, " On'y the born fools
stays fools. You'll git ter learn bymbye ; you ain't
always yappin' ! "
It was not an extravagant compliment ; but failure
and helplessness act on conceit like water on a starched
collar : mine was limp by that time, and I was grateful
for little things — most grateful when next morning, as
we were discussing our several ways, he turned to me
and asked gently, " Comin' along, Boy ? "
Surprise and gratitude must have produced a touch
of effusiveness which jarred on him ; for, to the eager
exclamation and thanks, he made no answer — just
moved on, leaving me to follow. In his scheme of
life there was * no call to slop over.'
There was a quiet unhesitating sureness and a
definiteness of purpose about old Rocky's movements
which immediately inspired confidence. We had not
been gone many minutes before I began to have visions
of exciting chases and glorious endings, and as we
walked silently along they took possession of me so com-
pletely that I failed to notice the difference between
his methods and mine. Presently, brimful of excite-
ment and hope, I asked cheerily what he thought we
would get. The old man stopped and with a gentle
graveness of look and a voice from which all trace of
tartness or sarcasm was banished, said, " See, Sonny !
If you been useter goin' round like a dawg with a
tin it ain't any wonder you seen nothin'. You got
ter walk soft an' keep yer head shut ! "
In reply to my apology he said that there was " no
32
bell an* curtain in this yere play ; you got ter be thar
waitin'."
Rocky knew better than I did the extent of his
good nature ; he knew that in all probability it meant
a wasted day ; for, with the best will in the world,
the beginner is almost certain to spoil sport. It
looks so simple and easy when you have only read
about it or heard others talk ; but there are pit-
falls at every step. When, in what seemed to me
perfectly still air, Rocky took a pinch of dust and let
it drop, and afterwards wet one finger and held it
up to feel which side cooled, it was not difficult to
know that he was trying the wind ; but when he
changed direction suddenly for no apparent reason,
or when he stopped and, after a glance at the ground,
slackened his frame, lost all interest in sport, wind
and surroundings, and addressed a remark to me in
ordinary tones, I was hopelessly at sea. His manner
showed that some possibility was disposed of and some
idea abandoned. Once he said " Rietbuck ! Heard
us I reckon," and then turned off at a right-angle ;
but a little later on he pointed to other spoor and,
indifferently dropping the one word ' Koodoo,' con-
tinued straight on. To me the two spoors seemed
equally fresh ; he saw hours' — perhaps a whole day's —
difference between them. That the rietbuck, scared
by us, had gone ahead and was keenly on the watch for
us and therefore not worth following, and that the
koodoo was on the move and had simply struck across
our line and was therefore not to be overtaken, were
conclusions he drew without hesitation. I only saw
33 c •
spoor and began to palpitate with thoughts of bagging
a koodoo bull.
We had been out perhaps an hour, and by unceasing
watchfulness I had learnt many things : they were
about as well learnt and as useful as a sentence in a
foreign tongue got off by heart ; but to me they
seemed the essentials and the fundamentals of hunting.
I was feeling very pleased with myself and confident
of the result ; the stumbling over stones and stumps
had ceased ; and there was no more catching in thorns,
crunching on bare gritty places, clinking on rocks,
or crackling of dry twigs ; and as we moved on in silence
the visions of koodoo and other big game became very
real. There was nothing to hinder them : to do as
Rocky did had become mechanically easy; a glance
in his direction every now and then was enough ;
there was time and temptation to look about and still
perhaps to be the first to spot the game.
It was after taking one such casual glance around
that I suddenly missed Rocky : a moment later I
saw him moving forward, fast but silently, under cover
of an ant-heap — stooping low and signing to me with
one hand behind his back. With a horrible feeling
of having failed him I made a hurried step sideways
to get into line behind him and the ant-heap, and I
stepped right on to a pile of dry crackly sticks. Rocky
, stood up quietly and waited, while I wished the earth
would open and swallow me. When I got up abreast
lie half turned and looked me over with eyes slightly
narrowed and a faint but ominous smile on one side
of his mouth, and drawled out gently :
34
" You'd oughter brought some fire crackers !
If only he had sworn at me it would have been
endurable.
We moved on again and this time I had eyes for
nothing but Rocky's back, and where to put my foot
next. It was not very long before he checked in
midstride and I stood rigid as a pointer. Peering
intently over his shoulder in the direction in which
he looked I could see nothing. The bush was very
open, and yet, even with his raised rifle to guide me,
1 could not for the life of me see what he was aiming
at. Then the shot rang out, and a duiker toppled over
kicking in the grass not a hundred yards away.
The remembrance of certain things still makes me
feel uncomfortable ; the yell of delight I let out as
the buck fell ; the wild dash forward, which died
away to a dead stop as I realised that Rocky himself
had not moved ; the sight of him, as I looked back,
calmly reloading ; and the silence. To me it was
an event : to him, his work. But these things were
forgotten then — lost behind the everlasting puzzle,
How was it possible I had not seen the buck until it
fell ? Rocky must have known what was worrying
me, for, after we had picked up the buck, he remarked
without any preliminary, " It ain't easy in this bush
ter pick up what don't move ; an' it ain't hardly
possible ter find what ye don't know ! "
" Game you mean ? " I asked, somewhat puzzled.
" This one was feeding," he answered, after a nod
in reply. " I saw his head go up ter listen ; but
when they don't move, an' you don't jus' know what
35
they look like, you kin 'most walk atop o' them. You
got ter kind o' shape 'em in yer eye, an' when you got
that fixed you kin pick 'em up 'most anywhere ! "
It cost Rocky an effort to volunteer anything.
There were others always ready to talk and advise ;
$but they were no help. It was Rocky himself who
once said that " the man who's allus offerin' his
advice fer nothin' 's askin' 'bout 's much 's it's worth."
He seemed to run dry of words — like an overdrawn
well. For several days he took no further notice of
me, apparently having forgotten my existence or
repented his good nature. Once, when in reply to
a question, I was owning up to the hopes and chances
and failures of the day, I caught his attentive look
turned on me and was conscious of it — and a little
apprehensive — for the rest of the evening ; but nothing
happened.
The following evening however it came out. I
had felt that that look meant something, and that
sooner or later I would catch it. It was characteristic
of him that he could always wait, and I never felt
quite safe with him — never comfortably sure that
something was not being saved up for me for some
mistake perhaps days old. He was not to be hurried,
nor was he to be put off, and nobody ever interrupted
him or headed him off. His quiet voice was never
raised, and the lazy gentleness never disturbed ; he
seemed to know exactly what he wanted to say, and
to have opening and attention waiting for him. I
suppose it was partly because he spoke so seldom :
but there was something else too — the something that
36
was just Rocky himself. Although the talk appeared
the result of accident, an instinct told me from the
start that it was not really so : it was Rocky's slow
and considered way.
The only dog with us was licking a cut on her
shoulder — the result of an unauthorised rush at a
wounded buck — and after an examination of her wound
we had wandered over the account of how she had got
it, and so on to discussing the dog herself. Rocky
sat in silence, smoking and looking into the fire, and
the little discussion was closed by some one saying,
" She's no good for a hunting dog — too plucky ! "
It was then I saw Rocky's eyes turned slowly on the
last speaker : he looked at him thoughtfully for a
good minute, and then remarked quietly :
" Thar ain't no sich thing as too plucky ! " And
with that he stopped, almost as if inviting contradic-
tion. Whether he wanted a reply or not one cannot
say; anyway, he got none. No one took Rocky on
unnecessarily ; and at his leisure he resumed :
" Thar's brave men ; an' thar's fools ; an' you kin
get some that's both. But thar's a whole heap that
ain't ! An' it's jus' the same with dawgs. She's
no fool, but she ain't been taught : that's what's
the matter with her. Men ha' got ter larn : dawgs
too ! Men ain't born equal : no more's dawgs !
One's born better 'n another — more brains, more
heart ; but I ain't yet heard o' the man born with
knowledge or experience ; that's what they got ter
learn — men an' dawgs ! The born fool's got to do
fool's work all the time : but the others larn ; and
37 -^
the brave man with brains 's got a big pull. He
don't get shook up — jus' keeps on thinkin' out his
job right along, while the other feller's worryin'
about his hide ! An' dawgs is the same."
Rocky's eyes — for ever grave and thoughtful —
rested on the fire ; and the remarks that came from
the other men passed unnoticed, but they served to
keep the subject alive. Presently he went on again —
opening with an observation that caused me to move
uneasily before there was time to think why !
" Boys is like pups — you got ter help 'em some ;
but not too much, an' not too soon. They got ter
larn themselves. I reckon ef a man's never made
a mistake he's never had a good lesson. Ef you don't
pay for a thing you don't know what it's worth ;
and mistakes is part o' the price o' knowledge — the
other part is work ! But mistakes is the part you don't
like payin' : thet's why you remember it. You save
a boy from makin' mistakes and ef he's got good stuff
in him, most like you spoil it. He don't know any-
thing properly, 'cause he don't think ; and he don't
think, 'cause you saved him the trouble an' he never
learned how ! He don't know the meanin' o'
consequences and risks, 'cause you kep' 'em off
him ! An' bymbye he gets ter believe it's born in him
ter go right, an' knows everything, an' can't go wrong ;
an' ef things don't pan out in the end he reckon it's
jus' bad luck ! No ! Sirree ! Ef he's got ter swim you
let him know right there that the water's deep an'
thar ain't no one to hoi' him up, an' ef he don't
wade in an' larn, it's goin' ter be his funeral ! "
38
My eyes were all for Rocky, but he was not looking
my way, and when the next remark came, and my heart
jumped and my hands and feet moved of their own
accord, his face was turned quite away from me
towards the man on his left.
" An' it's jus' the same 'ith huntin' ! It looks
so blamed easy he reckons it don't need any teachin'.
Well, let him try ! Leave him run on his own till his
boots is walked off an' he's like to set down and cry,
ef he wasn't 'shamed to ; let him know every pur-
tickler sort o' blamed fool he can make of himself ;
an' then he's fit ter teach, 'cause he'll listen, an' watch,
an' learn — an' say thank ye fer it ! Mostly you got
ter make a fool o' yourself once or twice ter know
what it feels like an' how t' avoid it : best do it
young — it teaches a boy ; but it kind o' breaks a man
up!"
I kept my eyes on Rocky, avoiding the others,
fearing that a look or word might tempt some one to
rub it in ; and it was a relief when the old man
naturally and easily picked up his original point and,
turning another look on Jess, said :
" You got ter begin on the pup. It ain't her
fault ; it's yours. She's full up o' the right stuff,
but she got no show to larn ! Dawgs is all
different, good an' bad — just like men : some larns
quick ; some'll never larn. But thar ain't any too
plucky ! "
He tossed a chip of green wood into the heart of
the fire and watched it spurtle and smoke, and
after quite a long pause, added :
39
" Thar's times when a dawg's got to see it through
an' be killed. It's his dooty — same as a man's. I seen
it done ! "
The last words were added with a narrowing of his
eyes and a curious softening of voice — as of personal
affection or regret. Others noticed it too ; and in
reply to a question as to how it had happened Rocky
explained in a few words that a wounded buffalo had
waylaid and tossed the man over its back, and as it
turned again to gore him the dog rushed in between,
fighting it off for a time and eventually fastening on
to the nose when the buffalo still pushed on. The
check enabled the man to reach his gun and shoot
the buffalo ; but the dog was trampled to death.
" Were you . . . ? " some one began — and then
at the look in Rocky's face, hesitated. Rocky, staring
into the fire, answered :
" It was my dawg ! "
Long after the other men were asleep I lay in my
blankets watching the tricks of light and shadow played
by the fire, as fitfully it flamed or died away. It
snowed the long prostrate figures of the others as
they slept full stretch on their backs, wrapped in
dark blankets ; the waggons, touched with unwonted
colours by the flames, and softened to ghostly shadows
when they died ; the oxen, sleeping contentedly at
their yokes ; Rocky's two donkeys, black and grey,
tethered under a thorn-tree — now and then a long ear
moving slowly to some distant sound and dropping
back again satisfied. I could not sleep ; but Rocky
40
V'' . ^^fjR&Mi fer.
was sleeping like a babe. He, gaunt and spare —
6 ft. 2 he must have stood — weather-beaten and old,
with the long solitary trip before him and sixty odd
years of life behind, he slept when he laid his head
down, and was wide awake and rested when he raised
it. He, who had been through it all, slept ; but I,
who had only listened, was haunted, bewitched,
possessed, by racing thoughts ; and all on account of
four words, and the way he said them, " It was my
dawg."
It was still dark, with a faint promise of saffron in
the East, when I felt a hand on my shoulder and heard
Rocky's voice saying, " Comin' along, Sonny ? "
One of the drivers raised his head to look at us as
we passed, and then called to his voorlooper to turn
the cattle loose to graze, and dropped back to sleep.
We left them so and sallied out into the pure clear
morning while all the world was still, while the air,
cold and subtly stimulating, put a spring into the
step and an extra beat or two into the pulse, fairly
rinsing lungs and eyes and brain.
What is there to tell of that day ? Why ! nothing,
really nothing, except that it was a happy day — a day
of little things that all went well, and so it came to
look like the birthday of the hunting. What did
it matter to me that we were soaked through in ten
minutes ? for the dew weighed down the heavy-
topped grass with clusters of crystal drops that looked
like diamond sprays. It was all too beautiful for
words : and so it should be in the spring-time of
youth.
41
Rocky was different that day. He showed me
things ; reading the open book of nature that I could
not understand. He pointed out the spoors going to
and from the drinking-place, and named the various
animals ; showed me one more deeply indented than
the rest and, murmuring " Scared I guess," pointed to
where it had dashed off out of the regular track ;
picked out the big splayed pad of the hyena sneaking
round under cover ; stopped quietly in his stride to
point where a hare was sitting up cleaning itself, not
ten yards off ; stopped again at the sound of a clear,
almost metallic, ' clink ' and pointed to a little sandy
gully in front of us down which presently came thirty
or forty guinea-fowl in single file, moving swiftly,
running and walking, and all in absolute silence except
for that one l clink.' How did he know they were
there, and which way they would go, and know it all
so promptly ? were questions I asked myself.
We walked with the sun — that is towards the West —
so that the light would show up the game and be in
their eyes, making it more difficult for them to see
us. We watched a little red stembuck get up from
his form, shake the dew from his coat, stretch himself,
and then pick his way daintily through the wet grass,
nibbling here and there as he went. Rocky did not
fire ; he wanted something better.
After the sun had risen, flooding the whole country
with golden light, and, while the dew lasted, making
it glisten like a bespangled transformation scene, we
came on a patch of old long grass and, parted by some
twenty yards, walked through it abreast. There was a
42
wild rush from under my feet, a yellowish body dashed
through the grass, and I got out in time to see a rietbuck
ram cantering away. Then Rocky, beside me, gave
a shrill whistle ; the buck stopped, side on, looked
back at us, and Rocky dropped it where it stood.
Instantly following the shot there was another rush
on our left, and before the second rietbuck had gone
thirty yards Rocky toppled it over in its tracks. From
the whistle to the second shot it was all done in about ten
seconds. To me it looked like magic. I could only gasp.
We cleaned the bucks, and hid them in a bush.
There was meat enough for the camp then, and I
thought we would return at once for boys to carry it ;
but Rocky, after a moment's glance round, shouldered
his rifle and moved on again. I followed, asking no
questions. We had been gone only a few minutes
when to my great astonishment he stopped and point-
ing straight in front asked:
" What 'ud you put up for that stump ? "
I looked hard, and answered confidently, " Two
hundred ! "
" Step it ! " was his reply. I paced the distance ;
it was eighty-two yards.
It was very bewildering ; but he helped me out a
bit with " Bush telescopes, Sonny ! "
" You mean it magnifies them ? " I asked in surprise.
" No ! Magnifies the distance, like lookin' down
an avenue ! Gun barr'l looks a mile long when you
put yer eye to it ! Open flats brings 'em closer ; and
'cross water or a gully seems like you kin put yer hand
on 'em ! "
43
" I would have'missed — by feet — that time Rocky ! "
" You kin take it fer a start, Halve the distance
and aim low ! "
" Aim low, as well ? "
" Thar's allus somethin' low : legs, an' ground to
show what you done ! But thar's no ' outers ' marked
on the sky ! "
Once, as we walked along, he paused to look at some
freshly overturned ground, and dropped the one word,
* Pig.' We turned then to the right and presently
came upon some vlei ground densely covered with
tall green reeds. He slowed down as we approached ;
I tip-toed in sympathy ; and when only a few yards
off he stopped and beckoned me on, and as I came
abreast he raised his hand in warning and pointed
into the reeds. There was a curious subdued sort of
murmur of many deep voices. It conveys no idea
of the fact to say they were grunts. They were
softened out of all recognition : there is only one word
for it, they sounded ' confidential.' Then as we
listened I could make out the soft silky rustling of the
rich undergrowth, and presently, could follow, by
the quivering and waving of odd reeds, the move-
ments of the animals themselves. They were only
a few yards from us — the nearest four or five ; they
were busy and contented ; and it was obvious they
were utterly unconscious of our presence. As we
peered down to the reeds from our greater height it
seemed that we could see the ground and that not
so much as a rat could have passed unnoticed. Yet
we saw nothing !
44
And then, without the slightest sign, cause or warn-
ing that I could detect, in one instant every sound
ceased. I watched the reeds like a cat on the pounce :
never a stir or sign or sound : they had vanished.
I turned to Rocky : he was standing at ease, and there
was the faintest look of amusement in his eyes.
" They must be there ; they can't have got away ? "
It was a sort of indignant protest against his evident
* chucking it ' ; but it was full of doubt all the
same.
" Try ! " he said, and I jumped into the reeds
straight away. The under-foliage, it is true, was
thicker and deeper than it had looked ; but for all that
it was like a conjuring trick — they were not there !
I waded through a hundred yards or more of the narrow
belt — it was not more than twenty yards wide any-
where— but the place was deserted. It struck me
then that if they could dodge us at five to ten yards
while we were watching from the bank and they
did not know it — Well, I ' chucked it ' too. Rocky
was standing in the same place with the same faint
look of friendly amusement when I got back, wet and
muddy.
" Pigs is like that," he said, " same as elephants —
jus' disappears ! "
We went on again, and a quarter of an hour later, it
may be, Rocky stopped, subsided to a sitting position,
beckoned to me, and pointed with his levelled rifle
in front. It was a couple of minutes before he could
get me to see the stembuck standing in the shade of
a thorn tree. I would never have seen it but for his
whisper to look for something moving : that gave it
to me ; I saw the movement of the head as it cropped.
" High : right ! " was Rocky's comment, as the
bullet ripped the bark off a tree and the startled
stembuck raced away. In the excitement I had for-
gotten his advice already !
But there was no time to feel sick and disgusted ;
the buck, puzzled by the report on one side and the
smash on the tree on the other, half circled us and
stopped to look back. Rocky laid his hand on my
shoulder :
" Take your time, Sonny ! " he said, " Aim low ;
an' don't 'pull ! Squeeze ! " And at last I got it.
We had our breakfast there — the liver roasted on the
coals, and a couple of 'dough-boys,' with the unexpected
addition of a bottle of cold tea, weak and unsweetened,
produced from Rocky's knapsack ! We stayed there
a couple of hours, and that is the only time he really
opened out. I understood then — at last — that of his
deliberate kindliness he had come out that morning
meaning to make a happy day of it for a youngster ;
and he did it.
He had the knack of getting at the heart of things,
and putting it all in the fewest words. He spoke in
the same slow grave way, with habitual economy of
breath and words ; and yet the pictures were living
and real, and each incident complete. I seemed to
get from him that morning all there was to know
of the hunting in-^two great continents — Grizzlies
and other ' bar,' Moose and Wapiti, hunted in the
snows of the North West ; Elephant, Buffalo, Rhino,
Lions, and scores more, in the sweltering heat of
Africa !
That was a happy day !
When I woke up next morning Rocky was fitting
the packs on his donkeys. I was a little puzzled,
wondering at first if he was testing the saddles, for he
had said nothing about moving on; but when he joined
us at breakfast the donkeys stood packed ready to start.
Then Robbie asked :
" Going to make a move, Rocky ? "
" Yes ! Reckon I'll git ! " he answered quietly.
I ate in silence, thinking of what he was to face :
many hundreds of miles — perhaps a thousand or two ;
many, many months — may be a year or two ; wild
country, wild tribes, and wild beasts ; floods and fever ;
accident, hunger, and disease ; and alone !
When we had finished breakfast he rinsed out his
beaker and hung it on one of the packs, slung his rifle
over his shoulder, and picking up his long assegai-
wood walking-stick tapped the donkeys lightly to
turn them into the Kaffir footpath that led away
North. They jogged on into place in single file.
Rocky paused a second before following, turned one
brief grave glance on us, and
said :
"Well. So long!"
He never came back !
GOOD dogs were not easy to get ; I had tried hard
enough for one before starting, but without success.
Even unborn puppies had jealous prospective owners
waiting to claim them.
There is always plenty of room at the top of the
tree, and good hunting dogs were as rare as good
men, good horses, and good front-oxen. A lot of
qualities are needed in the make-up of a good hunting
dog : size, strength, quickness, scent, sense and speed —
and plenty of courage. They are very very difficult
to get ; but even small dogs are useful, and many a
fine feat stands to the credit of little terriers in guarding
camps at night and in standing off wounded animals
that meant mischief.
Dennison was saved from a wounded lioness by his
two fox terriers. He had gone out to shoot bush-
pheasants, and came unexpectedly on a lioness playing
with her cubs : the cubs hid in the grass, but she stood
up at bay to protect them, and he, forgetting that he
had taken the big ' looper ' cartridges from his gun
and reloaded with No. 6, fired. The shot only
maddened her, and she charged ; but the two dogs
dashed at her, one at each side, barking, snapping and
yelling, rushing in and jumping back so fast and
furiously that they flustered her. Leaving the man
for the moment, she turned on them, dabbing viciously
with her huge paws, first at one, then at the other ;
quick as lightning she struck right and left as a kitten
will at a twirled string ; but they kept out of reach.
It only lasted seconds, but that was long enough for
the man to reload and shoot the lioness through the
heart.
There was only the one dog in our camp ; and she
was not an attractive one. She was a bull terrier
with a dull brindled coat — black and grey in shadowy
stripes. She had small cross-looking eyes and un-
certain always-moving ears ; she was bad tempered
and most unsociable ; but she was as faithful and as
brave a dog as ever lived. She never barked ; never
howled when beaten for biting strangers or kaffirs or
going for the cattle ; she was very silent, very savage,
and very quick. She belonged to my friend Ted,
and never left his side day or night. Her name was
Jess.
Jess was not a favourite, but everybody respected
her, partly because you knew she would not stand
any nonsense — no pushing, patting or punishment,
and very little talking to — and partly be-
cause she was so faithful and plucky. She
was not a hunting dog, but on several
49 D
occasions had helped to pull down wounded
ame ; she had no knowledge or skill, and was only
erce and brave, and there was always the risk
that she would be killed. She would listen to Ted,
but to no one else ; one of us might have shouted
his lungs out, but it would not have stopped her from
giving chase the moment she saw anything and keeping
on till she was too dead beat to move any further.
The first time I saw Jess we were having dinner,
and I gave her a bone — putting it down close to her
and saying, " Here ! good dog ! " As she did not
even look at it, I moved it right under her nose. She
gave a low growl, and her little eyes turned on me
for just one look as she got up and walked away.
There was a snigger of laughter from some of the
others, but nobody said anything, and it seemed
wiser to ask no questions just then. Afterwards,
when we were alone, one of them told me Ted had
trained her not to feed from any one else, adding,
" You must not feed another man's dog ; a dog has
only one master ! "
We respected Jess greatly ; but no one knew quite
how much we respected her until the memorable day
near Ship Mountain.
We had rested through the heat of the day under
a big tree on the bank of a little stream ; it was the
tree under which Soltke prayed and died. About
sundown, just before we were ready to start, some
other waggons passed, and Ted, knowing the owner,
went on with him intending to rejoin us at the next
outspan. As he jumped on to the passing waggon
50
he called to Jess, and she ran out of a patch of soft
grass under one of the big trees behind our waggons.
She answered his call instantly, but when she saw
him moving off on the other waggon she sat down
in the road and watched him anxiously for some
seconds, then ran on a few steps in her curious quick
silent way and again stopped, giving swift glances
alternately towards Ted and towards us. Ted re-
marked laughingly that she evidently thought he had
made a mistake by getting on to the wrong waggon,
and that she would follow presently.
After he had disappeared she ran back to her patch
of grass and lay down, but in a few minutes she was
back again squatting in the road looking with that
same anxious worried expression after her master.
Thus she went to and fro for the quarter of an hour
it took us to inspan, and each time she passed we could
hear a faint anxious little whine.
The oxen were inspanned and the last odd things
were being put up when one of the boys came to say
that he could not get the guns and water-barrel
because Jess would not let him near them. There was
something the matter with the dog, he said ; he
thought she was mad.
Knowing how Jess hated kaffirs we laughed at the
notion, and went for the things ourselves. As we
came within five yards of the tree where we had left
the guns there was a rustle in the grass, and Jess came
out with her swift silent run, appearing as unexpectedly
as a snake does, and with some odd suggestion of a
snake in her look and attitude. Her head, body and
51
tail were in a dead line, and she was crouching slightly
as for a spring ; her ears were laid flat back, her lips
twitching constantly, showing the strong white teeth,
and her cross wicked eyes had such a look of remorseless
cruelty in them that we stopped as if we had been
turned to stone. She never moved a muscle or made
a sound, but kept those eyes steadily fixed on us.
We moved back a pace or two and began to coax and
wheedle her ; but it was no good ; she never moved
or made a sound, and the unblinking look remained.
For a minute we stood our ground, and then the hair
on her back and shoulders began very slowly to stand
up. That was enough : we cleared off. It was a
mighty uncanny appearance.
Then another tried his hand ; but it was just the
same. No one could do anything with her ; no one
could get near the guns or the water-barrel ; as soon
as we returned for a fresh attempt she reappeared in
the same place and in the same way.
The position was too ridiculous, and we were at our
wits' end ; for Jess held the camp. The kaffirs declared
the dog was mad, and we began to have very un-
comfortable suspicions that they were right ; but we
decided to make a last attempt, and surrounding the
place approached from all sides. But the suddenness
with which she appeared before we got into position
so demoralised the kaffirs that they bolted, and we gave
it up, owning ourselves beaten. We turned to watch her
as she ran back for the last time, and as she disappeared
in the grass we heard distinctly the cry of a very young
puppy. Then the secret of Jess's madness was out.
52
We had to send for Ted, and when he returned a
couple of hours later Jess met him out on the road
in the dark where she had been watching half the time
ever since he left. She jumped up at his chest giving
a long tremulous whimper of welcome, and then ran
ahead straight to the nest in the grass.
He took a lantern and we followed, but not too close.
When he knelt down to look at the puppies she stood
over them and pushed herself in between him and
them ; when he put out a hand to touch them she
pushed it away with her nose, whining softly in pro- ^
test and trembling with excitement — you could see
she would not bite, but she hated him to touch her
puppies. Finally, when he picked one up she gave a
low cry and caught his wrist gently, but held it.
That was Jess, the mother of Jock !
THERE were six- .puppies, and as the waggons were
empty we fixed up a roomy nest in one of them for
Jess and£her family. There was no trouble with Jess ;
nobody interfered with her, and she interfered with
nobody. The boys kept clear of her ; but we used
to take a look at her and the puppies as we walked
along with the waggons ; so by degrees she got to
know that we would not harm them, and she no longer
wanted to eat us alive if we went near and talked to
her.
Five of the puppies were fat strong yellow little
chaps with dark muzzles — just like their father, as
Ted said ; and their father was an imported dog,
and was always spoken of as the best dog of the breed
that had ever been in the country. I never saw him,
so I do not really know what he was like — perhaps
he was not a yellow dog at all ; but, whatever he was,
he had at that time a great reputation because he was
' imported,' and there were not half a dozen imported
dogs in the whole of the Transvaal then. Many
people used to ask what breed the puppies were — I
suppose it was because poor cross faithful old Jess was
not much to look at, and because no one had a very
high opinion of yellow dogs in general, and nobody
seemed to remember any famous yellow bull-terriers.
They used to smile in a queer way when they asked
the question, as if they were going to get off a joke ;
but when we answered " Just like their father —
Buchanan's imported dog," the smile disappeared,
and they would give a whistle of surprise and say
" By Jove ! " and immediately begin to examine the
five yellow puppies, remark upon their ears and noses
and legs, and praise them up until we were all as proud
as if they had belonged to us.
Jess looked after her puppies and knew nothing
about the remarks that were made, so they did not
worry her, but I often looked at the faithful old thing
with her dark brindled face, cross-looking eyes and
always-moving ears, and thought it jolly hard lines that
nobody had a good word for her ; it seemed rough on
her that every one should be glad there was only one
puppy at all like the mother — the sixth one, a poor
miserable little rat of a thing about half the size of
the others. He was not yellow like them, nor dark
brindled like Jess, but a sort of dirty pale half-and-
half colour with some dark faint wavy lines all over
him, as if he had tried to be brindled and failed ; and
he had a dark sharp wizened little muzzle that looked
shrivelled up with age.
Most of the fellows said it would be a good thing to '<
drown the odd one because he spoilt the litter and made |
55
them look as though they were not really thorough-
bred, and because he was such a miserable little rat
that he was not worth saving anyhow ; but in the end
he was allowed to live. I believe no one fancied the
job of taking one of Jess's puppies away from her ;
moreover, as any dog was better than none, I had offered
to take him rather than let him be drowned. Ted
had old friends to whom he had already promised
the pick of the puppies, so when I came along it
was too late, and all he could promise me was that
if there should be one over I might have it.
As they grew older and were able to crawl about
they were taken off the waggons when we outspanned
and put on the ground. Jess got to understand this
at once, and she used to watch us quite quietly as
we took them in our hands to put them down or
lift them back again. When they were two or three
weeks old a man came to the waggons who talked a
great deal about dogs, and appeared to know what
had to be done. He said that the puppies' tails
ought to be docked, and that a bull-terrier would be
no class at all with a long tail, but you should on no
account clip his ears. I thought he was speaking of
fox-terriers, and that with bull-terriers the position
was the other way round, at that time ; but as he
said it was 'the thing' in England, and nobody
contradicted him, I shut up. We found out after-
wards that he had made a mistake ; but it was too
late then, and Jess's puppies started life as bull- terriers
up to date, with long ears and short tails.
I felt sure from the beginning that all
56
the yellow puppies would be claimed and that I should
have to take the odd one, or none at all ; so I began to
look upon him as mine already, and to take an interest in
him and look after him. A long time ago somebody
wrote that " the sense of possession turns sand into
gold," and it is one of the truest things ever said.
Until it seemed that this queer-looking odd puppy
was going to be mine I used to think and say very much
what the others did — but with this difference, that I
always felt sorry for him, and sorry for Jess too, because
he was like her and not like the father. I used to
think that perhaps if he were given a chance he might
grow up like poor old Jess herself, ugly, cross and
unpopular, but brave and faithful. I felt sorry for
him, too, because he was small and weak, and the other
five big puppies used to push him away from his food
and trample on him ; and when they were old enough
to play they used to pull him about by his ears and
pack on to him — three or four to one — and bully him
horribly. Many a time I rescued him, and many a
time gave him a little preserved milk and water with
bread soaked in it when the others had shouldered
him out and eaten everything.
After a little while, when my chance of getting
one of the good puppies seemed hopeless and I got
used to the idea that I would have to take the odd
one, I began to notice little things about him that
no one else noticed, and got to be quite fond of the
little beggar — in a kind of way. Perhaps I was turning
my sand into gold, and my geese into swans ; perhaps
I grew fond of him simply because, finding him lonely
57
and with no one else to depend on, I befriended him ;
and perhaps it was because he was always cheerful
and plucky and it seemed as if there might be some
good stuff in him after all. Those were the things I
used to think of sometimes when feeding the little
outcast. The other puppies would tumble him over
and take his food from him ; they would bump into
him when he was stooping over the dish of milk and
porridge, and his head was so big and his legs so weak
that he would tip up and go heels over head into the
dish. We were always picking him out of the food
and scraping it off him : half the time he was wet
and sticky, and the other half covered with porridge
and sand baked hard by the sun.
One day just after the waggons had started, as I
took a final look round the outspan place to see if
anything had been forgotten, I found the little chap
— who was only about four inches high — struggling
to walk through the long grass. He was not big enough
or strong enough to push his way — even the stems of
the down-trodden grass tripped him — and he stumbled
and floundered at every step, but he got up again
each time with his little tail standing straight up,
his head erect, and his ears cocked. He looked such
a ridiculous sight that his little tragedy of " lost in
the veld " was forgotten — one could only laugh.
What he thought he was doing, goodness only
knows ; he looked as proud and important as if he
owned the whole world and knew that every one in
it was watching him. The poor little chap could not
see a yard in that grass ; and in any case he was not
58
old enough to see much, or understand anything,
for his eyes still had that bluish blind look that all
very young puppies have, but he was marching along
as full of confidence as a general at the head of his
army. How he fell out of the waggon no one knew ;
perhaps the big puppies tumbled him out, or he may
have tried to follow Jess, or have climbed over the
tail-board to see what was the other side, for he was
always going off exploring by himself. His little
world was small, it may be — only the bedplank of the
waggon and the few square yards of the ground on
which they were dumped at the outspans — but he
took it as seriously as any explorer who ever tackled a
continent.
The others were a bit more softened towards the
odd puppy when I caught up to the waggons and told
them of his valiant struggle to follow ; and the man
who had docked the puppies' tails allowed, " I believe
the rat's got pluck, whatever else is the matter with
him, for he was the only one that didn't howl when
I snipped them. The little cuss just gave a grunt
and turned round as if he wanted to eat me. I
think he'd 'a' been terrible angry if he hadn't been so
s'prised. Pity he's such an awful-looking mongrel."
But no one else said a good word for him : he was
really beneath notice, and if ever they had to speak
about him they called him " The Rat." There is
no doubt about it he was extremely ugly, and instead
of improving as he grew older, he became worse ; yet,
I could not help liking him and looking after him,
sometimes feeling sorry for him, sometimes being
59
tremendously amused, and sometimes — wonderful to
relate — really admiring him. He was extraordinarily
silent ; while the others barked at nothing, howled
when lonely, and yelled when frightened or hurt,
the odd puppy did none of these things ; in fact, he
began to show many of Jess's peculiarities ; he hardly
ever barked, and when he did it was not a wild excited
string of barks but little suppressed muffled noises,
half bark and half growl, and just one or two at a
time ; and he did not appear to be afraid of anything,
so one could not tell what he would do if he was.
One day we had an amusing instance of his nerve :
one of the oxen, sniffing about the outspan, caught
sight of him all alone, and filled with curiosity came
up to examine him, as a hulking silly old tame ox will
do. It moved towards him slowly and heavily with its
ears spread wide and its head down, giving great big
sniffs at this new object, trying to make out what it
was. " The Rat " stood quite still with his stumpy tail
cocked up and his head a little on one side, and when
the huge ox's nose was about a foot from him he
gave one of those funny abrupt little barks. It was
as if the object had suddenly ' gone off ' like a cracker,
and the ox nearly tumbled over with fright ; but
even when the great mountain of a thing gave a clumsy
plunge round and trotted off, " The Rat " was not
the least frightened ; he was startled, and his tail and
ears flickered for a second, but stiffened up again
instantly, and with another of those little barks he
took a couple of steps forward and cocked his head
on the other side. That was his way.
60
He was not a bit like the other puppies ; if any one
fired off a gun or cracked one of the big whips the
whole five would yell at the top of their voices and,
wherever they were, would start running, scrambling
and floundering as fast as they could towards the
waggon without once looking back to see what they
were running away from. The odd puppy would drop
his bone with a start or would jump round ; his ears
and tail would flicker up and down for a second ;
then he would slowly bristle up all over, and with his
head cocked first on one side and then on the other,
stare hard with his half-blind bluish puppy eyes in
the direction of the noise ; but he never ran away.
And so, little by little, I got to like him in spite of
his awful ugliness. And it really was awful ! The
other puppies grew big all over, but the odd one
at that time seemed to grow only in one part — his
tummy ! The poor little chap was born small and
weak ; he had always been bullied and crowded out
by the others, and the truth is he was half starved.
The natural consequence of this was that as soon
as he could walk about and pick up things for himself
he made up for lost time, and filled up his middle
piece to an alarming size before the other parts of
his body had time to grow ; at that time he looked
more like a big tock-tockie beetle than a dog.
Besides the balloon-like tummy he had stick-out
bandy-legs, very like a beetle's too, and a neck so thin
that it made the head look enormous, and you wondered
how the neck ever held it up. But what made him so
supremely ridiculous was that he evidently did not
61
know he was ugly ; he walked about as if he was
always thinking of his dignity, and he had that puffed-
out and stuck-up air of importance that you only see
in small people and bantam cocks who are always
trying to appear an inch taller than they really
are.
When the puppies were about a month old, and
could feed on porridge or bread soaked in soup or
gravy, they got to be too much for Jess, and she used
to leave them for hours at a time and hide in the grass
so as to have a little peace and sleep. Puppies are
always hungry, so they soon began to hunt about for
themselves, and would find scraps of meat and porridge
or old bones ; and if they could not get anything else,
would try to eat the raw-hide nekstrops and reims.
Then the fights began. As soon as one puppy saw
another busy on anything, he would walk over towards
him and, if strong enough, fight him for it. All
day long it was nothing but wrangle, snarl, bark and
yelp. Sometimes four or five would be at it in one
scrum ; because as soon as one heard a row going on
he would trot up hoping to steal the bone while the
others were busy "fighting.
It was then that I noticed other things about the
odd puppy : no matter how many packed on to him,
or how they bit or pulled him, he never once let out
a yelp ; with four or five on top of him you would
see him on his back, snapping right and left with bare
white teeth, gripping and worrying them when he
got a good hold of anything, and all the time growling
and snarling with a fierceness that was really comical.
62
w • 1 1 J'A * k^^^-rO^
It sounded as a lion fight might sound in a toy phono-
graph.
Before many days passed, it was clear that some
of the other puppies were inclined to leave " The
Rat " alone, and that only two of them — the two
biggest — seemed anxious to fight him and could take
his bones away. The reason soon became apparent :
instead of wasting his breath in making a noise, or
wasting strength in trying to tumble the others over,
" The Rat " simply bit hard and hung on ; noses, ears,
lips, cheeks, feet and even tails — all came handy to
him ; anything he could get hold of and hang on to
was good enough, and the result generally was that
in about half a minute the other puppy would leave
everything and clear off yelling, and probably holding
up one paw or hanging its head on one side to ease a
chewed ear.
When either of the big puppies tackled the little
fellow the fight lasted much longer. Even if he were
tumbled over at once — as generally happened — and
the other one stood over him barking and growling,
that did not end the fight : as soon as the other chap
got off him he would struggle up and begin again ;
he would not give in. The other puppies seemed to
think there was some sort of rule like the * count out '
in boxing, or that once you were tumbled over you
ought to give up the bone ; but the odd puppy
apparently did not care about rules ; as far as I could
see, he had just one rule : " Stick to it," so it was not
very long before even the two big fellows gave up
interfering with him. The bites from his little white
63
..~vSW
teeth — sharp as needles — which punctured noses and
feet and tore ears, were most unpleasant. But apart
from that, they found there was nothing to be gained
by fighting him: they might roll him over time
after time, but he came back again and worried
them so persistently that it was quite impossible to
enjoy the bone — they had to keep on fighting for it.
At first I drew attention to these things, but there
was no encouragement from the others ; they merely
laughed at the attempt to make the best of a bad job.
Sometimes owners of other puppies were nettled by
having their beauties compared with " The Rat,"
or were annoyed because he had the cheek to fight
for his own and beat them. Once, when I had
described how well he had stood up to Billy's pup,
Robbie caught up " The Rat," and placing him on the
table, said : " Hats off to the Duke of Wellington
on the field of Waterloo." That seemed to me the
poorest sort of joke to send five grown men into fits
of laughter. He stood there on the table with his
head on one side, one ear standing up, and his stumpy
tail twiggling — an absurd picture of friendliness,
pride and confidence ; yet he was so ugly and ridicu-
lous that my heart sank, and I whisked him away.
They made fun of him, and he did not mind ; but it
was making fun of me too, and I could not help
knowing why ; it was only necessary to put the puppies
together to see the reason.
After that I stopped talking about
him, and made the most of
the good points he showed,
and tried to discover more. It was the only consolation ,;
for having to take the leavings of the litter.
Then there came a day when something happened
which might easily have turned out very differently,
and there would have been no stories and no Jock
to tell about ; and the best dog in the world would
never have been my friend and companion. The
puppies had been behaving very badly, and had stolen
several nekstrops and chewed up parts of one or two
big whips ; the drivers were grumbling about all the
damage done and the extra work it gave them ; and
Ted, exasperated by the worry of it all, announced that
the puppies were quite old enough to be taken away,
and that those who had picked puppies must take them
at once and look after them, or let some one else have
them. When I heard him say that my heart gave a
little thump from excitement, for I knew the day had
come when the great question would be settled once
and for all. Here was a glorious and unexpected chance ;
perhaps one of the others would not or could not
take his, and I might get one of the good ones. . . .
Of course the two big ones would be snapped up :
that was certain ; for, even if the men who had
picked them could not take them, others who
had been promised puppies before me would
exchange those they had already chosen for the
better ones. Still, there were other chances ; and^
I thought of very little else all day long, wondering
if any of the good ones would be left ; and if so,
which ?
In the afternoon Ted came up to where we were
65 E
all lying in the shade and startled us with the momen-
tous announcement :
" Billy Griffiths can't take his pup ! "
Every man of us sat up. Billy's pup was the first
pick, the champion of the litter, the biggest and
strongest of the lot. Several of the others said at
once that they would exchange theirs for this one ;
but Ted smiled and shook his head.
" No," he said, " you had a good pick in the begin-
ning." Then he turned to me, and added : " You've
only had leavings." Some one said " The Rat," and
there was a shout of laughter, but Ted went on ;
"^You can have Billy's pup."
It seemed too good to be true ; not even in my
wildest imaginings had I fancied myself getting the
pick of the lot. I hardly waited to thank Ted before
going off to look at my champion. I had seen and
admired him times out of number, but it seemed as
if he must look different now that he belonged to me.
He was a fine big fellow, well built and strong, and
looked as if he could beat all the rest put together.
His legs were straight ; his neck sturdy ; his muzzle
dark and shapely ; his ears equal and well carried ;
and in the sunlight his yellow coat looked quite bright,
with occasional glints of gold in it. He was indeed a
handsome fellow.
As I put him back again with the others the odd
puppy, who had stood up and sniffed at me when I
came, licked my hand and twiddled his tail with the
friendliest and most independent air, as if he knew me
quite well and was glad to see me, and I patted the
66
poor little chap as he waddled up. I had forgotten
him in the excitement of getting Billy's pup ; but the
sight of him made me think of his funny ways, his pluck
and independence, and of how he had not a friend in
the world except Jess and me ; and I felt downright
sorry for him. I picked him up and talked to him ;
and when his wizened little face was close to mine,
he opened his mouth as if laughing, and shooting
out his red tongue dabbed me right on the tip of my
nose in pure friendliness. The poor little fellow
looked more ludicrous than ever : he had been feeding
again and was as tight as a drum ; his skin was so
tight one could not help thinking that if he walked
over a mimosa thorn and got a scratch on the tummy
he would burst like a toy balloon.
I put him back with the other puppies and returned
to the tree where Ted and the rest were sitting. As
I came up there was a shout of laughter, and — turning
round to see what had provoked it — I found " The
Rat " at my heels. He had followed me and was
trotting and stumbling along, tripping every yard
or so, but getting up again with head erect, ears cocked
and his stumpy tail twiddling away just as pleased
and proud as if he thought he had really started in life
and was doing what only a ' really and truly ' grown-
up dog is supposed to do — that is, follow his master
wherever he goes.
All the old chaff and jokes were fired off at me again,
and I had no peace for quite a time. They all had
something to say : " He won't swap you off ! " " I'll
back * The Rat ' ! " " He is going to take care
67
of
you ! " " He is afraid you'll get lost ! " and so on ;
and they were still chaffing about it when I grabbed
" The Rat " and took him back again.
Billy's failure to take his puppy was so entirely
unexpected and so important that the subject kept
cropping up all the evening. It was very amusing
then to see how each of those who had wanted to get
him succeeded in finding good reasons for thinking
that his own puppy was really better than Billy's.
However they differed in their estimates of each
other's dogs, they all agreed that the best judge in
the world could not be certain of picking out the best
dog in a good litter until the puppies were several
months old ; and they all gave instances in which
the best looking puppy had turned out the worst
dog, and others in which the one that no one would
look at had grown up to be the champion. Goodness
knows how long this would have gone on if Robbie
had not mischievously suggested that " perhaps * The
Rat ' was going to beat the whole lot." There was
such a chorus of guffaws at this that no one told any
more stories.
The poor little friendless Rat ! It was unfortunate,
but the truth is that he was uglier than before ; and
yet I could not help liking him. I fell asleep that night
thinking of the two puppies — the best and the
worst in the litter. No sooner had I gone over all
the splendid points in Billy's pup and made up my
mind that he was certainly the finest I had ever seen,
than the friendly wizened little face, the half-cocked
ears and head on one side, the cocky little stump of
68
a tail, and the comical dignified plucky look of the
odd puppy would all come back to me. The thought
of how he had licked my hand and twiddled his tail
at me, and how he dabbed me on the nose, and then
the manful way in which he had struggled after me
through the grass, all made my heart go soft to-
wards him, and I fell asleep not knowing what
to do.
When I woke up in the morning, my first thought
was of the odd puppy — how he looked to me as his
only friend, and what he would feel like if, after looking
on me as really belonging to him and as the one person
that he was going to take care of all his life, he knew
he was to be left behind or given away to any one who
would take him. It would never have entered his
head that he required some one to look after him ;
from the way he had followed me the night before
it was clear he was looking after me ; and the other
fellows thought the same thing. His whole manner
had plainly said : " Never mind old man ! Don't
you worry : I am here."
We used to make our first trek at about three
o'clock in the morning, so as to be outspanned by
sunrise ; and walking along during that morning
trek I recalled all the stories that the others had told
of miserable puppies having grown into wonderful
dogs, and of great men who had been very ordinary
children ; and at breakfast I took the plunge.
" Ted," I said, bracing myself
for the laughter, " if you don't
mind, I'll stick to « The Rat.' "
69
If I had fired off a gun under their noses they would
have been much less startled. Robbie made a grab
for his plate as it slipped from his knees.
" Don't do that sort of thing ! " he protested
indignantly. " My nerves won't stand it ! "
The others stopped eating and drinking, held their
beakers of steaming coffee well out of the way to get
a better look at me, and when they saw it was seriously
meant there was a chorus of :
" Well, I'm hanged."
I took him in hand at once — for now he was really
mine — and brought him over for his saucer of soaked
bread and milk to where we sat at breakfast. Beside
me there was a rough camp table — a luxury sometimes
indulged in while camping or trekking with empty
waggons — on which we put our tinned-milk, treacle
and such things to keep them out of reach of the
ants, grasshoppers, Hottentot-gods, beetles and dust.
I put the puppy and his saucer in a safe place under
the table out of the way of stray feet, and sank the
saucer into the sand so that when he trod in it he
would not spill the food ; for puppies are quite stupid
as they are greedy, and seem to think that they can
eat faster by getting further into the dish. He
appeared to be more ravenous than usual, and we were
all amused by the way the little fellow craned his thin
neck out further and further until he tipped up behind
and his nose bumping into the saucer see-sawed him
back again. He finished it all and looked round briskly
at me, licking his lips and twiddling his stumpy tail.
70
Well, I meant to make a dog of him, so I gave him
another lot. He was just like a little child — he
thought he was very hungry still and could eat any
amount more ; but it was not possible. The lapping
became slower and more laboured, with pauses every
now and then to get breath or lick his lips and look
about him, until at last he was fairly beaten : he could
only look at it, blink and lick his chops ; and, knowing
that he would keep on trying, I took the saucer away.
He was too full to object or to run after it ; he was too
full to move. He stood where he was, with his legs
well spread and his little body blown out like a balloon,
and finished licking the drops and crumbs off his face
without moving a foot.
There was something so extraordinarily funny in
the appearance and attitude of the puppy that we
watched to see what he would do next. He had been
standing very close to the leg of the table, but not
quite touching it, when he finished feeding ; and even
after he had done washing his face and cleaning up
generally, he stood there stock still for several minutes,
as though it was altogether too much trouble to move.
One little bandy hind leg stuck out behind the table-
leg, and the bulge of his little tummy stuck out in
front of it ; so that when at last he decided to make
a move the very first little lurch brought his hip up
against the table-leg. In an instant the puppy's appear-
ance changed completely : the hair on his back and
shoulders bristled ; his head went up erect ; one ear stood
up straight and the other at half cock ; and his stumpy
tail quivered with rage. He evidently ^
thought that one of the other puppies had come up be-
hind to interfere with him. He was too proud to turn
round and appear to be nervous : with head erect
he glared hard straight in front of him, and, with all
the little breath that he had left after his big feed, he
growled ferociously in comical little gasps. He stood
like that, not moving an inch, with the front foot
still ready to take that step forward ; and then, as
nothing more happened, the hair on his back gradually
went flat again ; the fierceness died out of his face ; and
the growling stopped.
After a minute's pause, he again very slowly and
carefully began to step forward ; of course exactly
the same thing happened again, except that this
time he shook all over with rage, and the growling
was fiercer and more choky. One could not imagine
anything so small being in so great a rage. He took
longer to cool down, too, and much longer before
he made the third attempt to start. But the third
time it was all over in a second. He seemed to think
that this was more than any dog could stand, and that
he must put a stop to it. The instant his hip touched
the leg, he whipped round with a ferocious snarl —
his little white teeth bared and gleaming — and bumped
his nose against the table-leg.
I cannot say whether it was because of the shout
of laughter from us, or because he really understood
what had happened, that he looked so foolish, but he
just gave one crestfallen look at me and with a feeble
wag of his tail waddled off as fast as he could.
Then Ted nodded over at me, and said : " I believe
you have got the champion after all ! "
And I was too proud to speak.
AFTER that day no one spoke of " The Rat " or " The
Odd Puppy," or used any of the numberless nicknames
that they had given him, such as " The Specimen,"
" The Object," " No. 6," " Bully Beef " (because he
got his head stuck in a half-pound tin one day), " The
Scrap " ; and even " The Duke of Wellington " ceased
to be a gibe. They still laughed at his ridiculous
dignity ; and they loved to tease him to see him stiffen
with rage and hear his choky little growls ; but they
liked his independence and admired his tremendous
pluck. So they respected his name when he got one.
And his name was " Jock."
No one bothered about the other puppies' names :
they were known as " Billy's pup," " Jimmy's pup,"
" Old Joe's Darling," " Yellow Jack," and " Bandy-
Legged Sue " ; but they seemed to think that this little
chap had earned his name, fighting his way without any-
body's help and with everything against him ; so they
gave up all the nicknames and spoke of him as " Jock."
Jock got such a good advertisement by his fight with
the table-lee that /r~V every one took notice of
<
71
him now and remarked about what he did; and as he was
only a very young puppy, they teased him, fed him,
petted him, and did their best to spoil him. He was
so young that it did not seem to matter, but I think
if he had not been a really good dog at heart he would
have been quite spoilt.
He soon began to grow and fill out ; and it was
then that he taught the other puppies to leave him
alone. If they had not interfered with him he might
perhaps have left them alone, as it was not his nature
to interfere with others ; but the trouble was they
had bullied him so much while he was weak and help-
less that he got used to the idea of fighting for every-
thing. It is probably the best thing that could have
happened to Jock that as a puppy he was small and
weak, but fufl of pluck ; it compelled him to learn
how to fight ; it made him clever, cool, and careful,
for he could not afford to make mistakes. When he
fought he meant business ; he went for a good spot,
bit hard, and hung on for all he was worth ; then,
as the enemy began to slacken, he would start
vigorously worrying and shaking. I often saw him
shake himself off his feet, because the thing he was
fighting was too heavy for him.
The day Jock fought the two big puppies — one
after the other — for his bone, and beat them off, was
the day of his independence ; we all saw the tussle,
and cheered the little chap. And then for one whole
day he had peace ; but it was like the pause at low
water before the tide begins to flow the other way.
He was so used to being interfered with that I suppose
74
he did not immediately understand they would never
tackle him again.
It took a whole day for him to realise this ; but as
soon as he did understand it he seemed to make up
his mind that now his turn had come, and he went
for the first puppy he saw with a bone. He walked
up slowly and carefully, and began to make a circle
round him. When he got about half-way round the
puppy took up the bone and trotted off ; but Jock
headed him off at once, and again began to walk
towards him very slowly and stiffly. The other
puppy stood quite still for a moment, and then Jock's
fierce determined look was too much for him : he
dropped the bone and bolted.
There was mighty little but smell on those bones,
for we gave the puppies very little meat, so when Jock
had taken what he could off this one, he started on
another hunt. A few yards away Billy's pup was
having a glorious time, struggling with a big bone
and growling all the while as if he wanted to let the
world know that it was as much as any one's life was
worth to come near him. None of us thought Jock
would tackle him, as Billy's pup was still a long way
the biggest and strongest of the puppies, and always
ready to bully the others.
Jock was about three or four yards away when he
caught sight of Billy's pup, and for about a minute
he stood still and quietly watched. At first he seemed
surprised, and then interested, and then gradually
he stiffened up all over in that funny way of his ;
and when the hair on his shoulders was all on end and
75
his ears and tail were properly up, he moved forward
very deliberately. In this fashion he made a circle
round Billy's pup, keeping about two feet away from
him, walking infinitely slowly and glaring steadily
at the enemy out of the corners of his eyes ; and
while he was doing this, the other fellow was tearing
away at his bone, growling furiously and glaring side-
ways at Jock. When the circle was finished they stood
once more face to face ; and then after a short pause
Jock began to move in closer, but more slowly even
than before.
Billy's pup did not like this : it was beginning to
look serious. He could not keep on eating and at
the same time watch Jock; moreover, there was such
a very unpleasant wicked look about Jock, and he moved
so steadily and silently forward, that any one would
feel a bit creepy and nervous ; so he put his paw on
the bone and let out a string of snarly barks, with his
ears flat on his neck and his tail rather low down.
But Jock still came on — a little more carefully and
slowly perhaps, but just as steadily as ever. When
about a foot off the enemy's nose he changed his
direction slightly, as if to walk past, and Billy's pup
turned his head to watch him, keeping his nose pointed
towards Jock's, but when they got side by side he
again looked straight in front of him.
Perhaps he did this to make sure the bone was still
there, or perhaps to show his contempt when he
thought Jock was going off. Whatever the reason
was, it was a mistake ; for, as he turned his head away,
Jock flew at him, got a good mouthful of ear, and in
no time they were rolling and struggling in the dust —
Jock's little grunts barely audible in the noise made
by the other one. Billy's pup was big and strong,
and he was not a coward ; but Jock was worrying his
ear vigorously, and he could not find anything to bite
in return. In less than a minute he began to howl,
and was making frantic efforts to get away. Then
Jock let go the ear and tackled the bone.
After that he had no more puppy fights. As soon
as any one of the others saw Jock begin to walk slowly
and carefully towards him he seemed to suddenly get
tired of his bone, and moved off.
Most dogs — like most people — when their hearts
fail them will try to hide the truth from one another
and make some sort of effort or pretence to keep their
dignity or self-respect or the good opinion of others.
You may see it all any day in the street, when dogs
meet and stop to ' size ' each other up. As a rule
the perfectly shameless cowards are found in the two
extreme classes — the outcasts, whose spirits are broken
by all the world being against them ; and the pam-
pered darlings, who have never had to do anything
for themselves. Many dogs who are clearly anxious
to get out of fighting will make a pretence of bravery
at the time, or at least cover up their cowardice, with
a ' wait-till-I-catch-you-next-time ' air, as soon as
they are at a safe distance. Day after day at the out-
spans the puppies went through every stage of the
business, to our constant amusement and to my
unconcealed pride ; for Jock was thenceforth cock
of the walk. If they saw him some distance off
77
moving towards them or even staring hard and with
his ears and tail up, the retreat would be made with
a gloomy and dignified air, sometimes even with growls
just loud enough to please themselves without provok-
ing him ; if he was fairly close up when spotted they
wasted no time in putting on airs, but trotted off
promptly ; but sometimes they would be too busy
to notice anything until a growl or a rustle in the
grass close behind gave warning ; and it was always
followed by a jump and a shameless scuttle, very often
accompanied by a strangled sort of yowling yelp, just
as if he had already got them by the ear or throat.
Some of them became so nervous that we could
not resist playing practical jokes on them — making
sudden strange noises, imitating Jock's growls, tossing
bits of bark at them or touching them from behind
with a stick while they were completely occupied with
their bones — for the fun of seeing the stampede and
hearing the sudden howls of surprise and fright.
One by one the other puppies were taken away by
their new masters, and before Jock was three months
old he and Jess were the only dogs with the waggons.
Then he went to school, and like all schoolboys learnt
some things very quickly — the things that he liked ;
and some things he learnt very slowly, and hated them
just as a boy hates extra work in play-time. When I
poked about with a stick in the banks of dongas to
turn out mice and field-rats for him, or when I hid a
partridge or a hare and made him find it, he was as
happy as could be ; but when I made him lie down
and watch my gun or coat while I pretended to go
78
off and leave him, he did not like it ; and as for his
lessons in manners ! well, he simply hated them.
There are some things which a dog in that sort of
life simply must learn or you cannot keep him ; and
the first of these is, not to steal. Every puppy will
help himself until he is taught not to ; and your dog
lives with you and can get at everything. At the out-
spans the grub-box is put on the ground, open for
each man to help himself ; if you make a stew, or roast
the leg of a buck, the big three-legged pot is put
down handy and left there ; if you are lucky enough
to have some tinned butter or condensed milk, the
tins are opened and stood on the ground ; and if you
have a dog thief in the camp, nothing is safe.
There was a dog with us once — a year or two later —
who was the worst thief I ever knew. He was a one-
eyed pointer with feet like a duck's, and his name was
Snarleyow. He looked the most foolish and most
innocent dog in the world, and was so timid that if
you stumbled as you passed him he would instantly
start howling and run for the horizon. The first
bad experience I had of Snarley was on one of the
little hunting trips which we sometimes made in
those days, away from the waggons. We travelled
light on those occasions, and, except for some tea
and a very little flour and salt, took no food ; we
lived on what we shot and of course kept ' hunter's pot.'
' Hunter's pot ' is a perpetual stew ; you make
one stew, and keep it going as long as necessary, main-
taining a full pot^,^ by adding
to it as fast as you /-. take any out :
^~=^~ '= — ' -^^^==~ — 5^ JHTri *•* •
79
scraps of everything go in ; any kind of meat — buck,
bird, pig, hare — and if you have such luxuries as
onions or potatoes so much the better ; then, to
make the soup strong, the big bones are added —
the old ones being fished out every day and replaced
by a fresh lot. When allowed to cool it sets like
brawn, and a hungry hunter wants nothing better.
We had had a good feed the first night of this trip
and had then filled the pot up leaving it to simmer
as long as the fire lasted, expecting to have cold
pie set in jelly — but without the pie-crust — for early
breakfast next morning before going off for the day ;
but, to our amazement, in the morning the pot was
empty. There were some strange kaffirs — camp
followers — hanging on to our trail for what they could
pick up, and we suspected them. There was a great
row, but the boys denied having touched the pot,
and we could prove nothing.
That night we made the fire close to our sleeping-
place and moved the kaffirs further away, but next
morning the pot was again empty — cleaned and
polished as if it had been washed out. While we,
speechless with astonishment and anger, were wonder-
ing who the thief was and what we should do with
him, one of the hunting boys came up and pointed
to the prints of a dog's feet in the soft white
ashes of the dead fire. There was only one
word : " Snarleyow." The thief was lying
fast asleep comfortably curled up on
his master's clothes. There could
be no mistake about those big
80
*' THE LAST WE SAW OF OUR BIRTHDAY TREAT*'
splayed footprints, and in about two minutes Snar-
leyow was getting a first-class hammering, with his
head tied inside the three-legged pot for a lesson.
After that he was kept tied up at night ; but
Snarleyow was past curing. We had practically
nothing to eat but what we shot, and nothing to drink
but bush tea — that is, tea made from a certain wild
shrub with a very strong scent ; it is not nice, but
you drink it when you cannot get anything else.
We could not afford luxuries then, but two days
before Ted's birthday he sent a runner off to Komati
Drift and bought a small tin of ground coffee and a
tin of condensed milk for his birthday treat. It was
to be a real feast that day, so he cut the top off the
tin instead of punching two holes and blowing the
milk out, as we usually did in order to economise
and keep out the dust and insects. What we could
not use in the coffee that day we were going to spread
on our * doughboys ' instead of butter and jam. It
was to be a real feast !
The five of us sat down in a circle and began on
our hunter's pot, saving the good things for the last.
While we were still busy on the stew, there came a
pathetic heartbreaking yowl from Snarleyow, and
we looked round just in time to see him, his tail tucked
between his legs and his head high in the air, bolting
off into the bush as hard as he could lay legs to the
ground, with the milk tin stuck firmly on to his nose.
The greedy thief in trying to get the last scrap out had
dug his nose and top jaw too far in, and the jagged edges
of the tin had gripped him ; and the last we saw of
81 F
s X
our birthday treat was the tin flashing in the sunlight
on Snarley's nose as he tore away howling into the bush.
Snarleyow came to a bad end : his master shot him
as he was running off with a ham. He was a full-
grown dog when he came to our camp, and too old
to learn principles and good manners.
Dogs are like people : what they learn when they
are young, whether of good or of evil, is not readily
forgotten. I began early with Jock, and — remember-
ing what Rocky had said — tried to help him. It is
little use punishing a dog for stealing if you take no
trouble about feeding him. That is very rough on
the dog ; he has to find out slowly and by himself
what he may take, and what he may not. Sometimes
he leaves what he was meant to take, and goes hungry ;
and sometimes takes what was not intended for him,
and gets a thrashing. That is not fair. You cannot
expect to have a good dog, and one that will understand
you, if you treat him in that way. Some men teach
their dogs not to take food from any one but themselves.
One day when we were talking about training dogs,
Ted told one of the others to open Jess's mouth and
put a piece of meat in it, he undertaking not to say
a word and not even to look at her. The meat was
put in her mouth and her jaws were shut tight on it ;
but the instant she was free she dropped it, walked
round to the other side of Ted and sat close up to him.
He waited for a minute or so and, without so much
as a glance at her, said quietly " All right." She was
back again in a second and with one hungry bite
bolted the lump of meat.
82
I taught Jock not to touch food in camp until he
was told to ' take it.' The lesson began when he got
his saucer of porridge in the morning ; and he must
have thought it cruel to have that put in front of him,
and then to be held back or tapped with a ringer on
the nose each time he tried to dive into it. At first
he struggled and fought to get at it ; then he tried
to back away and dodge round the other side ; then
he became dazed, and, thinking it was not for him at
all, wanted to walk off and have nothing more to do
with it. In a few days, however, I got him to lie still
and take it only when I patted him and pushed him
towards it ; and in a very little time he got on so well
that I could put his food down without saying any-
thing and let him wait for permission. He would lie
down with his head on his paws and his nose right
up against the saucer, so as to lose no time when the
order came ; but he would not touch it until he
heard ' Take it.' He never moved his head, but his
little browny dark eyes, full of childlike eagerness,
used to be turned up sideways and fixed on mine. I
believe he watched my lips ; he was so quick to obey
the order when it came.
When he grew up and had learned his lessons there
was no need for these exercises. He got to under-
stand me so well that if I nodded or moved my hand
in a way that meant * all right,' he would go ahead :
by that time too he was dignified and patient ; and
it was only in his puppyhood that he used to crouch
up close to his food and tremble with impatience
and excitement.
83
There was one lesson that he hated most of all.
I used to balance a piece of meat on his nose and make
him keep it there until the word to take it came.
Time after time he would close his eyes as if the sight
of the meat was more than he could bear, and his
mouth would water so from the savoury smell that
long streels of dribble would hang down on either
side.
It seems unnecessary and even cruel to tantalise
a dog in that way ; but it was not : it was education ;
and it was true kindness. It taught him to under-
stand his master, and to be obedient, patient, and
observant ; it taught him not to steal ; it saved him
from much sickness, and perhaps death, by teaching him
not to feed on anything he could find ; it taught him
manners and made it possible for him to live with
his master and be treated like a friend.
Good feeding, good care, and plenty of exercise
soon began to make a great change in Jock. He ceased
to look like a beetle — grew bigger everywhere, not
only in one part as he had done at first ; his neck grew
thick and strong, and his legs straightened up and
filled out with muscle. The others, seeing him
every day, were slow to notice these things, but my
sand had been changed into gold long ago, and they
always said I could not see anything wrong in Jock.
There was one other change which came more slowly
and seemed to me much more wonderful. After his
morning feed, if there was nothing to do, he used to
go to sleep in some shady place, and I remember well
one day watching him as he lay. His bit of shade
had moved away and left him in the bright sunshine ;
and as he breathed and his ribs rose and fell, the tips
of the hairs on his side and back caught the sunlight
and shone like polished gold, and the wavy dark lines
seemed more distinct and darker, but still very soft.
In fact, I was astonished to see that in a certain light
Jock looked quite handsome. That was the first time
I noticed the change in colour ; and it made me
remember two things. The first was what the other
fellows had said the day Billy gave up his pup, " You
can't tell how a puppy will turn out : even his colour
changes " ; and the second was a remark made by
an old hunter who had offered to buy Jock — the real
meaning of which I did not understand at the time.
" The best dog I ever owned was a golden brindle,"
said the old man thoughtfully, after I had laughed
at the idea of selling my dog. I had got so used to
thinking that he was only a faded wishy-washy edition
of Jess that the idea of his colour changing did not
occur to me then, and I never suspected that the old
man could see how he would turn out ; but the touch
of sunlight opened my eyes that day, and after that
whenever I looked at Jock the words " golden brindle "
came back to my mind, and I pictured him as he was
going to be — and as he really did grow up — having
a coat like burnished gold with soft, dark, wavy
brindles in it and that snow-white V on his chest.
Jock had many things to learn besides the lessons
he got from me — the lessons of experience which
nobody could teach him. When he was six months
old — just old enough, if he had lived in a town, to
85
chase a cat and make a noise — he knew many things
that respectable puppies of twice his age who stay at
home never get a chance of learning.
On trek there were always new places to see, new
roads to travel, and new things to examine, tackle
or avoid. He learnt something fresh almost every
day : he learnt, for instance, that, although it was
shady and cool under the waggon, it was not good
enough to lie in the wheel track, not even for the
pleasure of feeling the cool iron tyre against your back
or head as you slept ; and he knew that, because one day
he had done it and the wheel had gone over his foot ;
and it might just as easily have been his back or head.
Fortunately the sand was soft and his foot was not
crushed ; but he was very lame for some days, and
had to travel on the waggon.
He learned a good deal from Jess : among other
things, that it was not necessary to poke his nose up
against a snake in order to find out what it was. He
knew that Jess would fight anything ; and when
one day he saw her back hair go up and watched her
sheer off the footpath wide into the grass, he did the
same ; and then when we had shot the snake, both
he and Jess came up very very cautiously and sniffed
at it, with every hair on their bodies standing up.
He found out for himself that it was not a good
idea to turn a scorpion over with his paw. The
vicious little tail with a thorn in it whipped over the
scorpion's back, and Jock had such a foot that he must
have thought a scorpion worse than two waggons.
He was a very sick dog for some days ; but after that,
86
whenever he saw a thing that he did not understand,
he would watch it very carefully from a little way
off and notice what it did and what it looked like,
before trying experiments. if
So, little by little, Jock got to understand plenty of *
things that no town dog would ever know, and he got
to know — just as some people do — by what we call
instinct, whether a thing was dangerous or safe, even
though he had never seen anything like it before.
That is how he knew that wolves or lions were about —
and that they were dangerous — when he heard or
scented them ; although he had never seen, scented
or heard one before to know what sort of animal it
might be. You may well wonder how he could tell
whether the scent or the cry belonged to a wolf which
he must avoid, or to a buck which he might hunt,
when he had never seen either a wolf or a buck at
the time ; but he did know ; and he also knew that
no dog could safely go outside the ring of the camp
fires when wolf or lion was about. I have known
many town-bred dogs that could scent them just
as well as Jess or Jock could, but having no instinct
of danger they went out to see what it was, and of
course they never came back.
I used to take Jock with me everywhere so that he
could learn everything that a hunting dog ought to
know, and above all things to learn that he was my
dog, and to understand all that I wanted to tell him.
So while he was still a puppy, whenever he stopped
to sniff at something new or to look at something |
strange, I would show him what it was ; but if he
87
-It
stayed behind to explore while I moved on, or if he
fell asleep and did not hear me get up from where I
had sat down to rest, or went off the track on his own
account, I used to hide away from him on top of a
rock or up a tree and let him hunt about until he
found me.
At first he used to be quite excited when he missed
me, but after a little time he got to know what to do
and would sniff along the ground and canter away
after me — always finding me quite easily. Even if
I climbed a tree to hide from him he would follow
my track to the foot of the tree, sniff up the trunk
as far as he could reach standing up against it, and then
peer up into the branches. If he could not see me
from one place, he would try another — always with his
head tilted a bit on one side. He never barked at
these times ; but as soon as he saw me, his ears would
drop, his mouth open wide with the red tongue lolling
out, and the stump of a tail would twiggle away to
show how pleased he was. Sometimes he would give a
few little whimpery grunts : he hardly ever barked; when
_-L he did I knew there was something worth looking at.
Jock was not a quarrelsome dog, and he was quick
to learn and very obedient, but in one connection
I had great difficulty with him for quite a little time.
He had a sort of private war with the fowls ; and it
was due to the same cause as his war with the other
v; puppies : they interfered with him. Now, every one
,y>N knows what a fowl is like : it is impudent, inquisitive,
selfish, always looking for something to eat, and has
no principles.
A friend of mine once told me a story about a dog
of his and the trouble he had with fowls. Several of
us had been discussing the characters of dogs, and the
different emotions they feel and manage to express,
and the kind of things they seem to think about.
Every one knows that a dog can feel angry, frightened,
pleased, and disappointed. Any one who knows dogs
will tell you that they can also feel anxious, hopeful,
nervous, inquisitive, surprised, ashamed, interested,
sad, loving, jealous, and contented — just like human
beings.
We had told many stories illustrating this, when
my friend asked the question : " Have dogs a sense of
humour ? " Now I know that Jock looked very
foolish the day he fought the table-leg — and a silly
old hen made him look just as foolish another day—
but that is not quite what my friend meant. On
both occasions Jock clearly felt that he had made
himself look ridiculous ; but he was very far from
looking amused. The question was : Is a dog capable
of sufficient thinking to appreciate a simple joke,
and is it possible for a dog to feel amused. If Jess
had seen Jock bursting to fight the table-leg
would she have seen the joke ? Well, I certainly did
not think so ; but he said he was quite certain some
dogs have a sense of humour ; and he had had proof
of it.
He told the story very gravely, but I really do not
even now know whether he — Well, here it is : He
had once owned a savage old watch-dog, whose box
stood in the back-yard where he was kept chained up
89
all day ; he used to be fed once a day — in the morn-
ings— and the great plague of his life was the fowls.
They ran loose in the yard and picked up food all day,
besides getting a really good feed of grain morning
and evening ; possibly the knowledge of this made
/ the old dog particularly angry when they would come
' round by ones or twos or dozens trying to steal part
of his one meal. Anyhow, he hated them, and
whenever he got a chance killed them. The old fowls
learned to keep out of his way and never ventured
within his reach unless they were quite sure that he
was asleep or lying in his kennel where he could not
see them ; but there were always new fowls coming,
or young ones growing up ; and so the war went on.
One Sunday morning my friend was enjoying a
smoke on his back stoep when feeding time came
round. The cook took the old dog's food to him in
a high three-legged pot, and my friend, seeing the
fowls begin to gather round and wishing to let the old
dog have his meal in peace, told the cook to give the
fowls a good feed in another part of the yard to draw
them off. So the old fellow polished off his food
and licked the pot clean, leaving not a drop or a speck
behind.
But fowls are very greedy ; they were soon back
again wandering about, with their active-looking
eyes searching everything. The old - dog, feeling
pretty satisfied with life, picked out a sandy spot in
the sunshine, threw himself down full stretch on his
Ujside, and promptly went to sleep — at peace with all
the world. Immediately he did this, out stepped a
90
A
r* V,KI<<
long-legged athletic-looking young cockerel and began
to advance against the enemy. As he got nearer
he slowed down, and looked first with one eye and then
with the other so as to make sure that all was safe,
and several times he paused with one foot poised high
before deciding to take the next step. My friend
was greatly amused to see all the trouble that the fowl
was taking to get up to the empty pot, and, for the
fun of giving the conceited young cockerel a fright,
threw a pebble at him. He was so nervous that when
the pebble dropped near him, he gave one great
bound and tore off flapping and screaming down the
yard as if he thought the old dog was after him. The
old fellow himself was startled out of his sleep, and
raised his head to see what the row was about ; but,
as nothing more happened, he lay down again, and
the cockerel, finding also that it was a false alarm,
turned back not a bit ashamed for another try.
The cockerel had not seen the old dog lift his head ;
my friend had, and when he looked again he saw that,
although the underneath eye — half buried in the sand —
was shut, the top eye was open and was steadily watch-
ing the cockerel as he came nearer and nearer to the
pot. My friend sat dead still, expecting a rush and
another fluttering scramble. At last the cockerel
took the final step, craned his neck to its utmost
and peered down into the empty pot. The old dog
gave two gentle pats with his tail in the sand, and closing
his eye went to sleep again.
Jock had the same sort of trouble. The fowls tried
91
to steal his food ; and he would not stand it. His way
of dealing with them was not good for their health :
before I could teach him not to kill, and before the
fowls would learn not to steal, he had finished half a
dozen of them one after another with just one bite
and a shake. He would growl very low as they came
up and, without lifting his head from the plate, watch
them with his little eyes turning from soft brown to
shiny black ; and when they came too near and tried
to snatch just one mouthful — well, one jump, one shake,
and it was all over.
In the end he learned to tumble them over and
scare their wits out without hurting them ; and they
learned to give him a very wide berth.
I used always to keep some fowls with the waggons,
partly to have fresh meat if we ran out of game, but
mainly to have fresh eggs, which were a very great
treat ; and as a rule it was only when a hen turned
obstinate and would not lay that we ate her. I used
to have one old rooster, whose name was Pezulu, and
six or eight hens. The hens changed from time to
time — as we ate them — but Pezulu remained.
The fowl-coop was carried on top of everything
else, and it was always left open so that the fowls
could go in and out as they liked. In the very begin-
ning of all, of course, the fowls were shut in and fed
in the coop for a day or two to teach them where
their home was ; but it is surprising how quickly
a fowl will learn and how it observes things. For
instance, the moving of the coop from one waggon
to another is not a thing one would expect the fowls
02
I ~ -'-?• ~^Oif\ S
L • • •
to notice, all the waggons being so much alike and
having no regular order at the outspans ; but they
did notice it, and at once. They would first get on
to the waggon on which the coop had been, and look
about in a puzzled lost kind of way ; then walk all
over the load apparently searching for it, with heads
cocked this way and that, as if a great big coop was
a thing that might have been mislaid somewhere ;
then one- after another would jerk out short cackles
of protest, indignation and astonishment, and generally
make no end of a fuss. It was only when old Pezulu
led the way and perched on the coop itself and crowed
and called to them that they would get up on to the
other waggon.
'Pezulu got his name by accident — in fact, by a
misunderstanding. It is a Zulu word meaning * up '
or ' on top,' and when the fowls first joined the
waggons and were allowed to wander about at the
outspan places, the boys would drive them up when it
was time to trek again by cracking their big whips
and shouting " Pezulu." In a few days no driving or
whip-cracking was necessary ; one of the boys would
shout " Pezulu " three or four times, and they would x.
all come in and one by one fly and scramble up to the y£j£=
coop. One day, after we had got a new lot of hens,
I
~ it cut the skin and little beads of blood shot up marking
the line like the scratch of a thorn. Missing my arm
the hoof struck full on the handle of the Bushman's
Friend and sent it flying yards out of reach. And it
was not merely one kick : faster than the eye could
follow them the little feet whizzed and the legs seemed
to buzz round like the spokes of a wheel. Holding
the horns at arm's length in order to dodge the kicks,
I tried to pull the duiker towards the knife ; but it was
too much for me, and with a sudden twist and a wrench
freed itself and was off again.
All the time Jock was moving round and round
panting and licking his chops, stepping in and stepping
back, giving anxious little whimpers, and longing to
be at it again, but not daring to join in without
permission. When the duiker broke away, however,
he waited for nothing, and was on to it in one spring
— again from behind ; and this time he let go as
it fell, and jumping free of it, had it by the throat
before it could rise. I ran to them again, but the
picking up of the knife had delayed me and I was not
in time to save Jock the same lesson that the duiker
had just taught me.
Down on its side, with Jock's jaws locked in its throat,
once more the duiker doubled up and used its feet.
The first kick went over his head and scraped harm-
lessly along his back ; but the second caught him at
the point of the shoulder, and the razor-like toe ripped
his side right to the hip. Then the dog showed his
pluck and cleverness. His side was cut open as if
it had been slashed by a knife, but he never flinched
114
or loosened his grip for a second ; he seemed to go at
it more furiously than ever, but more cleverly and
warily. He swung his body round clear of the whiz-
zing feet, watching them with his little beady eyes
fixed sideways and the gleaming whites showing in
the corners ; he tugged away incessantly and vigor-
ously, keeping the buck's neck stretched out and
pulling it round in a circle backwards so that it could
not possibly double its body up enough to kick him
again ; and before I could catch the feet to help him,
the kicks grew weaker ; the buck slackened out, and
Jock had won.
The sun was hot, the sand was deep, and the rifle
was hard to find ; it was a long way back to the
waggons, and the duiker made a heavy load ; but the
end of that first chase seemed so good that nothing
else mattered. The only thing I did mind was the
open cut on Jock's side ; but he minded nothing :
his tail was going like a telegraph needle ; he
was panting with his mouth open from ear to
ear, and his red tongue hanging out and making
great slapping licks at his chops from time to
time ; he was not still for a second, but kept
walking in and stepping back in a circle round the
duiker, and looking up at me and then down at
it, as if he was not at all sure that there might
not be some fresh game on, and was consult-
ing me as to whether it would not be a good
thing to have another go in and «^ make it all
safe.
He was just as happy as a dog could be, and
perhaps he was proud of the wound that left
a straight line from his shoulder to his hip and
showed up like a cord under the golden brindle
as long as he lived — a memento of his first real
hunt.
WHEN the hen pecked Jock on the nose, she gave
a useful lesson in the art of finding out what you want
to know without getting into trouble. As he got
older, he also learned that there are only certain things
which concerned him and which it was necessary for
him to know. A young dog begins by thinking that
he can do everything, go everywhere, and know
everything ; and a hunting dog has to learn to mind
his own business, as well as to understand it. Some
dogs turn sulky or timid or stupid when they are
checked, but an intelligent dog with a stout heart
will learn little by little to leave other things alone,
and grow steadily keener on his own work. There
was no mistake about Jock's keenness. When I took
down the rifle from the waggon he did not go off into
ecstasies of barking, as most sporting dogs will do,
but would give a quick look up and with an eager little
117
run towards me give a whimper of joy, make two or
three bounds as if wanting to stretch his muscles and
loosen his joints, then shake himself vigorously as
though he had just come out of the water, and with
a soft suppressed " Woo-woo-woo " full of content-
ment, drop silently into his place at my heels and
give his whole attention to his work.
He was the best of companions, and through the
years that we hunted together I never tired of watch-
ing him. There was always something to learn,
something to admire, something to be grateful for,
and very often something to laugh at — in the way in
which we laugh only at those whom we are fond of.
It was the struggle between Jock's intense keenness
and his sense of duty that most often raised the laugh.
He knew that his place was behind me ; but probably
he also knew that nine times out of ten he scented
or saw the game long before I knew there was anything
near, and naturally wanted to be in front or at least
abreast of me to show me whatever there was to be
seen.
He noticed, just as surely and as quickly as any
human being could, any change in my manner : nothing
escaped him, for his eyes and ears were on the move
the whole time. It was impossible for me to look for
more than a few seconds in any one direction, or to
stop or even to turn my head to listen, without being
caught by him. His bright brown eyes were ever-
lastingly on the watch and on the move : from me
to the bush, from the bush back to me. When we
were after game, and he could scent or see it, he would
118
keep a foot or two to the side of me so as to have a
clear view ; and when he knew by my manner that
I thought there was game near, he kept so close up
that he would often bump against my heels as I walked,
or run right into my legs if I stopped suddenly. Often
when stalking buck very quietly and cautiously, thinking
only of what was in front, I would get quite a start
by feeling something bump up against me behind.
At these times it was impossible to say anything
without risk of scaring the game, and I got into the
habit of making signs with my hand which he under-
stood quite as well.
Sometimes after having crawled up I would be in
the act of aiming when he would press up against me.
Nothing puts one off so much as a touch or the ex-
pectation of being jogged when in the act of firing, and
I used to get angry with him then, but dared not
breathe a word ; I would lower my head slowly, turn
round, and give him a look. He knew quite well what
it meant. Down would go his ears instantly, and he
would back away from me a couple of steps, drop his
stump of a tail and wag it in a feeble deprecating
way, and open his mouth into a sort of foolish laugh.
That was his apology ! " I beg your pardon : it
was an accident ! I won't do it again."
It was quite impossible to be angry with him, he
was so keen and he meant so well ; and when he saw
me laughing softly at him, he would come up again
close to me, cock his tail a few inches higher and wag
it a bit faster.
There is a deal of expression in a dog's tail :
119
it will generally tell you what his feelings are. My friend
maintained that that was how he knew his old dog
was enjoying the joke against the cockerel ; and that
is certainly how I knew what Jock was thinking about
once when lost in the veld ; and it showed me the way
back.
It is easy enough to lose oneself in the Bushveld.
The Berg stands up some thousands of feet inland
on the west, looking as if it had been put there to
hold up the Highveld ; and between the foothills and
the sea lies the Bushveld, stretching for hundreds
of miles north and south. From the height and
distance of the Berg it looks as flat as the floor, but in
many parts it is very much cut up by deep rough
dongas, sharp rises and depressions, and numbers of
small kopjes. Still, it has a way of looking flat, because
the hills are small, and very much alike ; and because
hill and hollow are covered and hidden mile after mile
by small trees of a wonderful sameness, just near
enough together to prevent you from seeing more than
a few hundred yards at a time. Most people see no
differences in sheep : many believe that all Chinamen
are exactly alike ; and so it is with the Bushveld :
you have to know it first.
So far I had never lost my way out hunting. The
experiences of other men and the warnings from the
old hands had made me very careful. We were always
hearing of men being lost through leaving the road
and following up the game while they were excited,
without noticing which way they went and how long
they had been going. There were no beaten tracks
120
SIM
and very few landmarks, so that even experienced
hunters went astray sometimes for a few hours or a -•
day or two when the mists or heavy rains came on
and nothing could be seen beyond fifty or a hundred
yards.
Nearly every one who goes hunting in the Bush-
veld gets lost some time or other — generally in the
beginning before he has learned to notice things.
Some have been lost for many days until they blundered
on to a track by accident or were found by a search-
party ; others have been lost and, finding no water
or food, have died ; others have been killed by lions,
and only a boot or a coat — or, as it happened in one
case that I know of, a ring found inside a lion — told
what had occurred ; others have been lost and nothing
more ever heard of them. There is no feeling quite
like that of being lost — helplessness, terror, and
despair ! The horror of it is so great that every
beginner has it before him ; every one has heard of
it, thought of it, and dreamed of it, and every one
feels it holding him to the beaten track, as the fear
of drowning keeps those who cannot swim to shallow
water. That is just in the beginning. Presently,
when little excursions, each bolder than the previous,
have ended without accident, the fear grows less
and confidence develops. Then it is, as a rule, that
the accident comes and the lesson is learned, if you
are lucky enough to pull through.
When the camp is away in the trackless bush, it
needs a good man always to
find the way home
121
couple of hours' chase with all its twists and turns
and doublings ; but when camp is made on a known
road — a long main road that strikes a fair line between
two points of the compass — it seems impossible for
any one to be hopelessly lost. If the road runs east
and west you, knowing on which side you left it,
have only to walk north or south steadily and you must
strike it again. The old hands told the beginners
this, and we were glad to know that it was only a
matter of walking for a few hours, more or less, and
that in the end we were bound to find the road and
strike some camp. "Yes," said the old hands, "it is
simple enough here where you have a road running
east and west ; there is only one rule to remember :
When you have lost your way, don't lose your head."
But indeed that is just the one rule that you are quite
unable to observe.
Many stories have been told of men being lost :
many volumes could be filled with them for the trouble
of writing down what any hunter will tell you. But
no one who has not seen it can realise how the thing
may happen ; no one would believe the effect that
the terror of being lost, and the demoralisation which
it causes, can have on a sane man's senses. If you
want to know what a man can persuade himself to
believe against the evidence of his senses — even when
his very life depends upon his holding to the absolute
truth — then you should see a man who is lost in the
bush. He knows that he left the road on the north
side ; she loses his bearings ; he does not know how long
how fat, or how far he has walked ; yet if he keep,
122
his head he will make due south and must inevitably
strike the road. After going for half an hour and
seeing nothing familiar, he begins to feel that he is
going in the wrong direction ; something pulls at
him to face right about. Only a few minutes more of
this, and he feels sure that he must have crossed the
road without noticing it, and therefore that he ought
to be going north instead of south, if he hopes ever to
strike it again. How, you will ask, can a man imagine
it possible to cross a big dusty road twenty or thirty j
feet wide without seeing it ? The idea seems absurd ;
yet they do really believe it. One of the first illusions
that occurs to men when they lose their heads is that
they have done this, and it is the cause of scores of
cases of ' lost in the bush.' The idea that they may
have done it is absurd enough ; but stranger still is
the fact that they actually do it.
If you cannot understand a man thinking he had
done such a thing, what can you say of a man actually
doing it ? Impossible, quite impossible, you think.
Ah ! but it is a fact : many know it for a fact and I
have witnessed it twice myself, once in Mashonaland
and once on the Delagoa road. I saw men, tired,
haggard and wild-eyed, staring far in front of them,
never looking at the ground, pressing on, on, on, and
actually cross well-worn waggon roads, coming from
hard veld into a sandy wheel-worn track and kicking
up a cloud of dust as they passed, and utterly blind to
the fact that they were walking across the roads they
had been searching for — in one case for ten hours ?
and in the other for three days. When we called tojj/-
123
-^=ijft!l
them they had already crossed and were disap-
pearing again into the bush. In both cases the
sound of the human voice and the relief of being
' found,' made them collapse. The knees seemed
to give way : they could not remain standing.
The man who loses his head is really lost. He
cannot think, remember, reason, or understand ; and the
strangest thing of all is that he often cannot even see
properly — he fails to see the very things that he most
wants to see, even when they are as large as life before
him. Crossing the road without seeing it is not the
only or the most extraordinary example of this sort of
thing. We were out hunting once in a mounted party,
but to spare a tired horse I went on foot and took up
my stand in a game run among some thorn trees on the
low spur of a hill, while the others made a big circuit
to head off a troop of koodoo. Among our party
there was one who was very nervous : he had been lost
once for six or eight hours, and being haunted by the
dread of being lost again, his nerve was all gone and
he would not go fifty yards without a companion.
In the excitement of shooting at and galloping after
the koodoo probably this dread was forgotten for a
moment : he himself could not tell how it happened that
he became separated, and no one else had noticed him.
The strip of wood along the hills in which I was
waiting was four or five miles long but only from one
to three hundred yards wide, a mere fringe enclosing
the little range of kopjes ; and between the stems of
the trees I could see our camp and waggons in the open
a quarter of a mile away. Ten or twelve shots faintly
124
heard in the distance told me that the others were on
to the koodoo, and knowing the preference of those
animals for the bush I took cover behind a big stump
and waited. For over half an hour, however, nothing
came towards me, and believing then that the game
had broken off another way, I was about to return to
camp when I heard the tapping of galloping feet a long
way off. In a few minutes the hard thud and occa-
sional ring on the ground told that it was not the koo-
doo ; and soon afterwards I saw a man on horseback. '
He was leaning eagerly forward and thumping the
exhausted horse with his rifle and his heels to keep up
its staggering gallop. I looked about quickly to see
what it was he was chasing that could have slipped
past me unnoticed, but there was nothing ; then
thinking there had been an accident and he was coming
for help, I stepped out into the open and waited for
him to come up. I stood quite still, and he galloped
past within ten yards of me — so close that his muttered
" Get on, you brute ; get on, get on ! " as he thumped
away at his poor tired horse, were perfectly audible.
" What's up, sportsman ? " I asked, no louder than
you would say it across a tennis-court ; but the words
brought him up, white-faced and terrified, and he
half slid, half tumbled, off the horse gasping out,
" I was lost, I was lost ! " How he had managed to
keep within that strip of bush, without once getting into
the open where he would have seen the line of kopjes to
which I had told him to stick or could have
seen the waggons and the smoke of the big j
camp-fire, he could never explain. I turnedl
125
him round where he stood, and through the trees
showed him the white tents of the waggons and the
cattle grazing near by, but he was too dazed to
understand or explain anything.
There are many kinds of men. That particular
kind is not the kind that will ever do for veld life :
they are for other things and other work. You will
laugh at them at times — when the absurdity is greatest
and no harm has been done. But see it ! See it—
and realise the suspense, the strain, and the terror ;
and then even the funniest incident has another side
| to it. See it once ; and recall that the worst of endings
•.have had just such beginnings. See it in the most
absurd and farcical circumstances ever known ; and
laugh — laugh your fill ; laugh at the victim and laugh
with him, when it is over — and safe. But in the end
will come the little chilling thought that the strongest,
the bravest, and the best have known something of it
too ; and that even to those whose courage holds to the
last breath there may come a moment when the pulse
beats a little faster and the judgment is at fault.
Buggins who was with us in the first season was no
hunter, but he was a good shot and not a bad fellow.
In his case there was no tragedy ; there was much
laughter and — to me — a wonderful revelation. He
showed us, as in a play, how you can be lost ; how you
can walk for ever in one little circle, as though drawn
to a centre by magnetic force, and how you can miss
seeing things in the bush if they do not move.
We had outspanned in a flat covered with close
grass about two feet high and shady flat-topped horn
126
trees. The waggons, four in number, were drawn
up a few yards olf the road, two abreast. The grass
was sweet and plentiful ; the day was hot and still ;
and as we had had a very long early morning trek
there was not much inclination to move. The cattle
soon filled themselves and lay down to sleep ; the boys
did the same ; and we, when breakfast was over,
got into the shade of the waggons, some to sleep
and others to smoke.
Buggins — that was his pet name — was a passenger
returning to " England, Home, and Beauty " — that
is to say, literally, to a comfortable home, admiring
sisters and a rich indulgent father — after having
sought his fortune unsuccessfully on the gold fields
for fully four months. Buggins was good-natured,
unselfish, and credulous ; but he had one fault — he
( yapped ' : he talked until our heads buzzed. He
used to sleep contentedly in a rumpled tarpaulin all
through the night treks and come up fresh as a daisy
and full of accumulated chat at the morning outspan,
just when we — unless work or sport called for us —
were wanting to get some sleep.
We knew well enough what to expect, so after
breakfast Jimmy, who understood Buggins well, told
him pleasantly that he could " sleep, shoot, or shut
up." To shut up was impossible, and to sleep again
— without a rest — difficult, even for Buggins ; so with
a good-natured laugh he took the shot gun, saying
that he " would potter around a bit and give us a treat."
Well, he did !
We had outspanned on the edge of an open space
127
in the thorn bush ; there are plenty of them to be
found in the Bushveld — spaces a few hundred yards
in diameter, like open park land, where not a single
tree breaks the expanse of wavy yellow grass. The
waggons with their greyish tents and buck sails and
dusty wood-work stood in the fringe of the trees
where this little arena touched the road, and into it
sallied Buggins, gently drawn by the benevolent purpose
of giving us a treat. What he hoped to find in the
open on that sweltering day he only could tell ; we
knew that no living thing but lizards would be out
of the shade just then, but we wanted to find him
employment harmless to him and us.
He had been gone for more than half an hour when
we heard a shot, and a few minutes later Jimmy's
voice roused us.
" What the dickens is Buggins doing ? " he asked
in a tone so puzzled and interested that we all turned
to watch that sportsman. According to Jimmy,
he had been walking about in an erratic way for some
time on the far side of the open ground — going from
the one end to the other and then back again ; then dis-
appearing for a few minutes in the bush and re-appear-
ing to again manoeuvre in the open in loops and circles,
angles and straight lines. Now he was walking about
at a smart pace, looking from side to side apparently
searching for something. We could see the whole of
the arena as clearly as you can see a cricket-field from
the railings — for our waggon formed part of the
boundary — but we could see nothing to explain
Buggins's manoeuvres. Next we saw him face the
128
thorns opposite, raise his gun very deliberately, and
fire into the top of the trees.
" Green pigeons," said Jimmy firmly ; and we all
agreed that Buggins was after specimens for stuffing ;
but either our guess was wrong or his aim was bad,
for after standing dead still for a minute he resumed his
vigorous walk. By this time Buggins fairly fascinated
us ; even the kaffirs had roused each other and were
watching him. Away he went at once off to our
left, and there he repeated the performance, but,
again made no attempt to pick up anything and showed
no further interest in whatever it was he had fired at,
but turned right about face and walked across the
open ground in our direction until he was only a couple
of hundred yards away. There he stopped and began
to look about him and making off some few yards in
another direction climbed on to a fair-sized ant-heap
five or six feet high, and balancing himself cautiously
on this he deliberately fired off both barrels in quick
succession. Then the same idea struck us all together,
and " Buggins is lost " came from several — all choking
with laughter.
Jimmy got up and, stepping out into the open beside
the waggon, called, " Say, Buggins, what in thunder
are you doing ? "
To see Buggins slide off the ant-heap and shuffle
shamefacedly back to the waggon before a gallery of
four white men and a lot of kaffirs, all cracking and
crying with laughter, was a sight never to be for-
gotten.
I did not want to get lost and be eaten
129 i
kept my eye
month after
serious diffi-
alive, or even look ridiculous, so I began very care-
fully : glanced back regularly to see what the track,
trees, rocks, or kopjes looked like from the
other side ; carefully noted which side of the
road I had turned off ; and always
on the sun. But day after day and
month went by without accident or
culty, and then the same old thing happened :
familiarity bred contempt, and I got the beginner's
complaint, conceit fever, just as others did : thought
I was rather a fine fellow, not like other chaps who
always have doubts and difficulties in finding their way
back, but something exceptional with the real instinct
in me which hunters, natives, and many animals are
supposed to have; thought, in fact, I could not
get lost. So each day I went further and more
boldly off the road, and grew more confident
and careless.
The very last thing that would have occurred
to me on this particular day was that there was any
chance of being lost or any need to take note of where
we went. For many weeks we had been hunting in
exactly the same sort of country, but not of course
in the same part ; and the truth is I did not give the
matter a thought at all, but went ahead as one does
with the things that are done every day as matters of
habit.
WE were outspanned near some deep shaded water-
holes, and at about three o'clock I took my rifle and
wandered off in the hope of dropping across something '$•
for the larder and having some sport during the three
hours before the evening trek would begin ; and as
there was plenty of spoor of many kinds the pros-
pects seemed good enough.
We had been going along slowly, it may be for half
an hour, without seeing more than a little stembuck
scurrying away in the distance, when I noticed that
Jock was rather busy with his nose, sniffing about in
a way that looked like business. He was not sure
of anything ; that was clear, because he kept trying
in different directions ; not as you see a pointer do,
but very seriously silently and slowly, moving at a
cautious walk for a few yards and then taking a look
about.
The day was hot and still, as usual at that time of
the year, and any noise would be easily heard, so I
had stopped to give Jock a chance of ranging about.
At the moment we were in rather open ground, and
finding that Jock was still very suspicious I moved
on towards where the bush was thicker and we were
less likely to be seen from a distance. As we got near
the better cover there was a rasping, squawky cry
in a cockatoo's voice, "Go 'way ; go 'way ; go' way ! "
?-and one of those ugly big-beaked Go 'way birds came
sailing up from behind and flapped on to the trees
we were making for. No doubt they have another
name, but in the Bushveld they were known as Go
'way birds, because of this cry and because they are
supposed to warn the game when an enemy is coming.
But they are not like the tick bird or the rhinoceros
bird, who stick close to their friends and as soon as
they see or hear anything suspicious flutter straight
up filling the air with twittering cries of alarm ; the
Go 'way birds do not feed on ticks and have nothing
to do with the game ; you find them where there is
no game, and it always seemed to me that it is not
concern for the game at all, but simply a combination
of vulgar curiosity, disagreeableness and bad manners,
that makes them interfere as they do.
The reason why I do not believe the Go 'way birds
care a rap about the game and only want to worry
you is that often one of them will make up its mind
to stick to you, and you can turn twist and double
as many ways as you like, but as soon as you begin
to walk on again the wretched thing will fly over your
head and perch twenty yards or so in front of you,
screeching out " Go 'way " at the top of its voice.
There it will sit ready to fly off again as you come on,
its ugly head on one side and big hooked bill like an
aggressive nose, watching you mercilessly, as vigilant
as a hungry fowl and as cross as a tired nurse in a big
132
family. They seem to know that you cannot shoot
them without making more row and doing more harm
than they do.
I stood still for a few minutes to give this one a
chance to fly away, and when it would not do so,
but kept on screeching and craning its neck at me, I
threw a stone at it. It ducked violently and gave a
choking hysterical squawk of alarm and anger as the
stone whizzed close to its head ; then flying on to
another tree a few yards off, screamed away more
noisily than ever. Evidently the best thing to do
was to go ahead taking no notice of the creature and
trusting that it would tire and leave me alone ; so I
walked off briskly.
There was a slight rustling in the bush ahead of us
as I stepped out, and then the sound of feet. I made
a dash for the chance of a running shot, but it was too
late, and all we saw was half a dozen beautiful koodoo
disappearing among the tree stems.
I turned towards that Go 'way bird. Perhaps he
did not like the look on my face or the way I held the
rifle ; for he gave one more snarling shriek, as if he
was emptying himself for ever of his rage and spite,
and flapped away.
Jock was standing like a statue, leaning slightly forward
but with head very erect, jaws tightly closed, and eyes
looking straight in front, as bright as black diamonds.
It was a bad disappointment ; for that was the
first time we had fairly and squarely come upon
koodoo. However, it was still early and the
game had not been scared, but had gone off
133
quietly ; so hoping for another chance we started off
at a trot along the fresh spoor.
A big koodoo bull stands as high as a bullock, and
although they have the small shapely feet of an ante-
lope the spoor is heavy enough to follow at a trot
except on stony ground. Perhaps they know this,
for they certainly prefer the rough hard ground when
they can get it. We went along at a good pace, but
with many short breaks to make sure of the spoor in
the stony parts ; and it was pretty hot work, although
clothing was light for hunting. A rough flannel shirt,
open at the throat, and moleskin trousers dyed with
coffee — for khaki was unknown to us then — was the
usual wear ; and we carried as little as possible. Gen-
erally a water-bottle rilled with unsweetened cold tea
and a cartridge belt were all we took besides the rifle.
This time I had less than usual. Meaning to be out
only for a couple of hours at most and to stick close to
the road, I had pocketed half a dozen cartridges and
left both bandolier and water-bottle behind.
It was not long before we came upon the koodoo
again ; but they were on the watch. They were
standing in the fringe of some thick bush, broadside
on but looking back full at us, and as soon as I stopped
to aim the whole lot disappeared with the same easy
movement, just melting away in the bush.
If I had only known it, it was a hopeless chase for
an inexperienced hunter : they were simply playing
with me. The very things that seemed so encouraging
to me would have warned an old hand that running
on the trail was quite useless. When they moved
off quietly, it was not because they were foolhardy
or did not realise the danger. When they allowed
us to catch up to them time after time, it was not
because they did not expect us. When they stood on
the edge of thick bush where we could see them, it
was not stupidity. When they could disappear with
an easy bound, it was not accident. It was all part
of the game. They were keeping in touch with us
so that we could not surprise them, and whenever they
stopped it was always where they could see us coming
through the thinner bush for a long way and where they
themselves could disappear in the thick bush in a couple
of strides. Moreover, with each fresh run they changed
their direction with the object of making it difficult
for us to follow them up, and with the deliberate
purpose of eventually reaching some favourite and safe
haunt of theirs.
An old hand might have known this ; but a beginner
goes blindly along the spoor — exactly where they are
expecting him. The chase was long and tiring, but
there was no feeling of disappointment and no thought
of giving it up : each time they came in sight we got
keener and more excited, and the end seemed nearer
and more certain. I knew what the six animals were —
four cows, one young bull, and a magnificent old fellow
with a glorious head and great spiral horns. I carried
his picture in my eye and could pick him out instantly
wherever he stood and however motionless ; for,
incredibly difficult as it is to pick out still objects in the
bush before your eye becomes accustomed
to it, it is wonderful what you can do
135
when your eye is in and you are cool and
intent and know what you are looking for. I
had the old bull marked down as mine, and
his every detail — his splendid bearing, strong
shaggy neck with mane to the withers and bearded
throat, the soft grey dove-colour of the coat with its
white stripes, the easy balancing movement in carrying
the massive horns as he cantered away, and the trick
of throwing them back to glide them through the
bush.
The last run was a long and hard one ; and the
koodoo seemed to have taken matters seriously and
made up their minds to put a safe distance between
us and them. The spooring was often difficult and
the pace hot. I was wet through from the hard work,
and so winded that further effort seemed almost im-
possible ; but we plodded away — the picture of the
koodoo bull luring me on, and Jock content with any
chase. Without him the spoor would have been lost
long before ; it was in many places too faint and
scattered for me to follow, but he would sniff about
quietly, and, by his contented looks back at me and brisk
wagging of that stumpy tail, show that he was on it
again, and off we would go on another tired straggling
trot. But at last even his help was not enough : we
had come to the end of the chase, and not a spoor,
scratch, or sign of any sort was to be seen.
Time had passed unnoticed, and it was only when
it became clear that further search would be quite
useless that I looked at my watch and found it was
nearly five o'clock. That was rather a shock, for it
136
seemed reasonable to think that, as we had been out
for pretty nearly two hours and going fast for most
of the time, it would take almost as long to get back
again.
I had not once noticed our direction or looked at
the sun, yet when it came to making for camp again
the idea of losing the way never occurred to me. I
had not the slightest doubt about the way we had
come, and it seemed the natural thing to go back
the same way.
A short distance from where we finally gave up the
chase there was a rise crowned by some good-sized
rocks and bare of trees ; it was not high enough to
be fairly called a kopje, but I climbed it on chance
of getting a view of the surrounding country — to
see, if possible, how far we had come. The rise was
not sufficient, however, to give a view ; there was
nothing to be seen, and I sat down on the highest
rock to rest for a few minutes and smoke a cigarette.
It is over twenty years since that day, but that
cigarette is not forgotten, and the little rise where
we rested is still, to me, Cigarette Kopje. I was
so thoroughly wet from the heat and hard work that
the matches in the breast pocket of my shirt were all
damp, and the heads came off most of them before
one was gently coaxed into giving a light. Five
minutes rest was enough. We both wanted a drink,
but there was no time then to hunt for water in such
a dry part as that, so off we started for camp and jogged
along for a good time, perhaps half an hour. Then
little by little I began to feel some uncertainty
137
about the way and to look about from side to side
for reminders.
The start back had been easy enough : that part
of the ground where we had lost the spoor had been
gone over very thoroughly and every object was
familiar ; but further back, where we had followed the
spoor at a trot for long stretches and I had hardly
raised my eyes from the ground before me, it was a
very different matter. I forgot all about those long
stretches in which nothing had been noticed except the
koodoo spoor, and was unconsciously looking out for
things in regular succession which we had passed at
quite long intervals. Of course, they were not to be
found, but I kept on looking out for them — first feeling
annoyed, then puzzled, then worried. Something
had gone wrong, and we were not going back on our
old tracks. Several times I looked about for the
koodoo spoor as a guide ; but it might be anywhere
over a width of a hundred yards, and it seemed waste
of precious time to search the dry grass-grown and
leaf-strewn ground for that.
At the first puzzled stop I tried to recall some of
the more noticeable things we had passed during the
chase. There were two flat-topped mimosas, looking
like great rustic tables on a lawn, and we had passed
between them ; there was a large ant-heap, with a
twisty top like a crooked mud chimney, behind which
the koodoo bull had calmly stood watching us approach;
then a marula tree with a fork like a giant catapult
stick ; and so on with a score of other things, all
coming readily to mind.
138
That was what put me hopelessly wrong. I began
to look for particular objects instead of taking one
direction and keeping to it. Whenever a flat-topped
thorn, a quaint ant-heap, a patch of tambookie grass,
or a forked marula came in sight, I would turn off to
see if they were the same we had passed coming out.
It was hopeless folly, of course ; for in that country
there were hundreds and thousands of such things all
looking very much alike, and you could walk yourself
to death zigzagging about from one to another and
never get any nearer home : when it comes to doing
that sort of thing your judgment is gone and you
have lost your head ; and the worst of it is you do
not know it and would not believe it if any one could
tell you so. I did not know it ; but it was nevertheless
the fact.
As the sun sank lower I hurried on faster, but
never long in one line — always turning this way and
that to search for the particular marks I had in mind.
At last we came to four trees in a line, and my heart
gave a great jump, for these we had certainly passed
before. In order to make quite sure I hunted for
koodoo spoor ; there was none to be seen, but on an
old molehill there was the single print of a dog's foot.
" Ha, Jock's ! " I exclaimed aloud ; and Jock him-
self at the sound of his name stepped up briskly and
sniffed at his own spoor. Close beside it there
was the clear mark of a heeled boot, and there
were others further on. There was no doubt
about it, they were Jock's and mine, and I could
have given a whoop of delight ; but a chilly feeling
139
came over me when I realised that the footprints were
leading the same way as we were going, instead of the
opposite way. What on earth did it mean ?
I laid the rifle down and sat on an old stump to
think it out, and after puzzling over it for some
minutes came to the conclusion that by some stupid
blunder I must have turned round somewhere and
followed the line of the koodoo, instead of going
back on it. The only thing to be done was to
right about face and go faster than ever ; but, bad
as the disappointment was, it was a certain consolation
to know that we were on the track at last. That
at any rate was a certainty ; for, besides the footprints,
the general appearance of the country and many
individual features were perfectly familiar, now that
I took a good look at them from this point.
At that moment I had not a shadow of doubt about
the way — no more, indeed, than if we had been on
the road itself : no suspicion of the truth occurred to
me ; yet the simple fact is we were not then on the
koodoo trail at all, but, having made a complete circle,
had come on to our own trail at the molehill and were
now doing the circle the second time — but the reverse
way now.
The map on the opposite page is an attempt to
show what happened ; the details are of course only
guesswork, but the general idea is correct. The
koodoo themselves had moved in a rough circle and
in the first attempt to return to the waggons I had
started back on their trail but must have turned aside
somewhere, and after that, by dodging about looking
140
Thick Hack fine s/ioefo tradt of Koodoo.
Thin black line shmds tint circle Txyinnitiff Cfyarette Kcyyed-encliny i-:t% , Jocftt footprint in Jfoleftitt.
Dotted line shoub second circle from "Z, iCherv I turned back ctffain, to Cigarette Kopje. &
JJrrot&na* — •-ahov) the directimv in zdhich tSe ^i>et^tf on each tfrtil. 1
for special landmarks, have made a complete circle.
Thus we eventually came back to the track on which
we had started for home, and the things that then
looked so convincingly familiar were things seen
during the first attempt to return, and not, as I
supposed, landmarks on the original koodoo trail.
Jock's footprints in the molehill were only a few
hundred yards from the Cigarette Kopje and about
the same distance from where we had lost the koodoo
spoor ; and we were, at that moment, actually within
a mile of the waggons.
It seems incredible that one could be so near and
not see or understand. Why should one walk in
circles instead of taking a fairly straight line ? How
was it possible to pass Cigarette Kopje and not recog-
nise it, for I must have gone within fifty yards or
less of it ? As for not seeing things, the answer is that
the bush does not allow you to see much: the
waggons, for instance, might as well have been a
hundred miles away. As for Cigarette Kop — things do
not look the same unless seen from the same point ;
moreover there are heaps of things easily visible
which you will never see at all because you are
looking only for something else : you carry a precon-
ceived idea, a sort of picture in your eye, and every-
thing that does not fit in with that is not noticed —
not even seen. As for walking in circles, it is my
belief that most people, just like most horses, have a
natural leaning or tendency towards one side or the
other, and unless checked unconsciously indulge it.
When riding in the veld, or any open country, you
142
will notice that some horses will want to take any turn
off to the right, others always go to the left, and only
very few keep straight on. When out walking you
will find that some people cannot walk on your right
hand without coming across your front or working
you into the gutter ; others * mule ' you from the left.
Get them out in open country, walk briskly, and
talk ; then give way a little each time they bump you,
and in a very little while you will have done the circle.
If you have this tendency in the Bushveld, where you
cannot see any distant object to make for as a goal,
any obstacle straight in front of you throws you off
to the side you incline to ; any openings in the trees
which look like avenues or easy ways draw you ; and
between any two of them you will always choose the
one on your favourite side. Finally, a little know-
ledge is a dangerous thing in the veld, as elsewhere.
When you know enough to recognise marks with-
out being able to identify or locate them — that is,
when you know you have seen them before but are
not sure of the when and the where — goodness only
knows what conclusion you will come to or what you
will do.
I had passed Cigarette Kopje, it's true ; but when
coming towards it from a new side it must have looked
quite different ; and besides that, I had not been expect-
ing it, not looking for it, not even thinking of it — had
indeed said good-bye to it for ever. When we turned
back at the molehill, beginning to do the circle for the
second time, we must have passed quite close to
Cigarette Kopje again, but again it was from a different
H3
opening in the bush, and this time I had thought
of nothing and seen nothing except the things I picked
out and recognised as we hurried along. To my
half-opened beginner's eyes these things were familiar :
we had passed them before ; that seemed to be good
enough : it must be right ; so on we went, simply
doing the same circle a second time, but this time the
reverse way. The length of my shadow stretching
out before me as we started from the molehill was a
reminder of the need for haste, and we set off at a smart
double. A glance back every few minutes to make
» sure that we were returning the way we had come was
.. enough, and on we sped, confident for my part that
wev were securely on the line of the koodoo and going
straight for the waggons.
It is very difficult to say how long this lasted before
once more a horrible doubt arose. It was when we
had done half the circle that I was pulled up as if
struck in the face : the setting sun shining into
my eyes as we crossed an open space stopped me ;
for, as the bright gold-dust light of the sunset met
me full, I remembered that it was my long shadow
in front of me as we started from the molehill that
had urged me to hurry on. We had started due east :
we were going dead west ! What on earth was wrong ?
There were the trees and spaces we had passed, a
blackened stump, an ant-bear hole ; all familiar. What
then was the meaning of it ? Was it only a temporary
swerve ? No ! I tested that by pushing on further
along the track we were following, and it held steadily
to the west. Was it then all imagination about having
144
been there before ? No, that was absurd ! And yet —
and yet, as I went on, no longer trotting and full of hope
but walking heavily and weighted with doubt, the feel-
ing of uncertainty grew until I really did not know
whether the familiar-looking objects and scenes were
indeed old acquaintances or merely imagination play-
ing tricks in a country where every style and sample
was copied a thousand times over.
A few minutes later I again caught sight of. che
sunset glow — it was on my direct right : it meant
that the trail had taken another turn, while I could
have sworn we were holding a course straight as an
arrow. It was all a hopeless tangle. I was lost then —
and knew it. It was not the dread of a night out in
the bush — for after many months of roughing it, that
had no great terrors for me — but the helpless feeling
of being lost and the anxiety and uncertainty about
finding the road again, that gnawed at me and made
me feel tucked-up and drawn. I wondered when they
would begin to look for me, if they would light big
fires and fire shots, and if it would be possible toi
see or hear the signals. The light would not last
much longer; the dimness, the silence, and the hateful
doubts about the trail made it more and more diffi-
cult to recognise the line ; so I thought it was time
to fire a signal shot.
There was no answer. It was silly to hope for one ;
for even if it had been heard they would only have
thought that I was shooting at something. Yet the
clinging to hope was so strong that every twenty yards
or so I stopped to listen for a reply; and
145 K
when, after what seemed an eternity, none came, I fired
^another. When you shoot in the excitement of the
chase the noise of the report does not strike you as
| anything out of the way ; but a signal shot when
you are alone and lost seems to fill the world with
sound and to shake the earth itself. It has a most
chilling effect, and the feeling of loneliness becomes
acute as the echoes die away and still no answer
comes.
Another short spell of tip-toe walking and intent
listening, and then it came to me that one shot as a
signal was useless ; I should have fired more and at
regular intervals, like minute-guns at sea. I felt in
my pocket : there were only four cartridges there
and one in the rifle ; there was night before me, with
the wolves and the lions ; there was the food for to-
morrow, and perhaps more than to-morrow ! There
could be no minute-guns : two shots were all that
could be spared, and I looked about for some high
and open ground where the sound would travel far
and wide. On ahead of us to the right the trees seemed
fewer and the light stronger ; and there I came upon
some rising ground bare of bush. It was not much for
my purpose, but it was higher than the rest and quite
open, and there were some rocks scattered about the
top. The same old feeling of mixed remembrance
and doubt came over me as we climbed it : it looked
familiar and yet different. Was it memory or imagina-
tion?
But there was no time for wonderings. From the
biggest rock, which was only waist high, I fired off two
146
of my precious cartridges, and stood like a statue
listening for the reply. The silence seemed worse
than before : the birds had gone to roost ; even the
flies had disappeared ; there was no sound at all but
the beat of my own heart and Jock's panting breath.
There were three cartridges and a few damp matches
left. There was no sun to dry them now, but I laid
them out carefully on the smooth warm rock, and
hoped that one at least would serve to light our camp
fire. There was no time to waste : while the light
lasted I had to drag up wood for the fire and pick a
place for the camp — somewhere where the rocks
behind and the fire in front would shelter us from the
lions and hyenas, and where I could watch and listen
for signals in the night.
There was plenty of wood near by, and thinking
anxiously of the damp matches I looked about for
dry tindery grass so that any spark would give a start
for the fire. As I stooped to look for the grass I
came on a patch of bare ground between the scattered
tufts, and in the middle of it there lay a half-burnt
match ; and such a flood of relief and hope surged up
that my heart beat up in my throat. Where there
were matches there had been men ! We were not in
the wilds, then, where white men seldom went — not
off the beaten track : perhaps not far from the road
itself.
You must experience it to know what it meant at
that moment. It drew me on to look for more !
A yard away I found the burnt end of a cigarette ;
and before there was time to realise why that should
147
seem queer, I came on eight or ten matches with their
heads knocked off.
For a moment things seemed to go round and round.
I sat down with my back against the rock and a funny
choky feeling in my throat. I knew they were my
matches and cigarette, and that we were exactly
where we had started from hours before, when we
gave up the chase of the koodoo. I began to under-
stand things then : why places and landmarks seemed
familiar ; why Jock's spoor in the molehill had pointed
the wrong way ; why my shadow was in front and
behind and beside me in turns. We had been going
round in a circle. I jumped up and looked about
me with a fresh light ; and it was all clear as noonday
then. Why, this was the fourth time we had been
on or close to some part of this same rise that day,
each time within fifty yards of the same place ; it
was the second time I had sat on that very rock. And
there was nothing odd or remarkable about that either,
for each time I had been looking for the highest point
to spy from and had naturally picked the rock-topped
rise ; and I had not recognised it, only because we
came upon it from different sides each time and I was
thinking of other things all the while.
All at once it seemed as if my eyes were opened
and all was clear at last. I knew what to do : just
make the best of it for the night ; listen for shots
and watch for fires ; and if by morning no help came
in that way, then strike a line due south for the road
and follow it up until we found the waggons. It
might take all day or even more, but we were sure of
148
water that way and one could do it. The relief of
really understanding was so great that the thought
of a night out no longer worried me.
There was enough wood gathered, and I stretched
out on the grass to rest as there was nothing else to
do. We were both tired out, hot, dusty, and very
very thirsty ; but it was too late to hunt for water
then. I was lying on my side chewing a grass stem,
and Jock lay down in front of me a couple of feet
away. It was a habit of his : he liked to watch my
face, and often when I rolled over to ease one side
and lie on the other he would get up when he found
my back turned to him and come round deliberately
to the other side and sling himself down in front of
me again. There he would lie with his hind legs
sprawled on one side, his front legs straight out, and
his head resting on his paws. He would lie like that
without a move, his little dark eyes fixed on mine all
the time until the stillness and the rest made him
sleepy, and he would blink and blink, like a drowsy
child, fighting against sleep until it beat him ; and
then — one long-drawn breath as he rolled gently
over on his side, and Jock was away in Snoozeland.
In the loneliness of that evening I looked into his
steadfast resolute face with its darker muzzle and
bright faithful eyes that looked so soft and brown
when there was nothing to do but got so beady black
when it came to fighting. I felt very friendly to the
comrade who was little more than a puppy still ;
and he seemed to feel something too ; for as I lay
there chewing the straw and looking at him, he stirred
149
his stump of a tail in the dust an inch or so from time
to time to let me know that he understood all about it
and that it was all right as long as we were together.
But an interruption came. Jock suddenly switched
up his head, put it a bit sideways as a man would do,
listening over his shoulder with his nose rather up in
the air. I watched him, and thinking that it was
probably only a buck out to feed in the cool of the
evening, I tickled his nose with the long straw, saying,
" No good, old chap ; only three cartridges left. We
must keep them."
No dog likes to have his nose tickled : it makes
them sneeze ; and many dogs get quite offended,
because it hurts their dignity. Jock was not offended,
but he got up and, as if to show me that I was frivolous
and not attending properly to business, turned away
from me and with his ears cocked began to listen
again.
He was standing slightly in front of me and I
happened to notice his tail : it was not moving ; it
was drooping slightly and perfectly still, and he kept
it like that as he stepped quietly forward on to another
sloping rock overlooking a side where we had not yet
been. Evidently there was something there, but he
did not know what, and he wanted to find out.
I watched him, much amused by his calm businesslike
manner. He walked to the edge of the rock and looked
out : for a few minutes he stood stock-still with his ears
cocked and his tail motionless ; then his
ears dropped and his tail wagged gently
""" ~^~ "'" " '
to
Something — an instinct or sympathy quickened by
the day's experience, that I had never quite known
at me with his mouth open and tongue out, his ears
still down and tail wagging — he was smiling all over,
in his own way. I looked out over his head, and
there, about three hundred yards off, were the oxen
peacefully grazing and the herd-boy in his red coat
lounging along behind them
Shame at losing myself and dread of the others'
chaff kept me very quiet, and all they knew for many
months was that we had had a long fruitless chase
after koodoo and hard work to get back in time.
I had had my lesson, and did not require to have
it rubbed in and be roasted as Buggins had been.
Only Jock and I knew all about it ; but once or twice
there were anxious nervous moments when it looked
as if we were not the only ones in the secret. The
big Zulu driver, Jim Makokel' — always interested in
hunting and all that concerned Jock — asked me as
we were inspanning what I had fired the last two
shots at ; and as I pretended not to hear or to notice
the question, he went on to say how he had told the
other boys that it must have been a klipspringer on
a high rock or a monkey or a bird because the bullets
had whistled over the waggons. I told him to inspan
and not talk so much, and moved round to the other
side of the waggon.
That night I slept hard, but woke up once
dreaming that several lions were looking down at me
from the top of a big flat rock and Jock was keeping
them off.
Jock was in his usual place beside me, lying against
my blankets. I gave him an extra pat for the dream,
thinking, " Good old boy ; we know all about it, you
and I, and we're not going to tell. But we've learned
some things that we won't forget." And as I dropped
off to sleep again I felt a few feeble sleepy pats against
my leg, and knew it was Jock's tail wagging " Good
night."
NOT all our days were spent in excitement — far far
from it. For six or seven months the rains were too
heavy, the heat too great, the grass too rank, and the
fever too bad in the Bushveld for any one to do any
good there ; so that for more than half of the year we
had no hunting to speak of, as there was not much
to be done above the Berg. But even during the
hunting season there were many off-days and long
spells when we never fired a shot. The work with
the waggons was hard when we had full loads, the
trekking slow and at night, so that there was always
something to do in the daytime — repairs to be
done, oxen to be doctored, grass and water to be
looked for, and so on ; and we had to make up sleep
when we could. Even when the sport was good and
the bag satisfactory there was usually nothing new
to tell about it. So Jock and I had many a long
spell when there was no hunting, many a bad day
when we worked hard but had no sport, and many
a good day when we got what we were after and
nothing happened that would interest any one else.
153
Every hunt was exciting and interesting for us, even
those in which we got nothing ; indeed some of the
most interesting were those in which the worst disap-
pointments occurred, when after hard work and long
chases the game escaped us. To tell all that happened
would be to tell the same old story many times over ;
but indeed, it would not be possible to tell all, for
there were some things — the most interesting of all,
perhaps — which only Jock knew.
After the fight with the duiker there was never
any doubt as to what he would do if allowed to follow
up a wounded animal. It made a deal of difference
in the hunting to know that he could be trusted to
find it and hold on or bay it until I could get up.
The bush was so thick that it was not possible to see
more than a very few hundred yards at best, and the
country was so dry and rough that if a wounded animal
once got out of sight only an expert tracker had any
chance of finding it again. Jock soon showed himself
to be better than the best of trackers, for besides never
losing the trail he would either pull down the buck
or, if too big for that, attack and worry even the
biggest of them to such an extent that they would have
to keep turning on him to protect themselves and thus
give me the chance to catch up.
But the first result of my confidence in him was
some perfectly hopeless chases. It is natural enough
to give oneself the benefit of any doubt ; the enthu-
siastic beginner always does so, and in his case the
lack of experience often creates a doubt where none
should have existed ; and the doubt is often very
'54
welcome, helping him out with explanations of the un-
flattering facts. For the listener it is, at best and worst,
only amusing or tiresome ; but for the person con-
cerned it is different — for, as Rocky said, ' It don't fool
any one worth speakin' of 'cept yerself .' And ' there's
the rub.' Whenever a bullet struck with a thud, and no
dust appeared to show that it had hit the ground, I
thought that it must have wounded the buck ; and once
you get the idea that the buck is hit, all sorts of reasons
appear in support of it. There is hardly anything that
the buck can do which does not seem to you to prove
that it is wounded. It bounds into the air, races off
suddenly, or goes away quite slowly ; it switches its
tail or shakes its head ; it stops to look back, or does
not stop at all ; the spoor looks awkward and scrappy ;
the rust on the grass looks like dry blood. If you start
with a theory instead of weighing the evidence all
these things will help to prove that theory : they will,
in fact, mean exactly what you want them to mean.
You ' put up a job on yerself ' — to quote Rocky
again — and with the sweat of your brow and vexation
of spirit you have to work that job out.
Poor old Jock had a few hard chases after animals
which I thought were wounded but were not hit at all
— not many, however, for he soon got hold of the right
idea and was a better judge than his master. He
went off the instant he was sent, but if there was
nothing wounded — that is, if he could not pick up
a ' blood spoor ' — he would soon show it by casting
across the trail, instead of following hard on it ; and
I knew then there was nothing in it. Often he would
come back of his own accord, and there was something
quite peculiar in his look when he returned from these
wild-goose chases that seemed to say, " No good : you
were quite wrong. You missed the whole lot of them."
He would come up to me with his mouth wide open
• and tongue out, a bit blown, and stand still with his front
legs wide apart, looking up at me with that nothing-
in-it sort of look in his eyes and not a movement in
his ears or tail and never a turn of his head to show
the least interest in anything else. I got to know that
look quite well; and to me it meant, "Well, that job
was a failure — finished and done for. Now is there
anything else you can think of ? "
What always seemed to me so curious and full of
meaning was that he never once looked back in the
direction of the unwounded game, but seemed to
put them out of his mind altogether as of no further
interest. It was very different when he got on to the
trail of a wounded buck and I had to call him off, as
was sometimes necessary when the chase looked hope-
less or it was too late to go further. He would obey,
of course — no amount of excitement made him forget
that ; but he would follow me in a sort of sideways
trot, looking back over his shoulder all the time, and
whenever there was a stop, turning right round and
staring intently in the direction of the game with
his little tail moving steadily from side to side and his
hind legs crouched as if ready to spring off the instant
he got permission.
Twice I thought he was lost for ever through
following wounded game. The first occasion was also
156
the first time that we got among the impala and saw
them in numbers. There is no more beautiful and
fascinating sight than that of a troop of impala or
springbuck really on the move and jumping in earnest.
The height and distance that they clear is simply
incredible. The impala's greater size and its delicate
spiral horns give it a special distinction ; the spring-
buck's brilliant white and red, and the divided crest
which fans out along the spine when it is excited, are
unique. But who can say which of the many beautiful
antelopes is the most beautiful ? The oldest hunter
will tell you of first one, then another, and then
another, as they come to mind, just as he saw them
in some supreme unforgettable moment ; and each at
that moment has seemed quite the most beautiful
animal in the world.
It is when they are jumping that the impala are seen
at their best. No one knows what they really can do,
for there are no. fences in their country by which to
judge or guess, and as they run in herds it is practically
impossible ever to find the take-off or landing-place
of any single animal. Once when hunting along the
Wenhla Mohali River we managed to turn seven of
them into an old run ending in a rocky gorge ; but
suspecting danger they would not face the natural
outlet, and turning up the slope cleared a barrier of
thick thorn scrub and escaped. When we looked at
the place afterwards we found that the bushes were
nine feet high. We were not near enough to see
whether they touched the tops or cleared them
all we were sure of was that they did not hesitate for
157
a second to face a jump nine feet high at the top of a
sharp rise, and that all seven did it in follow-my-
leader order with the most perfect ease and grace.
Every hunter has seen a whole troop, old and young,
following the example of the leader, clear a road or
donga twenty feet wide, apparently in an effortless
stride. It is a fine sight, and the steady stream of
buck makes an arch of red and white bodies over the
road looking like the curve of a great wave. You
stand and watch in speechless admiration ; and the
first gasp at a glorious leap is followed by steady
silent wonder at the regularity of the numbers. Then
suddenly you see one animal — for no apparent reason :
it may be fright or it may be frolic — take off away
back behind the others, shoot up, and sail high above
the arch of all the rest, and with head erect and feet
comfortably gathered, land far beyond them — the
difference between ease and effort, and oh ! the perfect
grace of both ! Something is wrung from you —
a word, a gasp — and you stand breathless with wonder
and admiration until the last one is gone. You have
forgotten to shoot ; but they have left you something
better than a trophy, something which time will
only glorify — a picture that in daylight or in dark
will fill your mind whenever you hear the name
Impala.
Something of this I carried away from my first
experience among them. There were a few minutes
of complete bewilderment, a scene of the wildest
confusion, and flashes of incident that go to make
a great picture which it is impossible to forget. But
158
then there followed many hours of keen anxiety when I
believed that Jock was gone for ever ; and it was long
before that day found its place in the gallery of happy
memories.
We had gone out after breakfast, striking well away
from the main road until we got among the thicker
thorns where there was any amount of fresh spoor
and we were quite certain to find a troop sooner or
later. The day was so still, the ground so dry, and
the bush so thick that the chances were the game would
hear us before we could get near enough to see them.
Several times I heard sounds of rustling bush or feet
cantering away : something had heard us and made
off unseen ; so I dropped down into the sandy bed of
a dry donga and used it as a stalking trench. From
this it was easy enough to have a good look around
every hundred yards or so without risk of being heard
or seen. We had been going along cautiously in this
way for some time when, peering over the bank, I
spied a single impala half hidden by a scraggy bush.
It seemed queer that there should be only one, as
their habit is to move in troops ; but there was nothing
else to be seen ; indeed it was only the flicker of an
ear on this one that had caught my eye. Nothing
else in the land moved.
Jock climbed the bank also, following so closely
that he bumped against my heels, and when I lay flat
actually crawled over my legs to get up beside me and
see what was on. Little by little he got into the way
of imitating all I did, so that after a while it was
hardly necessary to say a word or make a sign
'59
to him. He lay down beside me and raised his head to
look just as he saw me do. He was all excitement,
trembling like a wet spaniel on a^cold day, and instead
of looking steadily at the impala as I was doing and as he
usually did, he was looking here there and everywhere ;
it seemed almost as if he was looking at things — not
for them. It was my comfortable belief at the moment
that he had not yet spotted the buck, but was looking
about anxiously to find out what was interesting me.
It turned out, as usual, that he had seen a great deal
more than his master had.
The stalking looked very easy, as a few yards further
up the donga there was excellent cover in some dense
thorns, behind which we could walk boldly across open
ground to within easy range of the buck and get a
clear shot. We reached the cover all right, but I had
not taken three steps into the open space beyond
before there was a rushing and scrambling on every
side of me. The place was a whirlpool of racing and
plunging impala ; they came from every side and went
in every direction as though caught suddenly in an
enclosure and, mad with fear and bewilderment, were
trying to find a way out. How many there were it
was quite impossible to say : the bush was alive with
them ; and the dust they kicked up, the noise of their
feet, their curious sneezy snorts, and their wild con-
fusion completely bewildered me. Not one stood
still. Never for a moment could I see any single
animal clearly enough or long enough to fire at it ;
another would cross it ; a bush would cover it as I
aimed ; or it would leap into the air, clearing bushes,
1 60
h
bucks and everything in its way, and disappear again
in the moving mass. They seemed to me to whirl
like leaves in a wind eddy : my eyes could not follow
them and my brain swam as I looked.
It was a hot day ; there was no breeze at all ; and
probably the herd had been resting after their morning
feed and drink when we came upon them. By creep-
ing up along the donga we had managed to get un-
observed right into the middle of the dozing herd,
so they were literally on every side of us. At times it
looked as if they were bound to stampede over us and
simply trample us down in their numbers ; for in
their panic they saw nothing, and not one appeared
to know what or where the danger was. Time and
again, as for part of a second I singled one out and
tried to aim, others would come racing straight for
us, compelling me to switch round to face them, only
to find them swerve with a dart or a mighty bound
when within a few paces of me.
What Jock was doing during that time I do not
know. It was all such a whirl of excitement and
confusion that there are only a few clear impressions
left on my mind. One is of a buck coming through
the air right at me, jumping over the backs of two
others racing across my front. I can see now the
sudden wriggle of its body and the look of terror in
its eyes when it saw me and realised that it was going
to land almost at my feet. I tried to jump aside, but
it was not necessary : with one touch on the ground
it shot slantingly past me like a ricochet bullet. Another
picture that always comes back is that of a splendid
161 L
ram clearing the first of the dense thorn bushes that
were to have been my cover in stalking. He flew over
it outlined against the sky in the easiest most graceful
and most perfect curve imaginable. It came back
to me afterwards that he was eight or ten yards from
me, and yet I had to look up into the sky to see his
white chest and gracefully gathered feet as he cleared
the thorn bush like a soaring bird.
One shot, out of three or four fired in desperation
as they were melting away, hit something ; the un-
mistakable thud of the bullet told me so. That time
it was the real thing, and when you hear the real thing
you cannot mistake it. The wounded animal went
off with the rest and I followed, with Jock ahead
of me hot on the trail. A hundred yards further on
where Jock with his nose to the ground had raced
along between some low stones and a marula tree I
came to a stop — bush all round me, not a living thing
in sight, and all as silent as the grave. On one of the
smooth hot stones there was a big drop of blood, and
a few yards on I found a couple more. Here and there
along the spoor there were smears on the long yellow
grass, and it was clear enough, judging by the height
of the blood-marks from the ground, that the impala
was wounded in the body — probably far back, as there
were no frothy bubbles to show a lung shot. I knew
that it would be a long chase unless Jock could head
the buck off and bay it ; but unless he could do this
at once, he was so silent in his work that there was
little chance of finding him. The trail became more
and more difficult to follow ; the blood was less
162
frequent, and the hot sun dried it so quickly that it
was more than I could do to pick it out from the red
streaks on the grass and many coloured leaves. So
I gave it up and sat down to smoke and wait.
Half an hour passed, and still no Jock. Then I
wandered about whistling and calling for him —
calling until the sound of my own voice became quite
uncanny, the only sound in an immense silence.
Two hours passed in useless calling and listening,
searching and waiting, and then I gave it up altogether
and made back for the waggons, trying to hope against
my real conviction that Jock had struck the road some-
where and had followed it to the outspan, instead
of coming back on his own trail through the bush
to me.
But there was no Jock at the waggons ; and my heart
sank, although I was not surprised. It was nearly
four hours since he had disappeared, and it was as
sure as anything could be that something extra-
ordinary must have happened or he would have come
back to me long before this. No one at the waggons
had seen him since we started out together ; and
there was nothing to be done but to wait and see what
would happen. It was perfectly useless to look for
him : if alive and well, he was better able to find
his way than the best tracker that ever lived ; if dead
or injured and unable to move, there was not one
chance in a million of finding him.
There was only one kaffir whom Jock would take
any notice of or would allow to touch him — a great
big Zulu named Jim Makokel'. Jim was one of the
163
real fighting Zulu breed ; and the pride he took in
Jock, and the sort of partnership that he claimed in
tastes, disposition and exploits, began the day Jock
fought the table-leg and grew stronger and stronger
to the end. Jim became Jock's devoted champion, and
more than once, as will be seen, showed that he would
face man or beast to stand by him when he needed help.
This day when I returned to the waggons Jim was
sitting with the other drivers in the group round the
big pot of porridge. I saw him give one quick look
my way and heard him say sharply to the others,
" Where is the dog ? Where is Jock ? " He stood
there looking at me with a big wooden spoon full
of porridge stopped on the way to his mouth. In
a few minutes they all knew what had happened ;
the other boys took it calmly, saying composedly that
the dog would find his way back. But Jim was not
calm : it was not his nature. At one moment he
would agree with them, swamping them with a flood
of reasons why Jock, the best dog in the world, would
be sure to come back ; and the next — hot with restless
excitement — would picture all that the dog might have
been doing and all that he might still have to face,
and then break off to proclaim loudly that every one
ought to go out and hunt for him. Jim was not practical
or reasonable — he was too excitable for that ; but he
was very loyal, and it was his way to show his feelings
by doing something — generally and preferably by
fighting some one. Knowing only too well how useless
it would be to search for Jock, I lay down under the
waggon to rest and wait.
164
After half an hour of this Jim could restrain himself
no longer. He came over to where I lay and with a
look of severe disapproval and barely controlled in-
dignation, asked me for a gun, saying that he himself
meant to go out and look for Jock. It would be nearer
the mark to say that he demanded a gun. He was so
genuinely anxious and so indignant at what he con-
sidered my indifference that it was impossible to be
angry ; and I let him talk away to me and at me in
his exciting bullying way. He would take no answer
and listen to no reason ; so finally to keep him quiet
I gave him the shot-gun, and off he went, muttering
his opinions of every one else — a great springy striding
picture of fierce resolution.
He came back nearly three hours later, silent,
morose, hot and dusty. He put the gun down beside
me without a word — just a click of disgust ; and as
he strode across to his waggon, called roughly to one of
the drivers for the drinking water. Lifting the bucket to
his mouth he drank like an ox and slammed it down again
without a word of thanks ; then sat down in the shade
of the waggon, filled his pipe, and smoked in silence.
The trekking hour came and passed ; but we did not
move. The sun went down, and in the quiet of the
evening we heard the first jackal's yapping — the first
warning of the night. There were still lions and tigers
in those parts, and any number of hyenas and wild
dogs, and the darker it grew and the more I thought
of it, the more hopeless seemed Jock's chance of getting
through a night in the bush trying to work his way back
to the waggons.
165
It was almost dark when I was startled by a yell
from Jim MakokeP, and looking round, saw him bound
out into the road shouting, " He has come, he has
come ! What did I tell you ? " He ran out to Jock,
stooping to pat and talk to him, and then in a lower
voice and with growing excitement went on rapidly,
" See the blood ! See it ! He has fought : he has
killed ! Dog of all dogs ! Jock, Jock ! " and his
savage song of triumph broke off in a burst of rough
tenderness, and he called the dog's name five or six
times with every note of affection and welcome in his
deep voice. Jock took no notice of Jim's dancing
out to meet him, nor of his shouts, endearments and
antics ; slowing his tired trot down to a walk, he
came straight on to me, flickered his ears a bit, wagged
his tail cordially, and gave my hand a splashy lick as
I patted him. Then he turned round in the direction
he had just come from, looked steadily out, cocked
his ears well up, and moved his tail slowly from side
to side. For the next half-hour or so he kept repeating
this action every few minutes ; but even without
that I knew that it had been no wild-goose chase,
and that miles away in the bush there was something
lying dead which he could show me if I would but
follow him back again to see.
What had happened in the eight hours since he
dashed off in pursuit can only be guessed. That
had pulled down the impala and killed it seemed
certain — and what a chase and what a fight it must
have been to take all that time ! The buck could not
have been so badly wounded in the body as to be
1 66
disabled or it would have died in far less time than
that : then, what a fight it must have been to kill
an animal six or eight times his own weight and
armed with such horns and hoofs ! But was it only
the impala ? or had the hyenas and wild dogs followed
up the trail, as they so often do, and did Jock have to
fight his way through them too ?
He was hollow-flanked and empty, parched with
thirst, and so blown that his breath still caught in
suffocating chokes. He was covered with blood and
sand ; his beautiful golden coat was dark and stained ;
his white front had disappeared ; and there on his
chest and throat, on his jaws and ears, down his front
legs even to the toes, the blood was caked on him —
mostly black and dried but some still red and sticky.
He was a little lame in one fore-leg, but there was
no cut or swelling to show the cause. There was only
one mark to be seen : over his right eye there was
a bluish line where the hair had been shaved off clean,
leaving the skin smooth and unbroken. What did
it ? Was it horn, hoof, tooth, or — what ? Only
Jock knew.
Hovering round and over me, pacing backwards
and forwards between the waggons like a caged
animal, Jim, growing more and more excited, filled
the air with his talk his shouts and savage song. Want-
ing to help, but always in the way, ordering and thrust-
ing the other boys here and there, he worked
himself up into a wild frenzy : it
the Zulu fighting blood on fire
and he ' saw red ' everywhere.
167
I called for water. " Water ! " roared Jim, " bring
water " ; and glaring round he made a spring — stick
in hand — at the nearest kaffir. The boy fled in terror,
with Jim after him for a few paces, and brought a
bucket of water. Jim snatched it from him and with
a resounding thump on the ribs sent the unlucky
kaffir sprawling on the ground. Jock took the water
in great gulpy bites broken by pauses to get his breath
again ; and Jim paced up and down — talking, talking,
talking ! Talking to me, to the others, to the kaffirs,
to Jock, to the world at large, to the heavens, and to
the dead. His eyes glared like a wild beast's and
gradually little seams of froth gathered in the corners
of his mouth as he poured out his cataract of words,
telling of all Jock had done and might have done
and would yet do ; comparing him with the fighting
heroes of his own race, and wandering off into vivid
recitals of single episodes and great battles ; seizing
his sticks, shouting his war cries, and going through
all the mimicry of fight with the wild frenzy of one
possessed. Time after time I called him and tried
to quiet him ; but he was beyond control.
Once before he had broken out like this. I had
asked him something about the Zulu war ; and that
had started a flood of memories and excitement. In
the midst of some description I asked why they killed
the children ; and he turned his glaring eyes on me
,1 and said, " Inkos, you are my Inkos ;
but you are white. If we fight to-
morrow, I will kill you. You are
good to me, you have
1 68
saved me ; but if our own king says ' Kill ! ' we kill !
We see red ; we kill all that lives. I must kill you,
your wife, your mother, your children, your horses,
your oxen, your dog, the fowls that run with the
waggons — all that lives I kill. The blood must run."
And I believed him ; for that was the Zulu righting
spirit. So this time I knew it was useless to order or
to talk : he was beyond control, and the fit must run
its course.
The night closed in and there was quiet once more.
The flames of the camp fires had died down ; the big
thorn logs had burnt into glowing coals like the pink
crisp hearts of giant water-melons ; Jock lay sleeping,
tired out, but even in his sleep came little spells of
panting now and then, like the after-sobs of a child
that has cried itself to sleep ; we lay rolled in our
blankets, and no sound came from where the kafHrs
slept. But Jim — only Jim — sat on his rough three-
legged stool, elbows on knees and hands clasped
together, staring intently into the coals. The fit
worked slowly off, and his excitement died gradually
away ; now and then there was a fresh burst, but
always milder and at longer intervals, as you may see
it in a dying fire or at the end of a great storm ; slowly
but surely he subsided until at last there were only
occasional mutterings of " Ow, Jock ! " followed by
the Zulu click, the expressive shake of the head, and
that appreciative half grunt, half chuckle, by which
they pay tribute to what seems truly wonderful. He
wanted no sleep that night : he sat on, waiting for the
morning trek, staring into the red coals, and thinking
169
of the bygone glories of his race in the days of the
mighty Chaka.
That was Jim, when the fit was on him — transported
by some trifling and unforeseen incident from the
hum-drum of the road to the life he once had lived
with splendid recklessness.
fTfflrifflM Wyit'ljK- i ^"^--^^ — ~
Kl»
" ' >rt j£ •
JOCK was lost twice : that is to say, he was lost to me,
and, as I thought, for ever. It came about both
times through his following up wounded animals
and leaving me behind, and happened in the days
when our hunting was all done on foot ; when I
could afford a horse and could keep pace with him
that difficulty did not trouble us. The experience
with the impala had made me very careful not to let
him go unless I felt sure that the game was hard hit
and that he would be able to pull it down or bay it.
But it is not always easy to judge that. A broken leg
shows at once ; but a body shot is very difficult to
place, and animals shot through the lungs, and even
through the lower part of the heart, often go away
at a cracking pace and are out of sight in no time,
perhaps to keep it up for miles, perhaps to drop dead
within a few minutes.
After that day with the impala we had many good
days together and many hard ones : we had our
disappointments, but we had our triumphs ; and we
were both getting to know our way about by degrees.
Buck of many kinds had fallen to us ; but so far as I
171
was concerned there was one disappointment
that was not to be forgotten. The picture
of that koodoo bull as he appeared for the
last time looking over the ant-heap the day
we were lost was always before me. I could not
hear the name or see the spoor of koodoo with-
out a pang of regret and the thought that
never again would such a chance occur. Koodoo,
like other kinds of game, were not to be found every-
where ; they favoured some localities more than others,
and when we passed through their known haunts
chances of smaller game were often neglected in the
hope of coming across the koodoo.
I could not give up whole days to hunting — for we
had to keep moving along with the waggons all the
time — or it would have been easy enough in many
parts to locate the koodoo and make sure of getting
a good bag. As it was, on three or four occasions
we did come across them, and once I got a running
shot, but missed. This was not needed to keep my
interest in them alive, but it made me keener than
ever. Day by day I went out always hoping to get
my chance, and when at last the chance did come it
was quite in accordance with the experience of many
others that it was not in the least expected.
The great charm of Bushveld hunting is its variety :
you never know what will turn up next — the only
certainty being that it will not be what you are
expecting.
The herd boy came --^\\XY; ;, . in one after-
noon to say that there J5^^|'i, was a stem-
172
buck feeding among the oxen only a couple of
hundred yards away. He had been quite close
to it, he said, and it was very tame. Game,
so readily alarmed by the sight of white men, will
often take no notice of natives, allowing them to
approach to very close quarters. They are also
easily stalked under cover of cattle or horses, and much
more readily approached on horseback than on foot.
The presence of other animals seems to give them con-
fidence or to excite mild curiosity without alarm,
and thus distract attention from the man. In this
case the bonny little red-brown fellow was not a bit
scared ; he maintained his presence of mind admirably ;
from time to time he turned his head our way and,
with his large but shapely and most sensitive ears
thrown forward examined us frankly while he moved
slightly one way or another so as to keep under cover
of the oxen and busily continue his browsing.
Tn and out among some seventy head of cattle we
played hide-and-seek for quite a while — I not daring
to fire for fear of hitting one of the bullocks — until
at last he found himself manoeuvred out of the troop ;
and then without giving me a chance he was off into
the bush in a few frisky skips. I followed quietly,
knowing that as he was on the feed and not scared he
would not go far.
Moving along silently under good cover I reached
a thick scrubby bush and peered over the top of it
to search the grass under the surrounding thorn trees
for the little red-brown form. I was looking about
low down in the russety grass — for he was only about
173
twice the size of Jock, and not easy to spot — when
a movement on a higher level caught my eye. It
was just the flip of a fly-tickled ear ; but it was a
movement where all else was still, and instantly the
form of a koodoo cow appeared before me as a picture
is thrown on a screen by a magic-lantern. There
it stood within fifty yards, the soft grey-and-white
looking still softer in the shadow of the thorns, but as
clear to me — and as still — as a figure carved in stone.
The stem of a mimosa hid the shoulders, but all the
rest was plainly visible as it stood there utterly un-
conscious of danger. The tree made a dead shot
almost impossible, but the risk of trying for another
position was too great, and I fired. The thud of the
bullet and the tremendous bound of the koodoo straight
up in the air told that the shot had gone home ; but
these things were for a time forgotten in the surprise
that followed. At the sound of the shot twenty other
koodoo jumped into life and sight before me. The
one I had seen and shot was but one of a herd all dozing
peacefully in the shade, and strangest of all, it was the
one that was farthest from me. To the right and left
of this one, at distances from fifteen to thirty yards
from me, the magnificent creatures had been standing,
and I had not seen them ; it was the flicker of this
one's ear alone that had caught my eye. My be-
:-'- vvilderment was complete when I saw the big bull
tne nei>d start ofl twenty yards on my right front
and pass away like a streak in a few sweep-
ing strides. It was a matter of seconds
only and they were all out of sight —
'74
all except the wounded one, which had turned
off from the others. For all the flurry and
confusion I had not lost sight of her, and noting
her tucked-up appearance and shortened strides
set Jock on her trail, believing that she would be
down in a few minutes.
It is not necessary to go over it all again : it was
much the same as the impala chase. I came back
tired, disappointed and beaten, and without Jock.
It was only after darkness set in that things began to
look serious. When it came to midnight, with the
camp wrapped in silence and in sleep, and there was
still no sign of Jock, things looked very black indeed.
1 heard his panting breath before it was possible to
see anything. It was past one o'clock when he returned.
* * * * *
As we had missed the night trek to wait for Jock I
decided to stay on where we were until the next
evening and to have another try for the wounded koo-
doo, with the chance of coming across the troop again.
By daybreak Jock did not seem much the worse
for his night's adventures — whatever they were.
There were no marks of blood on him this time ;
there were some scratches which might have been
caused by thorns during the chase, and odd-looking
grazes on both hind-quarters near the hip-bones,
as though he had been roughly gravelled there. He
seemed a little stiff, and flinched when I pressed his
sides and muscles, but he was as game as ever when he
saw the rifle taken down.
175
The koodoo had been shot through the body, and
even without being run to death by Jock must have
died in the night, or have lain down and become too
cold and stiff to move. If not discovered by wild
animals there was a good chance of finding it un-
touched in the early morning ; but after sunrise
every minute's delay meant fresh risk from the aas-
vogels. There is very little which, if left uncovered,
will escape their eyes. You may leave your buck
f°r h-elp to Drmg the meat in, certain from the most
careful scrutiny that there is not one of these creatures
in sight, and return in half an hour to find nothing
but a few bones, the horns and hoofs, a rag of skin,
and a group of disgusting gorged vultures squatting
on a patch of ground all smeared, torn and feather-
strewn from their voracious struggles.
In the winter sky unrelieved by the least fleck of
cloud — a dome of spotless polished steel — nothing,
you would think, can move unseen. Yet they are
there. In the early morning, from their white-
splashed eeries on some distant mountain they slide
off like a launching ship into their sea of blue, and,
striking the currents of the upper air, sweep round and
upwards in immense circles, their huge motionless
wings carrying them higher and higher until they are
lost to human sight. Lie on your back in some dense
shade where no side-lights strike in, but where an
opening above forms a sort of natural telescope to the
sky, and you may see tiny specks where nothing could
be seen before. Take your field-glasses : the specks
are vultures circling up on high ! Look again, and
far, far above you will see still other specks ; and for
176
aught you know, there may be others still beyond.
How high are they ? And what can they see from
there ? Who knows ? But this is sure, that within a
few minutes scores will come swooping down in great
spiral rushes where not one was visible before. My own
belief is that they watch each other, tier above tier
away into the limitless heavens — watching jealously, as
hungry dogs do, for the least suspicious sign — to swoop
down and share the spoil.
In the dewy cool of the morning we soon reached
the place where Jock had left me behind the evening
before ; and from that on he led the way. It was
much slower work then ; as far as I was concerned,
there was nothing to guide me, and it was impossible
to know what he was after. Did he understand that
it was not fresh game but the wounded koodoo that
I wanted ? And, if so, was he following the scent
of the old chase or merely what he might remember
of the way he had gone ? It seemed impossible
that scent could lie in that dry country for twelve
hours ; yet it was clearly nose more than eyes that
guided him. He went ahead soberly and steadily,
and once when he stopped completely, to sniff at a
particular tuft of grass, I found out what was helping
him. The grass was well streaked with blood : quite
dry, it is true ; still it was blood.
A mile or so on we checked again where the grass
was trampled and the ground scored with spoor. The
heavy spoor was all in a ring four or five yards in
diameter ; outside this the grass was also flattened,
and there I found a dog's footprints. But it had no
further interest for Jock ; while I was examining it he
177 M
11 —1Z3K**1*
.3,. , animal's nature
238
so clearly as the last act in the struggle : it stood passive,
and apparently beaten, while the boys inspanned it again.
But at the first call to the team to start, and without
a touch to provoke its temper again, it dropped down
once more. Not one of all those looking on would
have believed it possible ; but there it was ! In the
most deliberate manner the challenge was again flung
down, and the whole fight begun afresh.
We felt really desperate : one could think of nothing
but to repeat the bucket trick ; for it was the only one
that had succeeded at all. The bucket had been flung
aside on the stones as the ox freed itself, and one of
the boys picked it up to fetch more water. But no
more was needed : the rattle of the bucket brought
Bantom to his feet with a terrified jump, and flinging
his whole weight into the yoke, he gave the waggon a
heave that started the whole span, and they went out
at a run. The drivers had not even picked up their
whips : the only incentive applied was the bucket,
which the boy — grasping the position at once —
rattled vigorously behind Bantom, doubling his frantic
eagerness to get away, amid shouts of encouragement
and laughter from the watching group.
The trials and lessons of the work came in various
shapes and at every turn ; and there were many trials
where the lesson was not easy to read. It would have
taken a good man to handle Bantom, at any time —
even in the beginning ; but, full-grown, and confirmed
in his evil ways, only the butcher could make anything
out of him.
And only the butcher did !
THERE is a spot on the edge of the Berg which we
made our summer quarters. When September
came round and the sun swung higher in the
steely blue, blazing down more pitilessly than
ever ; when the little creeks were running
dry and the water-holes became saucers of cracked
mud ; when the whole country smelt of fine impal-
pable dust ; it was a relief to quit the Bushveld,
and even the hunting was given up almost without
regret.
On the Berg the air was clear and bracing, as well
it might be five to seven thousand feet above the sea.
The long green sweeps of undulating country were
broken by deep gorges where the mountain streams
had cut their way through the up-tilted outer edge
of the big plateau and tumbled in countless water-
falls into the Bushveld below ; and behind the rolling
downs again stood the remnants of the upper for-
mation— the last tough fragments of those rocks
which the miners believed originally held the gold
— worn and washed away, inch by inch and ounce
240
by ounce ever since the Deluge. These broken para-
pets stood up like ruins of giant castles with every
layer in their formation visible across their rugged
time-worn fronts — lines, in places a few yards only and
in others a mile or more in length, laid one upon
another as true as any spirit level could set them —
and a wealth of colouring over all that, day by day,
one thought more wonderful in variety and blend.
Grey and black and yellow, white and red and brown,
were there ; yet all harmonising, all shaded by growths
of shrub and creeper, by festoons of moss or brilliant
lichen, all weather-stained and softened, all toned, as
time and nature do it, to make straight lines and many
colours blend into the picturesque.
Paradise Camp perched on the very edge of the
Berg. Behind us rolled green slopes to the feet of the
higher peaks, and in front of us lay the Bushveld.
From the broken battlements of the Berg we looked
down three thousand feet, and eastward to the sea
a hundred and fifty miles away, across the vast pano-
rama. Black densely-timbered kloofs broke the edge
of the plateau into a long series of projecting turrets,
in some places cutting far in, deep crevices into which
the bigger waterfalls plunged and were lost. But the
top of the Berg itself was bare of trees : the breeze
blew cool and fresh for ever there ; the waters trickled
and splashed in every little break or tumbled with
steady roar down the greater gorges ; deep pools,
fringed with masses of ferns, smooth as mirrors or
flecked with dancing sunlight, were &et like brilliants
in the silver chain of each little stream ; and rocks and
241 Q
pebbles, wonderful in their colours, were magnified and
glorified into polished gems by the sparkling water.
But Nature has her moods, and it was not always
thus at Paradise Camp. When the cold mist-rains,
like wet grey fogs, swept over us and for a week
blotted out creation, it was neither pleasant nor safe
to grope along the edge of the Berg, in search of strayed
cattle — wet and cold, unable to see, and checked from
time to time by a keener straighter gust that leapt
up over the unseen precipice a few yards off.
And there was still another mood when the summer
rains set in and the storms burst over us, and the
lightning stabbed viciously in all directions, and the
crackling crash of the thunder seemed as if the very
Berg itself must be split and shattered. Then the
rivers rose ; the roar of waters was all around us ;
and Paradise Camp was isolated from the rest by
floods which no man would lightly face.
Paradise Camp stood on the edge of the kloof where
the nearest timber grew ; Tumbling Waters, where
stood the thousand grey sandstone sentinels of strange
fantastic shapes, was a couple of miles away facing Black
Bluff, the highest point of all, and The Camel, The Wolf,
The Sitting Hen and scores more, rough casts in rock
by Nature's hand, stood there. Close below us was
the Bathing Pool, with its twenty feet of purest water,
its three rock-ledge * springboards,' and its banks of
moss and canopies of tree ferns. Further down the
stream spread in a thousand pools and rapids over a mile
of black bedrock and then poured in one broad sheet
over Graskop Falls. And still further down were the
242
Mac Mac Falls, three hundred feet straight drop ,
into the rock-strewn gorge, where the straight walls
were draped with staghorn moss, like countless folds
of delicate green lace, bespangled by the spray. We
were felling and slipping timber for the goldfields then,
and it was in these surroundings that the work was
done.
It was a Sunday morning, and I was lying on my
back on a sack-stretcher taking it easy, when Jock
gave a growl and trotted out. Presently I heard
voices in the next hut and wondered who the visitors
were — too lazily content to get up and see ; then a
cold nose was poked against my cheek and I looked
round to see Jess's little eyes and flickering ears within
a few inches of my face. For the moment she did not
look cross, but as if a faint smile of welcome were
flitting across a soured face ; then she trotted back
to the other hut where Ted was patting Jock and try-
ing to trace a likeness to The Rat.
It was a long time since mother and son had been
together, and if the difference between them was
remarkable, the likeness seemed to me more striking
still. Jock had grown up by himself and made him-
self ; he was so different from other dogs that I had
forgotten how much he owed to good old Jess ; but
now that they were once more side by side everything
he did and had done recalled the likeness and yet
showed the difference between them. Many times
as we moved about the camp or worked in the woods
they walked or stood together, sometimes sniffing;
along some spoor and sometimes waiting and watching
for us to come up — handsome son and ugly mother.
Ugly she might be, with her little fretful hostile eyes
and her uncertain ever-moving ears, and silent sour
and cross ; but stubborn fidelity and reckless courage
were hers too ; and all the good Jock had in him came
from Jess.
To see them side by side was enough : every line
in his golden brindled coat had its counterpart in
her dull markings ; his jaw was hers, with a difference,
every whit as determined but without the savage look ;
his eyes were hers — brown to black as the moods
changed — yet not fretful and cross, but serenely ob-
servant, when quiet, and black, hot and angry, like
hers, when roused — yet without the look of relentless
cruelty ; his ears were hers — and yet how different,
not shifting, flickering and ever on the move, nor
flattened back with the look of most uncertain temper,
but sure in their movements and faithful reflectors
of more sober moods and more balanced temper, and
so often cocked — one full and one half — with a look
of genuinely friendly interest which, when he put his
head on one side, seemed to change in a curiously
comical way into an expression of quiet amusement.
The work kept us close to camp and we gave no
thought to shooting ; yet Jess and Jock had some good
sport together. We gave them courses for breathers
after Oribi in the open, but these fleetest of little
antelopes left them out of sight in very few minutes.
Bushbuck too were plentiful enough, but so wily in
keeping to the ^ dark woods and
deep kloofs that ^/^ss^j^ F*t,i $ unless we organised
*" ^ * *
244
a drive the only chance one got was to stalk them
in the early morning as they fed on the fringes of the
bush. I often wondered how the dogs would have
fared with those desperate fighters that have injured
and killed more dogs and more men than any other
buck, save perhaps the Sable.
Once they caught an ant-bear in the open, and there
was a rough-and-tumble ; we had no weapons — not
even sticks — with us, and the dogs had it all to them-
selves. The clumsy creature could do nothing with
them ; his powerful digging claws looked dangerous,
but the dogs never gave him a chance ; he tried hard
to reach his hole, but they caught him as he somer-
saulted to dodge them, and, one in front and one
behind, worried the life out of him.
Once they killed a tiger-cat. We heard the rush
and the row, and scrambled down through the tangled
woods as fast as we could, but they fought on, tumbling
and rolling downhill before us, and when we came up
to them it was all over and they were tugging and
tearing at the lifeless black and white body, Jess at
the throat and Jock at the stomach. The cat was as
big as either of them and armed with most formidable
claws, which it had used to some purpose, for both
dogs were torn and bleeding freely in several places.
Still they thoroughly enjoyed it and searched the
place afresh every time we passed it, as regularly as a
boy looks about where he once picked up a sixpence.
Then the dainty little klipspringers led them many
a crazy dance along the crags and ledges of the
mountain face, jumping from rock to rock with
245 4
ffly
the utmost ease and certainty and looking down with
calm curiosity at the clumsy scrambling dogs as they
vainly tried to follow. The dassies too — watchful,
silent and rubber-footed — played hide-and-seek with
them in the cracks and crevices ; but the dogs had
no chance there.
Often there were races after baboons. There were
thousands of them along the Berg, but except when a
few were found in the open, we always called the dogs
in. Among a troop of baboons the best of dogs would
have no show at all. Ugly, savage and treacherous
as they are, they have at least one quality which
compels admiration — they stand by each other. If
one is attacked or wounded the others will often turn
back and help, and they will literally tear a dog to
pieces. Even against one full-grown male a dog has
little or no chance ; for they are very powerful, quick
as lightning, and fierce fighters. Their enormous
jaws and teeth outmatch a dog's, and with four
1 hands ' to help them the advantage is altogether
too great. Their method of fighting is to hold the
dog with all four feet and tear pieces out of him
with their teeth.
We knew the danger well, for there was a fighting
baboon at a wayside place not far from us — a savage
brute, owned by a still greater savage. It was kept
chained up to a pole with its house on the top of the
pole ; and what the owner considered to be a good
joke was to entice dogs up, either to attack the baboon
or at least to come sniffing about within reach of it,
and then see them worried to death. The excuse was
246
always the same : " Your dog attacked the baboon.
I can't help it." Sometimes the dogs were rescued
by their owners ; but many were killed. To its
native cunning this brute added all the tricks that
experience had taught, sometimes hiding up in its
box to induce the dog to come sniffing close up ;
sometimes grubbing in the sand for food, pretending
not to see the intruder until he was well within reach ;
sometimes running back in feigned alarm to draw him
on. Once it got a grip the baboon threw itself on its
side or back and, with all four feet holding the dog
off, tore lumps out of the helpless animal. A plucky
dog that would try to make a fight of it had no chance ;
the only hope was to get away, if possible.
Not every baboon is a fighter like this, but in almost
every troop there will be at least one terrible old fellow,
and the biggest, strongest and fiercest always dominate
and lead the others ; and their hostility and audacity
are such that they will loiter behind the retreating
troop and face a man on foot or on horseback, slowly
and reluctantly giving way, or sometimes moving
along abreast, a hostile escort, giving loud roars of
defiance and hoarse challenges as though ready on the
least provocation or excuse to charge. It is not a
pleasant position for an unarmed man, as at the first
move or call from the leader the whole troop would
come charging down again. It is not actual danger
that impresses one, but the uncanny effect of the short
defiant roars, the savage half-human look of the repul-
sive creatures, their still more human methods of
facial expression and threatening attitudes, their tactics
247
in encircling their object and using cover to approach
and peer out cautiously from behind it, and their
evident co-operation and obedience to the leader's
directions and example.
One day while at work in the woods there came to
us a grizzled worn-looking old kaffir, whose head ring
of polished black wax attested his dignity as a kehla.
He carried an old musket and was attended by two
youngsters armed with throwing-sticks and a hunting
assegai each. He appeared to be a ' somebody ' in
a small way, and we knew at a glance that he had not
come for nothing.
There is a certain courtesy and a good deal of
formality observed among the natives which is appre-
ciated by but few of the white men who come in
contact with them. One reason for this failure in
appreciation is that native courtesy is in its method
and expression sometimes just the reverse of what we
consider proper ; and if actions which seem suggestive
of disrespect were judged from the native's standpoint,
and according to his code, there would be no mis-
understanding. The old man, passing and ignoring the
group of boys, came towards us as we sat in the shade
for the midday rest, and slowly came to a stand a
few yards off, leaning on his long flint-lock quietly
taking stock of us each in turn, and waiting for us to
inspect him. Then, after three or four minutes of this,
he proceeded to salute us separately with " Sakubona,
Umlungu ! " delivered with measured deliberation at
intervals of about a quarter of a minute, each saluta-
tion being accompanied by the customary upward
248
movement of the head — their respectful equivalent
of our nod or bow. When he had done the round,
his two attendants took their turns, and when this was
over, and another long pause had served to mark his
respect, he drew back a few paces to a spot about half-
way between us and where the kaffirs sat, and, tucking
his loin skins comfortably under him, squatted down.
Ten minutes more elapsed before he allowed his eyes
to wander absently round towards the boys and
finally to settle on them for a repetition of the perform-
ance that we had been favoured with. But in this
case it was they who led off with the " Sakubona,
Umganaam ! " which he acknowledged with the raising
of the head and a soft murmur of contented recogni-
tion, "A-he."
Once more there was silence for a spell, while he
waited to be questioned in the customary manner and
to give an account of himself, before it would be
courteous or proper to introduce the subject of his
visit. It was Jim's voice that broke the silence —
clear and imperative, as usual, but not uncivil. It
always was Jim who cut in, as those do who are
naturally impatient of delays and formalities.
" Velapi, Umganaam ? " (Where do you come from.,
friend ?) he asked, putting the question which is
recognised as courteously providing the stranger with
an opening to give an account of himself ; and he is
expected and required to do so to their satisfaction
before he in turn can ask all about them, their occupa-
tions, homes, destination and master, and his occupa-
tion, purpose and possessions.
249
The talk went round in low exchanges until at last
the old man moved closer and joined the circle ; and
then the other voices dropped out, only to be heard
once in a while in some brief question or that briefest
of all comments — the kaffir click and " Ow ! " It
may mean anything, according to the tone, but it was
clearly sympathetic on that occasion. The old man's
voice went on monotonously in a low-pitched impas-
sive tone ; but the boys hung intent on every word
to the end. Then one or two questions, briefly
answered in the same tone of detached philosophic
indifference, brought their talk to a close. The old
fellow tapped his carved wood snuff-box with the
carefully-preserved long yellowish nail of one fore-
finger, and pouring some snuff into the palm of his
hand, drew it into each nostril in turn with long luxu-
rious sniffs ; and then, resting his arms on his knees,
he relapsed into complete silence.
We called the boys to start work again, and they
came away, as is their custom, without a word or look
towards the man whose story had held them for the
last half-hour. Nor did he speak or stir, but sat on
unmoved, a picture of stoical indifference. But who
can say if it be indifference or fatalism or the most
astute diplomacy ? Among white men opinions differ :
I put it down as fatalism.
We asked no questions, for we knew it was no
accident that had brought the old man our way :
he wanted something, and we would learn soon enough
what it was. So we waited.
As we gathered round the fallen tree to finish the
250
cleaning and slip it down to the track Jim remarked
irrelevantly that tigers were * schelms,' and it was
his conviction that there were a great many in the
kloofs round about. At intervals during the next
hour or so he dropped other scraps about tigers and
their ways, and how to get at them and what good
sport it was, winding up with a short account of how
two seasons back an English * Capitaine ' had been
killed by one only a few miles away.
Jim was no diplomatist : he had tiger on the brain,
and showed it ; so when I asked him bluntly what the
old man had been talking about, the whole story
came out. There was a tiger — it was of course the
biggest ever seen — which had been preying on the
old chiefs kraal for the last six months : dogs, goats
and kaffir sheep innumerable had disappeared, even
fowls were not despised ; and only two days ago the
climax had been reached when, in the cool of the
afternoon and in defiance of the yelling herdboy,
it had slipped into the herd at the drinking-place
and carried off a calf — a heifer-calf too ! The old
man was poor : the tiger had nearly ruined him ;
and he had come up to see if we, " who were great
hunters," would come down and kill the thief, or
at least lend him a tiger-trap, as he could not afford
to buy one.
In the evening when we returned to camp we found
the old fellow there, and heard the story told with the
same patient resignation or stoical indifference with
which he had told it to the boys ; and, if there was
something inscrutable in the smoky eyes that might
251
have hidden a more calculating spirit, it did not
trouble us — the tiger was what we wanted ; the chance
^seemed good enough ; and we decided to go. Tigers
li — as they are almost invariably called, but properly,
leopards — were plentiful enough and were often to
be heard at night in the kloofs below ; but they are ex-
tremely wary animals and in the inhabited parts rarely
move about by day ; however, the marauding habits
and the audacity of this fellow were full of promise.
The following afternoon we set off with our guns
and blankets, a little food for two days, and the tiger-
trap ; and by nightfall we had reached the foot of the
Berg by paths and ways which you might think only
a baboon could follow.
It was moonlight, and we moved along through the
heavily-timbered kloofs in single file behind the
shadowy figure of the shrivelled old chief. His years
seemed no handicap to him, as with long easy soft-
footed strides he went on hour after hour. The air
was delightfully cool and sweet with the fresh smells
of the woods ; the damp carpet of moss and dead
leaves dulled the sound of our more blundering steps ;
now and again through the thick canopy of evergreens
we caught glimpses of the moon, and in odd places
the light threw stumps or rocks into quaint relief or
turned some tall bare trunk into a ghostly sentinel
of the forest.
We had crossed the last of the many mountain
streams and reached open ground when the old chief
stopped, and pointing to the face of a high krans —
black and threatening in the shadow, as it seemed
252
to overhang us — said that somewhere up there was
a ,4cave which^was the tiger's home, and it was from
this safe refuge that he raided the countryside.
The kraal was not far off. From the top of the
spur we could look round, as from the pit of some vast
coliseum, and see the huge wall of the Berg towering
up above and half enclosing us, the whole arena roofed
over by the star-spattered sky. The brilliant moon-
light picked out every ridge and hill, deepening the
velvet black of the shadowed valleys, and on the rise
before us there was the twinkling light of a small fire,
and the sound of voices came to us, borne on the still
night air, so clearly that words picked out here and
there were repeated by our boys with grunting com-
ments and chuckles of amusement.
We started on again down an easy slope passing
through some bush, and at the bottom came on level
ground thinly covered with big shady trees and scat-
tered undergrowth. As we walked briskly through the
flecked and dappled light and shade, we were startled
by the sudden and furious rush of Jess and Jock off
the path and away into the scrub on the left ; and
immediately after there was a grunting noise, a crash-
ing and scrambling, and then one sharp clear yelp of
pain from one of the dogs. The old chief ran back
behind us, shouting " Ingwa, ingwa ! " (Tiger, tiger).
We slipped our rifles round and stood facing front,
unable to see anything and not knowing what to
expect. There were sounds of some sort in the
bush — something like a faint scratching, and some-
thing like smothered sobbing grunts, but so indistinct
253
as to be more ominous and disquieting than absolute
silence.
" He has killed the dogs," the old chief said, in a low
voice.
But as he said it there was a rustle in front, and some-
thing came out towards us. The guns were up and
levelled, instantly, but dropped again when we saw it
was a dog ; and Jess came back limping badly and
stopping every few paces to shake her head and rub
her mouth against her fore-paws. She was in great
pain and breathed out faint barely-audible whines
from time to time.
We waited for minutes, but Jock did not appear ;
and as the curious sounds still came from the bush
we moved forward in open order, very slowly and with
infinite caution. As we got closer, scouting each bush
and open space, the sounds grew clearer, and suddenly
it came to me that it was the noise of a body being
dragged and the grunting breathing of a dog. I
called sharply to Jock and the sound stopped ; and
taking a few paces forward then, I saw him in a moonlit
space turning round and round on the pivot of his
hind-legs and swinging or dragging something much
bigger than himself.
Jim gave a yell and shot past me, plunging his
assegai into the object and shouting " Porcupine,
porcupine," at the top of his voice. We were all
round it in a couple of seconds, but I think the porcu-
pine was as good as dead even before Jim had stabbed
it. Jock was still holding on grimly, tugging with all
his might and always with the same movement of
254
" TUGGING WITH ALL HIS MIGHT"
swinging it round him, or, of himself circling round it —
perhaps that is the fairer description, for the porcupine
was much the heavier. He had it by the throat
where the flesh is bare of quills, and had kept himself _s
out of reach of the terrible spikes by pulling away "
all the time, just as he had done with the duiker
and other buck to avoid their hind-feet.
This encounter with the porcupine gave us a better
chance of getting the tiger than we ever expected —
too good a chance to be neglected ; so we cut the
animal up and used the worthless parts to bait the big
tiger-trap, having first dragged them across the veld
for a good distance each way to leave a blood spoor
which would lead the tiger up to the trap. This,
with the quantity of blood spread about in the fight,
lying right in the track of his usual prowling ought
to attract his attention, we thought ; and we fastened
the trap to a big tree, making an avenu« of bushes up
to the bait so that he would have to walk right over the
trap hidden under the dead leaves, in order to get at
the bait. We hoped that, if it failed to hold, it would
at least wound him badly enough to enable us to
follow him up in the morning.
In the bright light of the fire that night, as Jock
lay beside me having his share of the porcupine steaks,
I noticed something curious about his chest, and on
looking closer found the whole of his white 'shirt
front ' speckled with dots of blood ; he had been
pricked in dozens of places, and it was clear that it
had been no walk-over for him ; he must have had a
pretty rough handling before he got the porcupine
255
on the swing. He was none the worse, however, and
was the picture of contentment as he lay beside me
in the ring facing the fire.
But Jess was a puzzle. From the time that she
had come hobbling back to us, carrying her one foot
in the air and stopping to rub her mouth on her paws,
we had been trying to find out what was the matter.
The foot trouble was clear enough, for there was a
quill fifteen inches long and as stiff and thick as a lead
pencil still piercing the ball of her foot, with the needle-
like point sticking out between her toes. Fortunately
it had not been driven far through and the hole was
small, so that once it was drawn and the foot bandaged
she got along fairly well. It was not the foot that
was troubling her ; all through the evening she kept
repeating the movement of her head, either rubbing
it on her front legs or wiping her muzzle with the
paws, much as a cat does when washing its face. She
would not touch food and could not lie still for five
minutes ; and we could do nothing to help her.
No one had doubted Jess's courage, even when we
saw her come back alone : we knew there was some-
thing wrong, but in spite of every care and effort
we could not find out what it was, and poor old Jess
went through the night in suffering, making no
sound, but moving from place to place weary and
restless, giving long tired quivering sighs, and pawing
at her mouth from time to time. In the morning light
we again looked her all over carefully, and especially
opened her mouth and examined that and her nostrils,
but could find nothing to show what was wrong.
The puzzle was solved by accident : Ted was sitting
on the ground when she came up to him, looking
wistfully into his face again with one of the mute
appeals for help.
" What is it, Jess, old girl ? " he said, and reaching
out, he caught her head in both hands and drew her
towards him ; but with a sharp exclamation he instantly
257 R
let go again, pricked by something, and a drop of
blood oozed from one finger-tip. Under Jess's right
ear there was a hard sharp point just showing through
the skin : we all felt it, and when the skin was forced
back we saw it was the tip of a porcupine quill. There
was no pulling it out or moving it, however, nor could
we for a long time find where it had entered. At
last Ted noticed what looked like a tiny narrow strip
of bark adhering to the outside of her lower lip, and
this turned out to be the broken end of the quill,
snapped off close to the flesh ; not even the end of the
quill was visible — only the little strip that had peeled
off in the breaking.
Poor old Jess ! We had no very grand appliances
for surgery, and had to slit her lip down with an ordi-
nary skinning knife. Ted held her between his knees
and gripped her head with both hands, while one of us
pulled with steel pliers on the broken quill until it
came out. The quill had pierced her lower lip,
entered the gums beside the front teeth, run all along
the jaw and through the flesh behind, coming out just
below the ear. It was over seven inches long. She
struggled a little under the rough treatment, and there
was a protesting whimper when we tugged ; but she
did not let out one cry under all the pain.
We knew then that Jess had done her share in the
fight, and guessed that it v/as she who in her reckless
charge had rolled the porcupine over and given Jock
his chance.
The doctoring of Jess had delayed us considerably,
and while we were still busy at it the old chief came
258
up to say that his scouts had returned and reported that
there was no tiger to be seen, but that they thought the
trap had been sprung. They had not liked to go close up,
preferring to observe the spot from a tree some way off.
The first question was what to do with Jess. We
had no collar or chain, of course, and nothing would
induce her to stay behind once Ted started ; she
would have bitten through ropes and reims in a few
minutes, and no kaffir would have faced the job of
watching over and checking her. Finally we put her
into one of the reed and mud huts, closing the
entrance with some raw hides weighted with heavy
stones ; and off we went.
We found the trap sprung and the bait untouched.
The spoor was a tiger's, right enough, and we saw
where it had circled suspiciously all round before
finally entering the little fenced approach which we
had built to shepherd it on to the trap. There each
footprint was clear, and it appeared that instead of
cautiously creeping right up to the bait and stepping
on the setting-plate, it had made a pounce at the
bait from about ten feet away, releasing the trap by
knocking the spring or by touching the plate with the
barrel of its body. The tiger had evidently been
nipped, but the body was too big for the teeth to close
on, and no doubt the spring it gave on feeling the
grip underneath set it free with nothing worse than
a bad scraping and a tremendous fright. There was
plenty of hair and some skin on the teeth of the trap,
but very little blood there, and none at all to be found
round about.
259
That was almost the worst result we could have
had : the tiger was not crippled, nor was it wounded
enough to enable us to track it, but must have been
thoroughly alarmed that it would certainly be
extremely nervous and suspicious of everything now,
and would probably avoid the neighbourhood for some
time to come.
The trap was clearly of no further use, but after
coming so far for the tiger we were not disposed to
give up the hunt without another effort. The natives
told us it was quite useless to follow it up as it was a
real ' schelm,' and by that time would be miles away
in some inaccessible krans. We determined however
to go on, and if we failed to get a trace of the tiger,
to put in the day hunting bushbuck or wild pig, both
of which were fairly plentiful.
We had not gone more than a few hundred yards
when an exclamation from one of the boys made us
look round, and we saw Jess on the opposite slope
coming along full speed after us with her nose to the
trail. She had scratched and bitten her way through
the reed and mud wall of the hut, scared the wits out
of a couple of boys who had tried to head her off, and
raced away after us with a pack of kaffir mongrels
yelping unnoticed at her heels. She really did not seem
much the worse for her wounds, and was — for her —
quite demonstrative in her delight at finding us again.
In any case there was nothing to be done but to
let her come, and we went on once more beating up
towards the lair in the black krans with the two dogs
in the lead.
260
The guides led us down into the bed of one of the
mountain streams, and following this up we were
soon in the woods where the big trees meeting overhead
made it dark and cool. It was difficult in that light
to see anything clearly at first, and the considerable
undergrowth of shrub and creepers and the boulders
shed from the Berg added to the difficulty and made
progress slow. We moved along as much as possible
abreast, five or six yards apart, but were often driven
by obstacles into the bed of the stream for short
distances in order to make headway at all, and although
there did not seem to be much chance of finding the
tiger at home, we crept along cautiously and noiselessly,
talking — when we had to — only in whispers.
We were bunched together, preparing to crawl along
a rock overhanging a little pool, when the boy in front
made a sign and pointed with his assegai to the dogs.
They had crossed the stream and were walking — very
slowly and abreast — near the water's edge. The
rawest of beginners would have needed no explanation.
The two stood for a few seconds sniffing at a particular
spot and then both together looked steadily up-
stream : there was another pause and they moved very
slowly and carefully forward a yard or so and sniffed
again with their noses almost touching. As they did
this the hair on their backs and shoulders began to
rise until, as they reached the head of the pool, they
were bristling like hedgehogs and giving little purring
growls.
The guide went over to them while we waited,
afraid to move lest the noise of our boots on the stones
261
Hi I. !i JJL, .
H'
should betray us. After looking round for a bit he
pointed to a spot on the bank where he had found the
fresh spoor of the tiger, and picking up something
there to show to us he came back to our side. It was
a little fragment of whitish skin with white hairs on
it. There was no doubt about it then : we were on
the fresh spoor of the tiger where it had stopped to
drink at the pool and probably to lick the scratches
made by the trap ; and leaving the bed of the stream
it had gone through the thick undergrowth up towards
the krans.
We were not more than a hundred yards from the
krans then, and the track taken by the tiger was not
at all an inviting one. It was at first merely a narrow
tunnel in the undergrowth up the steep hillside,
through which we crept in single file with the two
dogs a few yards in front ; they moved on in the
same silent deliberate way, so intent and strung up that
they started slightly and instantly looked up in front
at the least sound. As the ascent became steeper
and more rocky, the undergrowth thinned and we
were able to spread out into line once more, threading
our way through several roughly-parallel game tracks
or natural openings and stooping low to watch the
dogs and take our cue from them.
We were about fifteen yards from the precipitous
face of the krans, and had just worked round a huge
boulder into a space fairly free of bush but cumbered
with many big rocks and loose stones, when the dogs
stopped and stood quivering and bristling all over,
moving their heads slowly about with noses well
262
raised and sniffing persistently. There was s
now that interested them more than the spoor : they
winded the tiger itself, but could not tell where. No
one stirred : we stood watching the dogs and snatching
glances right and left among the boulders and their
shady creeper-hidden caves and recesses, and as we
stood thus, grouped together in breathless silence,
an electrifying snarling roar came from the krans
above and the spotted body of the tiger shot like a
streak out of the black mouth of a cave and across
our front into the bush ; there was a series of crashing
bounds, as though a stone rolled from the mountain
were leaping through the jungle ; and then absolute
silence.
We explored the den ; but there was nothing of
interest in it — no remains of food, no old bones, or
other signs of cubs. It seemed to be the retreat of
a male tiger — secluded, quiet, and cool. The opening
was not visible from any distance, a split-off slab of
rock partly hiding it ; but when we stood upon the
rock platform we found that almost the whole of the
horseshoe bay in the Berg into which we had de-
scended was visible, and it was with a " Wow ! " of
surprise and mortification that the kraal boys found
they could see the kraal itself and their goats and cattle
grazing on the slopes and in the valley below.
Tigers do not take their kill to their dens unless |||
there are young cubs to be fed ; as a rule they feed
where they kill, or as near to it as safety permits, jM';~~!
and when they have fed their fill they carry
off the remainder of the carcase
26« ^fffF
and hide it. X Lions, hyenas, and others leave what
they cannot eat and return to it for their next
d. ; but tigers are more provident and more
ning, and — being able to climb trees — they
|are very much more difficult to follow or waylay
by means of their kill. They are not big fellows,
rarely exceeding seven feet from nose to tip of tail
and 130 Ib. in weight ; but they are extraordinarily
active and strong, and it is difficult to believe until
one has seen the proof of it that they are able to climb
the bare trunk of a tree carrying a kill much bigger
and heavier than themselves, and hang it safely wedged
in some hidden fork out of reach of any other animal.
I have repeatedly seen the remains of their victims
in the forks of trees ; once it was part of a pig, but on
the other occasions the remains were of horned animals;
the pig was balanced in the fork ; the others were
hooked in by the heads and horns.
A well-known hunter once told me an experience of
his illustrating the strength and habits of tigers. He
had shot a young giraffe and carried off as much as he
could put on his horse, and hid the rest ; but when
he returned next morning it had disappeared, and the
spoor of a full-grown tiger told him why. He
followed the drag mark up to the foot of a big tree
and found the remains of the carcase, fully 300 Ib.
in weight, in a fork more than twenty feet from the
ground.
He left it there as a bait and returned again the
following morning on the chance of a shot ; but the
meat had once more been removed and on following
264
up the spoor lie found what was left hidden in another
tree some two hundred yards away.
It would have been waste of time to follow our
tiger — he would be on the watch and on the move
for hours ; so we gave it up at once, and struck across
the spurs for another part of the big arena where pig
and bushbuck were known to feed in the mornings.
It was slow and difficult work, as the bush was very
dense and the ground rough. The place was riddled
with game tracks, and we saw spoor of koodoo and
eland several times, and tracks innumerable of wild
pig, rietbuck, bushbuck, and duiker. But there was
more than spoor : a dozen times we heard the crash
of startled animals through the reeds or bush only a
few yards away without being able to see a thing.
We had nearly reached the kloof we were aiming
for when we had the good luck to get a bushbuck in
a very unexpected way. We had worked our way
out of a particularly dense patch of bush and brambles
into a corner of the woods and were resting on the
mossy ground in the shade of the big trees when the
sound of clattering stones a good way off made us
start up again and grab our rifles ; and presently
we saw, outlined against the band of light which marked
the edge of the timber, a buck charging down towards
us. Three of us fired together, and the buck rolled
over within a few yards of where we stood.
We were then in a ' dead end ' up against the
precipitous face of the Berg where there was no road
or path other than game tracks, and where no human
being ever went except for the purpose of hunting.
265
We knew there was no one else shooting there, and it
puzzled us considerably to think what had scared the
bushbuck ; for the animal had certainly been startled
and perhaps chased ; the pace, the noise it made, and
the blind recklessness of its dash, all showed that.
The only explanation we could think of was that the
tiger, in making a circuit along the slopes of the Berg
to get away from us, must have put the buck up and
driven it down on to us in the woods below, and if
that were so, the reports of our rifles must have made
him think that he was never going to get rid of us.
We skinned and cut up the buck and pushed on
again ; but the roughness of the trail and the various
stoppages had delayed us greatly, and we failed to get
the expected bag. We got one rietbuck and a young
boar ; the rietbuck was a dead shot ; but the pig,
from the shooting standpoint, v/as a most humiliating
failure. A troop of twenty or thirty started up from
under our feet as we came out of the blazing sunlight
into the gloom of the woods, and no one could see
well enough to aim. They were led by a grand boar,
and the whole lot looked like a troop of charging
lions as they raced by with their bristly manes erect
and their tufted tails standing straight up.
As we stood there, crestfallen and disgusted, we heard
fresh grunting behind, and turning round we saw
one pig racing past in the open, having apparently
missed the troop while wallowing in a mudhole and
known nothing of our intrusion until he heard the
shooting. We gave him a regular broadside, and —
as is usually the case when you think that quantity
266
will do in place of quality — made an awful mess of
it, and before we had time to reload Jess and Jock
had cut in, and we could not fire again for fear of
hitting them. The boys, wildly delighted by this
irregular development which gave them such a chance,
joined in the chase and in a few seconds it became a |
chaotic romp like a rat hunt in a schoolroom. The
dogs ranged up on each side and were on to the pig
together, Jess hanging on to one ear and Jock at the
neck ; the boar dug right and left at them, but his
tusks were short and blunt, and if he managed to get
at them at all they bore no mark of it afterwards.
For about twenty yards they dragged and tugged,
and then all three came somersaulting over together.
In the scramble Jock got his grip on the throat, and
Jess — rolled and trampled on — appeared between
the pig's hind-legs, sliding on her back with her teeth
embedded in one of the hams. For half a minute
the boar, grunting and snorting, plunged about madly,
trying to get at them or to free himself ; and then the
boys caught up and riddled him with their assegais.
After the two bombardments of the pigs and the
fearful row made by the boys there was not much
chance of putting up anything more, and we made
for the nearest stream in the woods for a feed and a
rest before returning to camp.
We had failed to get the tiger, it is true, and it
would be useless giving more time or further thought
to him, for in all probability it would be a week or
more before he returned to his old hunting-ground
and his old marauding tricks, but the porcupine and
267
the pig had provided more interest and amusement
than much bigger game might have done, and on the
whole, although disappointed, we were not dissatisfied :
in fact, it would have needed an ungrateful spirit
indeed to feel discontented in such surroundings.
Big trees of many kinds and shapes united to make
a canopy of leaves overhead through which only occa-
sional shafts of sunlight struck. The cold mountain
stream tumbling over ledges, swirling among rocks
or rippling over pebble-strewn reaches, gurgled,
splashed and bubbled with that wonderful medley of
sounds that go to make the lullaby of the brook. The
floor of the forest was carpeted with a pile of staghorn
moss a foot thick, and maidenhair fern grew every-
where with the luxuriant profusion of weeds in a
tropical garden. Traveller's Joy covered whole trees
with dense creamy bloom and spread its fragrance
everywhere ; wild clematis trailed over stumps and
fallen branches ; quantities of maidenhair over-
flowed the banks and drooped to the water all along
the course of the stream ; whilst, marshalled on
either side, huddled together on little islands, perched
on rocks, and grouped on overhanging ledges, stood
the tree-ferns — as though they had come to drink —
their wide-reaching delicate fronds like giant green
ostrich-feathers waving gently to each breath of air
or quivering as the movement of the water shook the
trunks.
Long-tailed greeny-gray monkeys with black faces
peered down at us, moving lightly on their branch
trapezes, and pulled faces or chattered their indignant
268
protest against intrusion ; in the tops of the wild fig-
trees bright green pigeons watched us shyly — great big
birds of a wonderful green ; gorgeous louries too
flashed their colours and raised their crests — pictures
of extreme and comical surprise ; golden cuckoos
there were also and beautiful little green-backed ruby-
throated honey-suckers, flitted like butterflies among
the flowers on the sunlit fringe of the woods.
Now and again guinea-fowl and bush-pheasant
craned their necks over some fallen log or stone to
peer curiously at us, then stooping low again darted
along their well-worn runs into the thick bush. The
place was in fact a natural preserve ; a * bay ' let into
the wall of the Berg, half-encircled by cliffs which
nothing could climb, a little world where the common
enemy — man — seldom indeed intruded.
We stayed there until the afternoon sun had passed
behind the crest of the Berg above us ; and, instead
of going back the way we came, skirted along the other
arm enclosing the bay to have the cool shade of the
mountain with us on our return journey. But the
way was rough ; the jungle was den^e ; we were hot
and torn and tired ; and the shadow of the mountain
stretched far out across the foothills by the time the
corner was reached. We sat down to rest at last in
the open on the long spur on which, a couple of miles
away, the slanting sun picked out the red and black
cattle, the white goats, and the brown huts of the
kaffir kraal.
Our route lay along the side of the spur, skirting
the rocky backbone and winding between occasional
269
boulders, clumps of trees and bush, and we had moved
on only a little way when a loud " Waugh " from a
baboon on the mountain behind made us stop to look
back. The hoarse shout was repeated several times,
and each time more loudly and emphatically ; it
seemed like the warning call of a sentry who had seen
us. Moved by curiosity we turned aside on to the
ridge itself, and from the top of a big rock scanned
the almost precipitous face opposite. The spur on
which we stood was divided from the Berg itself only
by a deep but narrow kloof or ravine, and every detail
of the mountain side stood out in the clear evening
air, but against the many-coloured rocks the grey
figure of a baboon was not easy to find as long as it
remained still, and although from time to time the
barking roar was repeated, we were still scanning the
opposite hill when one of the boys pointed down the
slope immediately below us and called out, " There,
there, Baas ! "
The troop of baboons had evidently been quite
close to us — hidden from us only by the little line of
rocks — and on getting warning from their sentry on
the mountain had stolen quietly away and were then
disappearing into the timbered depth of the ravine.
We sat still to watch them come out on the opposite
side a few minutes later and clamber up the rocky
face, for they are always worth watching ; but while
we watched, the stillness was broken by an agonised
scream — horribly human in its expression of terror —
followed by roars, barks, bellows and screams from
.scores of voices in every key ; and the crackle of break-
270
ing sticks and the rattle of stones added to the medley
of sound as the baboons raced out of the wood and up
the bare rocky slope.
" What is it ? " " What's the matter ? " " There's
something after them." " Look, look ! there they
come " : burst from one and another of us as we
watched the extraordinary scene. The cries from
below seemed to waken the whole mountain ; great
booming " waughs " came from different places far
apart and ever so high up the face of the Berg ; each
big roar seemed to act like a trumpet-call and bring
forth a multitude of others ; and the air rang with
bewildering shouts and echoes volleying round the
kloofs and faces of the Berg. The strange thing was
that the baboons did not continue their terrified
scramble up the mountain, but, once out of the bush,
they turned and rallied. Forming an irregular semi-
circle they faced down hill, thrusting their heads
forward with sudden jerks as though to launch their
cries with greater vehemence, and feinting to charge ;
they showered loose earth, stones and debris of all sorts
down with awkward underhand scrapes of their fore-
paws, and gradually but surely descended to within
a dozen yards of the bush's edge.
" Baas, Baas, the tiger ! Look, the tiger ! There,
there on the rock below ! "
Jim shot the words out in vehement gusts, choky
with excitement ; and true enough, there the tiger
was. The long spotted body was crouched on a flat
rock just below the baboons; he was broad-side to . ,,
us, with his fore-quarters slightlyraised and his face "l!
271
turned towards the baboons ; with wide-opened mouth
he snarled savagely at the advancing line, and with
right paw raised made threatening dabs in their
direction. His left paw pinned down the body of a
baboon.
The voices from the mountain boomed louder and
nearer as, clattering and scrambling down the face,
came more and more baboons : there must have been
hundreds of them ; the semicircle grew thicker and
blacker, more and more threatening, foot by foot
closer. The tiger raised himself a little more and
took swift looks from side to side across the advancing
front, and then his nerve went, and with one spring
he shot from the rock into the bush.
There was an instant forward rush of the half-moon,
and the rock was covered with roaring baboons,
swarming over their rescued comrade ; and a moment
later the crowd scrambled up the slope again, taking
the tiger's victim with them. In that seething rabble
I could pick out nothing, but all the kaffirs maintained
they could see the mauled one dragged along by its
arms by two others, much as a child might be helped
uphill.
We were still looking excitedly about — trying to
make out what the baboons were doing, watching the
others still coming down the Berg, and peering
anxiously for a sight of the tiger — when once more
Jim's voice gave us a shock.
" Where are the dogs ? " he asked ; and the ques-
tion turned us cold. If they had gone after the baboons
they were as good as dead already — nothing could save
272
" SCRAMBLTNG DOWN THE FACE CAME MORE AND MORE BABOONS "
them. Calling was useless : nothing could be heard
in the roar and din that the enraged animals still kept
up. We watched the other side of the ravine with-
something more than anxiety, and when Jock's reddish-
looking form broke through the bracken near to the
tiger's rock, I felt like shutting my eyes till all was over.
We saw him move close under the rock and then
disappear. We watched for some seconds — it may
have been a minute, but it seemed an eternity — and
then, feeling the utter futility of waiting there,
jumped off the rock and ran down .the slope in the
hope that the dogs would hear us call from there.
From where the slope was steepest we looked down
into the bed of the stream at the bottom of the ravine,
and the two dogs were there : they were moving
cautiously down the wide stony watercourse just as
we had seen them move in the morning, their noses
thrown up and heads turning slowly from side to side.
We knew what was coming ; there was no time to
reach them through the bush below ; the cries of
the baboons made calling useless ; and the three of us
sat down with rifles levelled ready to fire at the first
sight. With gun gripped and breath hard held,
watching intently every bush and tree and rock,
every spot of light and shade, we sat — not daring to
move. Then, over the edge of a big rock overlook-
ing the two dogs, appeared something round ; and,
smoothly yet swiftly and with a snake-like movement,
the long spotted body followed the head and, flattened
against the rock, crept stealthily forward until the tiger
looked straight down upon Jess and Jock.
273 s
The three rifles cracked like one, and with a howl
of rage and pain the tiger shot out over the dogs'
heads, raced along the stony bed, and suddenly-
plunging its nose into the ground, pitched over —
dead.
It was shot through the heart, and down the
ribs on each side were the scraped marks of the
trap.
I'.. 'I'll. '.Ijll
THE summer slipped away — the full-pulsed ripeness!
of the year ; beauty and passion ; sunshine and storm ; |
long spells of peace and gentleness, of springing life |
and radiant glory; short intervals of reckless tempest j\
and destructive storm! Among the massed evergreens ( '
of the woods there stood out here and there bright
spots of colour, the careless dabs from Nature's artist
hand ; yellow and brown, orange and crimson, all vividly
distinct, yet all in perfect harmony. The rivers, fed
from the replenished mountains' stores, ran full but
clear ; the days were bright ; the nights were cold ; the
grass was rank and seeding ; and it was time to go.
Once more the Bushveld beckoned us away.
We picked a spot where grass and water were good,
and waited for the rivers to fall ; and it was while
loitering there that a small hunting party from the
fields making for the Sabi came across us and camped
for the night. In the morning two of our party
joined them for a few days to try for something big.
275
It was too early in the season for really good
sport. The rank tropical grass — six to eight feet
high in most places, twelve to fourteen in some —
was too green to burn yet, and the stout stems
and heavy seed heads made walking as difficult as in a
field of tangled sugar cane ; for long stretches it was
not possible to see five yards, 'and the dew in the early
mornings was so heavy that after a hundred yards
of such going one was drenched to the skin.
We were forced into the more open parts — the
higher, stonier, more barren ground where just then
the bigger game was by no means plentiful.
On the third day two of us started out to try a new
quarter in the hilly country rising towards the Berg.
My companion, Francis, was an experienced hunter
and his idea was that we should find the big game,
not on the hot humid flats or the stony rises, but still
higher up on the breezy hill tops or in the cool shady
kloofs running towards the mountains. We passed
a quantity of : mailer game that morning, and several
times heard the stampede of big animals — wildebeeste
and waterbuck, as we found by the spoor — but it was
absolutely impossible to see them. The dew was so
heavy that even our hats were soaking wet, and times
out of number we had to stop to wipe the water out
of our eyes in order to see our way ; a complete duck-
ing would not have made the least difference.
Jock fared better than we did, finding openings
and game tracks at his own level, which were of no
use to us ; he also knew better than we did what was
going on ahead, and it was tantalising in the extreme to
276
see him slow down and stand with his nose thrown
up, giving quick soft sniffs and ranging his head from
side to side, when he knew there was something quite
close, and knew too that a few more toiling steps in
that rank grass would be followed by a rush of some-
thing which we would never see.
Once we heard a foot stamp not twenty yards off,
and stood for a couple of minutes on tip-toe trying to
pierce the screen of grass in front, absolutely certain
that eyes and ears were turned on us in death-like
silence waiting for the last little proof of the intruder
that would satisfy their owners and start them off
before we could get a glimpse. The silence must have
made them suspicious, for at some signal unknown
to us the troop broke away and we had the mortifica-
tion to see something, which we had ignored as a branch,
tilt slowly back and disappear : there was no mistaking
the koodoo bull's horns once they moved !
After two hours of this we struck a stream, and
there we made somewhat better pace and less noise,
often taking to the bed of the creek for easier going.
There, too, we found plenty of drinking places and
plenty of fresh spoor of the bigger game, and as the
hills began to rise in view above the bush and trees,
we found what Francis was looking for. Something
caught his eye on the far side of the stream, and he
waded in. I followed and when half way through
saw the contented look on his face and caught his
words : " Buffalo ! I thought so ! "
We sat down then to think it out. The spoor told
of a troop of a dozen to sixteen animals — bulls, cows,
277
and calves ; and it was that morning's spoor : even
in the soft moist ground at the stream's edge the water
had not yet oozed into most of the prints. Fortu-
nately there was a light breeze from the hills, and
as it seemed probable that in any case they would make
that way for the hot part of the day we decided to
follow for some distance on the track and then make
for the likeliest poort in the hills.
The buffalo had come up from the low country
in the night on a course striking the creek diagonally
in the drinking place ; their departing spoor went off
at a slight tangent from the stream — the two trails
making a very wide angle at the drinking place and
confirming the idea that after their night's feed in the
rich grass lower down they were making for the hills
again in the morning and had touched at the stream
to drink.
Jock seemed to gather from our whispered conversa-
tion and silent movements that there was work to
hand, and his eyes moved from one face to the other as
we talked, much as a child watches the faces in a con-
versation it cannot quite follow. When we got up
and began to move along the trail, he gave one of his
little sideways bounds, as if he half thought of throw-
ing a somersault and restrained himself ; and then
with several approving waggings of his tail settled
down at once to business.
Jock went in front : it was best so, and quite safe,
for, whilst certain to spot anything long before we
could, there was not the least risk of his rushing it or
making any noise. The slightest whisper of a " Hst "
278
from me would have brought him to a
breathless standstill at any moment ; but
even this was not likely to be needed, for
he kept as close a watch on my face as I did on him. |j|
There was, of course, no difficulty whatever in
following the spoor ; the animals were as big as cattle,
and their trail through the rank grass was as plain as
a road : our difficulty was to get near enough to see
them without being heard. Under the down-trodden
grass there were plenty of dry sticks to step on, any
of which would have been as fatal to our chances as
a pistol shot, and even the unavoidable rustle of the
grass might betray us while the buffalo themselves
remained hidden. Thus our progress was very slow,
a particularly troublesome impediment being the grass
stems thrown down across the trail by the animals
crossing and re-crossing each others' spoor and stopping
to crop a mouthful here and there or perhaps to play.
The tambookie grass in these parts has a stem thicker
than a lead pencil, more like young bamboo than grass ;
and these stems thrown cross-ways by storms or game
make an entanglement through which the foot cannot
be forced : it means high stepping all the time.
We expected to follow the spoor for several miles
before coming on the buffalo — probably right into
the kloof towards which it appeared to lead — but
were, nevertheless, quite prepared to drop on to them
at any moment, knowing well how game will loiter
on their way when undisturbed and vary their time
and course, instinctively avoiding the too regular
habits which would make them an easy prey.
279
Jock moved steadily along the trodden track, sliding
easily through, the grass or jumping softly and noise-
lessly over impediments, and we followed, looking
ahead as far as the winding course of the trail per-
jmitted.
To right and left of us stood the screen of tall grass,
bush and trees. Once Jock stopped, throwing up his
nose, and stood for some seconds while we held our
breath ; but having satisfied himself that there was
nothing of immediate consequence, he moved on again
— rather more slowly, as it appeared to us. I looked
at Francis's face ; it was pale and set like marble, and
his watchful grey eyes were large and wide like an
antelope's, as though opened out to take in everything ;
and those moments of intense interest and expectation
were the best part of a memorable day.
There was something near : we felt it ! Jock was
going more carefully than ever, with his head up most
of the time ; and the feeling of expectation grew
stronger and stronger until it amounted to absolute
certainty. Then Jock stopped, stopped in mid-
stride, not with his nose up ranging for scent, but with
head erect, ears cocked, and tail poised — dead still :
he was looking at something.
We had reached the end of the grass where the bush
and trees of the mountain slope had choked it out, and
before us there was fairly thick bush mottled with
black shadows and patches of bright sunlight in which
it was most difficult to see anything. There we stood
like statues, the dog in front with the two men abreast
behind him, and all peering intently. Twice Jock
280
slowly turned his head and looked into my eyes,
and I felt keenly the sense of hopeless inferiority.
" There it is, what are you going to do ? " was
what the first look seemed to say ; and the second :
" Well, what are you waiting for ? "
How long we stood thus it is not possible to say :
time is no measure of such things, and to me it seemed
unending suspense ; but we stood our ground scarcely
breathing, knowing that something was there, because
he saw it and told us so, and knowing that as soon as
we moved it would be gone. Then close to the ground
there was a movement — something swung, and the
full picture flashed upon us. It was a buffalo calf
standing in the shade of a big bush with its back towards
us, and it was the swishing of the tail that had betrayed
it. We dared not breathe a word or pass a look —
a face turned might have caught some glint of light
and shown us up ; so we stood like statues each know-
ing that the other was looking for the herd and would
fire when he got a chance at one of the full-grown
animals.
My eyes were strained and burning from the in-
tensity of the effort to see ; but except the calf I
could not make out a living thing : the glare of the
yellow grass in which we stood, and the sun-splotched
darkness beyond it beat me.
At last, in the corner of my eye, I saw Francis's v
rifle rise, as slowly — almost — as the mercury in
a warmed thermometer. There was a long pause, If/
and then came the shot and wild snorts of alarm if
and rage. A dozen huge black forms started
281
into life for a second and as quickly vanished
— scattering and crashing through the jungle.
The first clear impression was that of Jock,
who after one swift run forward for a few yards stood
ready to spring off in pursuit, looking back at me and
waiting for the word to go ; but at the sign of my
raised hand, opened with palm towards him, he sub-
sided slowly and lay down flat with his head resting
on his paws.
" Did you see ? " asked Francis.
" Not till you fired. I heard it strike. What was it ? "
" Hanged if I know ! I heard it too. It was one
of the big uns ; but bull or cow I don't know."
" Where did you get it ? "
" Well, I couldn't make out more than a black patch
in the bush. It moved once, but I couldn't see how
it was standing — end on or across. It may be hit
anywhere. I took for the middle of the patch and let
drive. Bit risky, eh ? "
" Seems like taking chances."
" Well, it was no use waiting : we came for this ! "
and then he added with a careless laugh, " They always
clear from the first shot if you get 'em at close quarters,
but the fun'll begin now. Expect he'll lay for us in
the track somewhere."
That is the way of the wounded buffalo — we all
knew that ; and old Rocky's advice came to mind
with a good deal of point : " Keep cool and shoot
straight — or stay right home " ; and Jock's expectant
watchful look smote me with another memory — " It
was my davvg ! "
282
A few yards from where -the buffalo had stood we
picked up the blood spoor. There was not very much
of it, but we saw from the marks on the bushes here
and there, and more distinctly on some grass further
on, that the wound was pretty high up and on the
right side. Crossing a small stretch of more open bush
we reached the dense growth along the banks of the
stream, and as this continued up into the kloof it was
clear we had a tough job before us.
Animals when badly wounded nearly always leave
the herd, and very often go down wind so as to be ^
able to scent and avoid their pursuers. This fellow
had followed the herd up wind, and that rather puzzled
us.
A wounded buffalo in thick bush is considered to
be about as nasty a customer as any one may desire
to tackle ; for, its vindictive indomitable courage and
extraordinary cunning are a very formidable combina-
tion, as a long list of fatalities bears witness. Its
favourite device — so old hunters will tell you — is to
make off down wind when hit, and after going for some
distance, come back again in a semi-circle to intersect
its own spoor, and there under good cover lie in wait
for those who may follow up.
This makes the sport quite as interesting as need
be, for the chances are more nearly even than they
generally are in hunting. The buffalo chooses the
ground that suits its purpose of ambushing its enemy,
and naturally selects a spot where concealment is
possible ; but, making every allowance for this, it
seems little short of a miracle that the huge black
283
beast is able to hide itself so effectually that it can
charge from a distance of a dozen yards on to those
who are searching for it.
The secret of it seems to lie in two things : first,
absolute stillness ; and second, breaking up the colour.
No wild animal, except those protected by distance
and open country, will stand against a background of
light or of uniform colour, nor will it as a rule allow
its own shape to form an unbroken patch against its
chosen background.
They work on Nature's lines. Look at the ostrich —
the cock, black and handsome, so strikingly different
from the commonplace grey hen ! Considering that
for periods of six weeks at a stretch they are anchored
to one spot hatching the eggs, turn and turn about,
it seems that one or other must be an easy victim for
the beast of prey, since the same background cannot
possibly suit both. But they know that too ; so the
grey hen sits by day, and the black cock by night !
And the ostrich is not the fool it is thought to be
— burying its head in the sand ! Knowing how the
long stem of a neck will catch the eye, it lays it flat
on the ground, as other birds do, when danger threatens
the nest or brood, and concealment is better than
flight. That tame chicks will do this in a bare pad-
dock is only a laughable assertion of instinct.
Look at the zebra ! There is nothing more striking,
nothing that arrests the eye more sharply — in the
Zoo — than this vivid contrast of colour ; yet in the
bush the wavy stripes of black and white, are a protec-
tion, enabling him to hide at will.
284
I have seen a wildebeeste effectually hidden by a
single blighted branch; a koodoo bull, by a few twisty
sticks ; a crouching lion, by a wisp of feathery grass
no higher than one's knee, no bigger than a vase of
flowers ! Yet, the marvel of it is always fresh.
After a couple of hundred yards of that sort of
going, we changed our plan, taking to the creek again
and making occasional cross-cuts to the trail, to be
sure he was still ahead. It was certain then that
the buffalo was following the herd and making for i
the poort, and as hejhad not stopped once on our
account we took to the creek after the fourth cross-
cut and made what pace we could to reach the narrow
gorge where we reckoned to pick up the spoor again.
There are, however, few short cuts — and no certain-
ties— in hunting ; when we reached the poort there
was no trace to be found of the wounded buffalo ;
the rest of the herd had passed in, but we failed to
find blood or other trace of the wounded one, and
Jock was clearly as much at fault as we were.
We had overshot the mark and there was nothing
for it but to hark back to the last blood spoor and, ,
by following it up, find out what had happened.
This took over an hour, for we spoored him then I
with the utmost caution, being convinced that
the buffalo, if not dead, was badly wounded and
lying in wait for us.
We came on his 'stand, 'in a well-chosen spot, where
the game path took a sharp turn round some heavy
bushes. The buffalo had stood, not where one would
naturally expect it — in the dense cover which seemed
285
just suited for his purpose — but among lighter
bush on the opposite side and about twenty
yards nearer to us. There was no room for
doubt about his hostile intentions ; and when we re-
called how we had instantly picked out the thick bush
on the left — to the exclusion of everything else — as
the spot to be watched, his selection of more open
ground on the other side, and nearer to us, seemed
so fiendishly clever that it made one feel cold and creepy.
One hesitates to say it was deliberately planned ; yet
— plan, instinct or accident — there was the fact.
The marks showed us he was badly hit ; but there
was no limb broken, and no doubt he was good for
some hours yet. We followed along the spoor, more
cautiously than ever ; and when we reached the sharp
turn beyond the thick bush we found that the path was
only a few yards from the stream, so that on our way up
the bed of the creek we had passed within twenty yards
of where the buffalo was waiting for us. No doubt he
had heard us then as we walked past, and had winded us
later on when we got ahead of him into the poort.
What had he made of it ? What had he
done ? Had he followed up to attack us ? Was
he waiting somewhere near ? Or had he broken
away into the bush on finding himself headed off ?
These were some of the questions we asked our-
selves as we crept along.
Well ! what he had done did not answer our ques-
tions. On reaching the poort again we found his spoor,
freshly made since we had been there, and he had walked
right along through the gorge without stopping again,
286
and gone into the kloof beyond. Whether he
had followed us up when we got ahead of him
— hoping to stalk us from behind ; or had
gone ahead, expecting to meet us coming down wind „,/,,„
to look for him ; or, when he heard us pass down wM
i • i i 11- "Mi
stream again — and, it may be, thought we had given
up pursuit — had simply walked on after the herd,
were questions never answered.
A breeze had risen since morning, and as we ap-
proached the hills it grew stronger : in the poort itself
it was far too strong for our purpose — the wind coming
through the narrow opening like a forced draught.
The herd would not stand there, and it was not prob-
able that the wounded animal would stop until he
joined the others or reached a more sheltered place.
We were keen on the chase, and as he had about an
hour's start of us and it was already midday, there was
no time to waste.
Inside the poort the kloof opened out into a big
valley away to our left — our left being the right bank
of the stream — and bordering the valley on that side
there were many miles of timbered kloofs and green
slopes, with a few kaffir kraals visible in the distance ;
but to the right the formation was quite different,
and rather peculiar. The stream — known to the
natives as Hlamba-Nyati, or Buffalo's Bathing Place
— had in the course of time shortened its course to
the poort by eating into the left bank, thus leaving a
high, and in most places, inaccessible terrace above
it on the left side and a wide stretch of flat alluvium
on the right. This terrace was bounded on one side
287
by the steep bank of the creek and walled in on the
other side by the precipitous kranses of the mountains.
At the top end it opened out like a fan which died
away in a frayed edge in the numberless small kloofs
and spurs fringing the amphitheatre of the hills. The
shape was in fact something like the human arm and
hand with the fingers outspread. The elbow was the
poort, the arm trie terrace — except that the terrace
was irregularly curved — and the fingers the small kloofs
in the mountains. No doubt the haunts of the buffalo
were away in the ' fingers,' and we worked steadily
along the spoor in that direction.
Game paths were numerous and very irregular, and
the place was a perfect jungle of trees, bush, bramble
and the tallest rankest grass. I have ridden in that
valley many times since then through grass standing
several feet above my head. It was desperately hard
work, but we did want to get the buffalo ; and
although the place was full of game and we put up
koodoo, wildebeeste, rietbuck, bushbuck, and duiker,
we held to the wounded buffalo's spoor, neglecting all
else.
Just before ascending the terrace we had heard the
curious far-travelling sound of kaffirs calling to each
other from a distance, but, except for a passing com-
ment, paid no heed to it and passed on ; later we heard it
again and again, and at last, when we happened to pause
in a more open portion of the bush after we had gone
half way along the terrace, the calling became so
''s frequent and came from so manyquarters thatwe
-, stopped to take note. Francis,whospokeZululike
288
one of themselves, at last made out a word or two
which gave the clue.
" They're after the wounded buffalo ! " he said.
" Come on, man, before they get their dogs, or we'll
never see him again."
Knowing then that the buffalo was a long way ahead,
we scrambled on as fast as we could whilst holding to
his track ; but it was very hot and very rough and, to
add to our troubles, smoke from a grass fire came
driving into our faces.
"Niggers burning on the slopes ; confound them ! "
Francis growled.
They habitually fire the grass in patches during the
summer and autumn, as soon as it is dry enough to
burn, in order to get young grass for the winter or the
early spring, and although the smoke worried us there
did not seem to be anything unusual about the fire. But
ten minutes later we stopped again ; the smoke was per-
ceptibly thicker ; birds were flying past us down wind,
with numbers of locusts and other insects ; two or three
times we heard buck and other animals break back ; and
all were going the same way. Then the same thought
struck us both — it was stamped in our faces : this was
no ordinary mountain grass fire ; it was the bush.
Francis was a quiet fellow, one of the sort it is well
not to rouse. His grave is in the Bushveld where his
unbeaten record among intrepid lion-hunters was
made, and where he fell in the war, leaving another
and greater record to his name. The blood rose
slowly to his face, until it was bricky red, and he looked
an ugly customer as he said :
280 T
" The black brutes have fired the valley
to burn him out. Come on quick. We
must get out of this on to the slopes ! "
We did not know then that there were no slopes
— only a precipitous face of rock with dense jungle
to the foot of it ; and after we had spent a quarter of
an hour in that effort, we found our way blocked
by the krans and a tangle of undergrowth much
worse than that in the middle of the terrace. The noise
made by the wind in the trees and our struggling
through the grass and bush had prevented our hearing
the fire at first, but now its ever growing roar drowned
all sounds. Ordinarily, there would have been no
real difficulty in avoiding a bush fire ; but, pinned in
between the river and the precipice and with miles of
dense bush behind us, it was not at all pleasant.
Had we turned back even then and made for the
poort it is possible we might have travelled faster than
the fire, but it would have been rough work indeed ;
moreover, that would have been going back — and we
did want to get the buffalo — so we decided to make
one more try, towards the river this time. It was
not much of a try, however, and we had gone no
further than the middle of the terrace again when
it became alarmingly clear that this fire meant
business.
The wind increased greatly, as it always does once
a bush fire gets a start ; the air was thick with smoke,
and full of flying things ; in the bush and grass about
us there was a constant scurrying ; the terror of
stampede was in the very atmosphere. A few words
290
of consultation decided us, and we started to burn a
patch for standing room and protection.
The hot sun and strong wind had long evaporated
all the dew and moisture from the grass, but the sap
was still up, and the fire — our fire — seemed cruelly-
long in catching on. With bunches of dry grass for
brands we started burns in twenty places over a length
of a hundred yards, and each little flame licked up,
spread a little, and then hesitated or died out : it
seemed as if ours would never take, while the other
came on with roars and leaps, sweeping clouds of sparks
and ash over us in the dense rolling mass of smoke.
At last a fierce rush of wind struck down on us,
and in a few seconds each little flame became a living
demon of destruction ; another minute, and the stretch
before us was a field of swaying flame. There was a
sudden roar and crackle, as of musketry, and the whole
mass seemed lifted into the air in one blazing sheet : it
simply leaped into life and swept everything before it.
When we opened our scorched eyes the ground
in front of us was all black, with only here and there
odd lights and torches dotted about — like tapers on
a pall ; and on ahead, beyond the trellis work of bare
scorched trees, the wall of flame swept on.
Then down on the wings of the wind came the other „
fire ; and before it fled every living thing. Heaven rj
only knows what passed us in those few minutes wheniji
a broken stream of terrified creatures dashed by,j>|
hardly swerving to avoid us. There is no coherent
picture left of that scene — just a medley of impres-|
sions linked up by flashes of unforgettable vividness. \
291
A herd of koodoo came crashing by ; I know there was
a herd, but only the first and last will come to mind —
the space between seems blurred. The clear impres-
sions are of the koodoo bull in front, with nose out-
thrust, eyes shut against the bush, and great horns laid
back upon the withers, as he swept along opening the
way for his herd ; and then, as they vanished, the big
ears, ewe neck, and tilting hindquarters of the last cow
— between them nothing but a mass of moving grey !
The wildebeeste went by in Indian file, uniform in
shape, colour and horns ; and strangely uniform in
their mechanical action, lowered heads, and fiercely
determined rush.
A rietbuck ram stopped close to us, looked back
wide-eyed and anxious, and whistled shrilly, and then
cantered on with head erect and white tail flapping ;
but its mate neither answered nor came by. A terri-
fied hare with its ears laid flat scuttled past within a
yard of Francis and did not seem to see him. Above
us scared birds swept or fluttered down wind ; while
others again came up swirling and swinging about,
darting boldly through the smoke to catch the insects
driven before the fire.
But what comes back with the suggestion of in-
'. finitely pathetic helplessness is the picture of a beetle.
We stood on the edge of our burn, waiting for
the ground to cool, and at my feet a pair of tock-
tockie beetles, hump backed and bandy legged, came
toiling slowly and earnestly along ; they reached
"•K the edge of our burn, touched the warm ash,
r, and turned patiently aside — to walk round it !
/*" 292
mrs
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W'Tft
VS/Y
^7y?rr//
A school of chattering monkeys raced out on to
the blackened flat, and screamed shrilly with terror
as the hot earth and cinders burnt their feet.
Porcupine, antbear, meerkat ! They are vague, so
vague that nothing is left but the shadow of their
passing ; but there is one other thing — seen in a flash
as brief as the others, for a second or two only, but
never to be forgotten ! Out of the yellow grass, high
up in the waving tops, came sailing down on us the
swaying head and glittering eyes of a black mamba —
swiftest, most vicious, most deadly of snakes. Francis
and I were not five yards apart and it passed between
us, giving a quick chilly beady look at each — pitiless,
and hateful — and one hiss as the slithering tongue shot
out : that was all, and it sailed past with strange
effortless movement. How much of the body was
on the ground propelling it, I cannot even guess ;
but we had to look upwards to see the head as the snake
passed between us.
The scorching breath of the fire drove us before it
on to the baked ground, inches deep in ashes and glow-
ing cinders, where we kept marking time to ease our
blistering feet ; our hats were pulled down to screen
our necks as we stood with our backs to the coming
flames ; our flannel shirts were so hot that we kept shift-
ing our shoulders for relief. Jock, who had no screen
and whose feet had no protection, was in my arms ;
and we strove to shield ourselves from the furnace-
blast with the branches we had used to beat out the
fire round the big tree which was our main shelter.
The heat was awful ! Live brands were
293
-7-'
flying past all the time, and some struck us ; myriads of
sparks fell round and on us, burning numberless small
holes in our clothing, and dotting blisters on our backs ;
great sheets of flame leaped out from the driving
glare, and, detached by many yards from their source,
were visible for quite a space in front of us. Then,
just at its maddest and fiercest there came a gasp and
sob, and the fire devil died behind us as it reached the
black bare ground. Our burn divided it as an island
splits the flood, and it swept along our flanks in two
great walls of living leaping roaring flame.
Two hundred yards away there was a bare yellow
place in a world of inky black, and to that haven we
ran. It was strange to look about and see the naked
country all round us, where but a few minutes earlier
the tall grass had shut us in ; but the big bare ant-
heap was untouched, and there we flung ourselves
down, utterly done.
Faint from heat and exhaustion — scorched and
blistered, face and arms, back and feet ; weary and
footsore, and with boots burnt through — we reached
camp long after dark, glad to be alive.
We had forgotten the wounded buffalo ; he seemed
part of another life !
* * * * *
There was no more hunting for us : our feet had
' gone in,' and we were well content to sleep and rest.
The burnt stubbly ends of the grass had pierced the
baked leather of our boots many times ; and Jock, too,
had suffered badly and could hardly bear to set foot
294
to the ground next day. The best we could hope for
was to be sound enough to return to our own waggons
in two or three days' time.
The camp was under a very large wild fig tree,
whose dense canopy gave us shade all through the
day. We had burnt the grass for some twenty or
thirty yards round as a protection against bush fires ;
and as the trees and scrub were not thick just there
it was possible to see in various directions rather
further than one usually can in the Bushveld. The
big tree was a fair landmark by day, and at night
we made a good fire, which owing to the position of
the camp one could see from a considerable distance.
These precautions were for the benefit of strayed or
belated members of the party ; but I mention them
because the position of the camp and the fire brought
us a strange visitor the last night of our stay there.
There were, I think, seven white men ; and the
moving spirit of the party — old Teddy Blacklow of
Ballarat — was one of the old alluvial diggers, a warm-
hearted, impulsive, ever-young old boy, and a rare
good sportsman. That was Teddy, the ' man in
muddy moleskins,' who stretched out the hand of
friendship when the Boy was down, and said " You
come along o' me ! " one of ' God's sort.'
Teddy's spirits were always up ; his presence
breathed a cheery optimism on the blankest day ;
his humour lighted everything ; his stories kept us
going ; and his language was a joy for ever. In a
community, in which such things savoured of eccen-
tricity, Teddy was an abstainer and never swore ;
295
but if actual profanity was avoided, the dear old boy
all unconsciously afforded strong support to those
who hold that a man must find relief in vigorous ex-
pression. To do this, without violating his principles,
he invented words and phrases, meaningless in them-
selves but in general outline, so to say, resembling the
worst in vogue ; and the effect produced by them
upon the sensitive was simply horrifying. Teddy
himself was blissfully unconscious of this, for his lan-
guage, being scrupulously innocent, was deemed by
him to be suited to all circumstances and to every
company. The inevitable consequence was that the
first impression produced by him on the few women
he ever met was that of an abandoned old reprobate
whose scant veil of disguise only made the outrage
of his language more marked. Poor old Teddy !
Kindest and gentlest and dearest of souls ! How he
would have stared at this, speechless with surprise ;
and how we used to laugh at what some one called his
* glittering paro-fanities ! ' Pity it is that they too
must go ; for one dare not reproduce the best of them.
It was between eight and nine o'clock on the last
day of our stay ; Francis and I were fit again, and
Jock's feet, thanks to care and washing and plenty of
castor oil, no longer troubled him ; we were examin-
ing our boots — re-soled now with raw hide in the rough
but effective veld fashion ; Teddy was holding forth
about the day's chase whilst he cut away the pith of
a koodoo's horns and scraped the skull ; others were
busy on their trophies too ; and the kaffirs round
their own fire were keeping up the simultaneous
296
gabble characteristic of hunting boys after a good day
and with plenty of meat in camp.
I was sitting on a small camp stool critically examin-
ing a boot and wondering if the dried hide would
grip well enough to permit of the top lacings being
removed, and Jock was lying in front of me, carefully
licking the last sore spot on one fore paw, when I saw
his head switch up suddenly and his whole body set
hard in a study of intense listening. Then he got up
and trotted briskly off some ten or fifteen yards, and
stood — a bright spot picked out by the glare of the
camp fire — with his back towards me and his uneven
ears topping him off.
I walked out to him, and silence fell on the camp ;
all watched and listened. At first we heard nothing
but soon the call of a wild dog explained Jock's move-
ments ; the sound, however, did not come from the
direction in which he was looking, but a good deal to
the right ; and as he instantly looked to this new
quarter I concluded that this was not the dog he had
previously heard, or else it must have moved rapidly.
There was another wait, and then there followed calls
from other quarters.
There was nothing unusual in the presence of wild
dogs : hyenas, jackals, wild dogs and all the smaller
beasts of prey were heard nightly ; what attracted
attention in this case was the regular calling from
different points. The boys said the wild dogs were
hunting something and calling to each other to
indicate the direction of the hunt, so that those in
front might turn the buck and by keeping it in a circle
297
enable fresh or rested dogs to jump in from time to
time and so, eventually, wear the poor hunted creature
down. This, according to the natives, is the system
of the wild pack. When they cannot find easy, prey
in the young, weak or wounded, and are forced by
hunger to hunt hard, they first scatter widely over
the chosen area where game is located, and then one
buck is chosen — the easiest victim, a ewe with young
for choice — and cutting it out from the herd, they
follow that one and that alone with remorseless in-
vincible persistency. They begin the hunt knowing
that it will last for hours — knowing too that in speed
they have no chance against the buck — and when the
intended victim is cut out from the herd one or two
of the dogs — so the natives say — take up the chase
and with long easy gallop keep it going, giving no
moment's rest for breath ; from time to time they
give their weird peculiar call and others of the pack —
posted afar — head the buck off to turn it back again ;
the fresh ones then take up the chase, and the first
pair drop out to rest and wait, or follow slowly until
their chance and turn come round again. There is
something so hateful in the calculated pitiless method
that one feels it a duty to kill the cruel brutes when-
ever a chance occurs.
The hunt went on round us ; sometimes near
enough to hear the dogs' eager cries quite clearly ;
sometimes so far away that for a while nothing could
be heard ; and Jock moved from point to point in the
outermost circle of the camp-fire's light nearest to
the chase.
When at last hunters and hunted completed their
wide circuit round the camp, and passed again the point
where we had first heard them, the end seemed near ;
for there were no longer single calls widely separated,
but the voices of the pack in hot close chase. They
seemed to be passing half a mile away from us ; but in
the stillness of the night sound travels far, and one can
only guess. Again a little while and the cries sounded
nearer and as if coming from one quarter — not moving
round us as before ; and a few minutes more, and it was
certain they were still nearer and coming straight
towards us. We took our guns then, and I called Jock
back to where we stood under the tree with our backs
to the fire.
The growing sounds came on out of the night where
all was hidden with the weird crescendo effect of a
coming flood ; we could pick them out then — the louder
harsher cries ; the crashing through bush ; the rush
in grass ; the sobbing gasps in front ; and the hungry
panting after. The hunt came at us like a cyclone
out of the stillness, and in the forefront of it there burst
into the circle of light an impala ewe with open mouth
and haunting hunted despairing eyes and wide spread
ears ; and the last staggering strides brought her in
among us, tumbling at our feet.
A kaffir jumped out with assegai aloft ; but Teddy,
with the spring of a tiger and a yell of rage, swung his
rifle round and down on assegai arm and head, and
dropped the boy in his tracks.
" Go-sh !— Da-11 ! Cr-r-r-i-miny ! What the Hex
are you up to ? " and the fiery soft-hearted old
299
boy was down on to his knees in a second, panting
with, anger and excitement, and threw his arms about
the buck.
The foremost of the pack followed hot foot
close behind the buck — oblivious of fire and men,
seeing nothing but the quarry — and at a distance of
five yards a mixed volley of bullets and assegais tumbled
it over. Another followed, and again another : both
fell where they kad stopped, a dozen yards away,
puzzled by the fire and the shooting ; and still more
and more came on, but, warned by the unexpected
check in front, they stopped at the clearing's edge,
until over twenty pairs of eyes reflecting the fire's
light shone out at us in a rough semi-circle. The
shot guns came in better then ; and more than half
the pack went under that night before the others
cleared off. Perhaps they did not realise that the
shots and flashes were not part of the camp fire from
which they seemed to come ; perhaps their system
of never relinquishing a chase had not been tried
against the white man before.
One of the wild dogs, wounded by a shot, seemed
to go mad with agony and raced straight into the clear-
ing towards the fire, uttering the strangest maniac-like
yaps. Jock had all along been straining to go for them
from where I had jammed him between my feet as I
sat and fired, and the charge of this dog was more than
he could bear : he shot out like a rocket, and the col-
lision sent the two flying apart ; but he was on to the
wild dog again and had it by the throat before it could
recover. Instantly the row of lights went out, as if
300
switched off — they were no longer looking at us ;
there was a rustle and a sound of padded feet, and
dim grey-looking forms gathered at the edge of the
clearing nearest where Jock and the wounded dog
fought. I shouted to Jock to come back, and several
of us ran out to help, just as another of the pack made
a dash in. It seemed certain that Jock, gripping
and worrying his enemy's throat, had neither time
nor thought for anything else ; yet as the fresh dog
came at him he let go his grip of the other, and jumped
to meet the new-comer ; in mid-spring Jock caught
the other by the ear and the two spun completely
round — their positions being reversed ; then, with
another wrench as he landed, he flung the attacker
behind him and jumped back at the wounded one
which had already turned to go.
It looked like the clean and easy movement of a
finished gymnast. It was an affair of a few seconds only,
for of course the instant we got a chance at the dogs,
without the risk to Jock, both were shot ; and he,
struggling to get at the others, was haled back to the tree.
While this was going on the impala stood with
wide spread legs, dazed and helpless, between Teddy's
feet, just as he had placed it. Its breath came in
broken choking sobs ; the look of terror and despair
had not yet faded from the staring eyes ; the head
swayed from side to side ; the mouth hung open and
the tongue lolled out ; all told beyond the power of
words the tale of desperate struggle and
exhaustion. It drank greedily from the
dish that Teddy held for it — emptied it,
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and five minutes later drank it again and then lay
down.
For half an hour it lay there, slowly recovering ;
sometimes for spells of a few minutes it appeared to
breathe normally once more ; then the heavy open-
mouthed panting would return again ; and all the
time Teddy kept on stroking or patting it gently
and talking to it as if he were comforting a child, and
every now and then bursting out with sudden gusty
execrations, in his own particular style, of wild dogs
and kafHrs. At last it rose briskly, and standing be-
tween his knees looked about, taking no notice of
Teddy's hands laid on either side and gently patting it.
No one moved or spoke. Jock, at my feet, appeared
most interested of all, but I am afraid his views differed
considerably from ours on that occasion, and he must
have been greatly puzzled ; he remained watching
intently with his head laid on his paws, his ears cocked,
and his brown eyes fixed unblinkingly ; and at each
movement on the buck's part something stirred in him,
drawing every muscle tense and ready for the spring —
internal grips which were reflected in the twitching
and stiffening of his neck and back ; but each time as
I laid a hand on him he slackened out again and
subsided.
We sat like statues as the impala walked out from
its stall between Teddy's knees, and stood looking
about wonderingly at the faces white and black, at the
strange figures, and at the fire. It stepped out quite
quietly, much as it might have moved about here and
there any peaceful morning in its usual haunts ; the
302
head swung about briskly, but unalarmed ; and ears
and eyes were turned this way and that in easy con-
fidence and mild curiosity.
With a few more steps it threaded its way close to
one sitting figure and round a bucket ; stepped daintily
over Teddy's rifle ; and passed the koodoo's head un-
noticed.
It seemed to us — even to us, and at the moment —
like a scene in fairyland in which some spell held us
while the beautiful wild thing strolled about un-
frightened.
A few yards away it stopped for perhaps a couple
of minutes ; its back was towards us and the fire ;
the silence was absolute ; and it stood thus with eyes
and ears for the bush alone. There was a warning
whisk of the white tail and it started off again — this
time at a brisk trot — and we thought it had gone ;
but at the edge of the clearing it once more stood and
listened. Now and again the ears flickered and the
head turned slightly one way or another, but no sound
came from the bush ; the out-thrust nose was raised
with gentle tosses, but no taint reached it on the gentle
breeze.
All was well !
It looked slowly round, giving one long full gaze
back at us which seemed to be " Good-bye, and — thank
you ! " and cantered out into the dark.
SNOWBALL was an ' old soldier ' — I say it with all
respect ! He had been through the wars ; that is
to say, he had seen the ups and downs of life and
had learnt the equine equivalent of " God helps those
who help themselves." For Snowball was a horse.
Tsetse was also an old soldier, but he was what you
might call a gentleman old soldier, with a sense of
duty ; and in his case the discipline and honour of
his calling were not garments for occasion but part of
himself. Snowball was no gentleman : he was selfish
and unscrupulous, a confirmed shirker, often absent
without leave, and upon occasions a rank deserter —
for which last he once narrowly escaped being shot.
Tsetse belonged to my friend Hall ; but Snowball
was mine ! What I know about him was learnt with
mortification of the spirit and flesh ; and what he
could not teach in that way was ' over the head ' of
the most indurated old dodger that ever lived.
Tsetse had his peculiarities and prejudices : like
many old soldiers he was a stickler for etiquette and
did not like departures from habit and routine ; for
3°4
instance, he would not under any circumstances
permit mounting on the wrong side — a most prepos-
terous stand for an old salted shooting horse to take,
and the cause of much inconvenience at times. On
the mountains it often happened that the path was jf
too narrow and the slope too steep to permit one to |
mount on the left side, whereas the sharp rise of the i|
ground made it very easy on the right. But Tsetse II
made no allowance for this, and if the attempt were
made he would stand quite still until the rider was off
the ground but not yet in the saddle, and then buck
continuously until the offender shot overhead and went
skidding down the slope. To one encumbered with
a rifle in hand, and a kettle or perhaps a couple of legs
of buck slung on the saddle, Tsetse's protest was
usually irresistible.
Snowball had no unpractical prejudices : he
objected to work — that was all. He was a pure white
horse, goodness knows how old, with enormously long
teeth ; every vestige of grey or other tinge had faded
out of him, and his eyes had an aged and resigned look :
one warmed to him at sight as a " dear old pet of a
Dobbin ! " who ought to be passing his last years
grazing contentedly in a meadow and giving bare-
back rides to little children. The reproach of his
venerable look nearly put me off taking him — it seemed
such a shame to make the dear old fellow work ; but
I hardened my heart and, feeling rather a brute,
bought him because he was * salted ' and would live
in the Bushveld : beside that, all other considerations
were trivial. Of course he was said to be a shooting
305 u
horse, and he certainly took no notice of a gun fired
under his nose or from his back — which was all the
test I could apply at the time ; and then his legs were
quite sound ; his feet were excellent ; he had lost no
teeth yet ; and he was in tip top condition. What
more could one want ?
" He looks rather a fool of a horse ! " I had remarked
dubiously to Joey the Smith, who was * willin' to let
him go,' and I can recall now the peculiar glint in
Joey's eye and the way he sort of steadied himself
with a little cough before he answered feelingly :
" He's no fool, sonny ! You won't want to get a
cleverer horse as long as you live ! "
And no more I did — as we used to say !
Snowball had one disfigurement, consisting of a
large black swelling as big as a small orange behind
his left eye, which must have annoyed him greatly ;
it could easily have been removed, and many sugges-
tions were made on the subject but all of them were
firmly declined. Without that lump I should have
had no chance against him : it was the weak spot in
his defence : it was the only cover under which it
was possible to stalk him when he made one of his
determined attempts to dodge or desert ; for he could
see nothing that came up behind him on the left side
without turning his head completely round ; hence
one part of the country was always hidden from him,
and of course it was from this quarter that we in-
variably made our approaches to attack.
So well did Snowball realise this that when the old
villain intended giving trouble he would start off with
306
his head swung away to the right, and when far enough
away to graze in security — a hundred yards or so was
enough — would turn right about and face towards ^,
the waggons or camp, or wherever the danger-quarter
was ; then, keeping us well in view, he would either
graze off sideways, or from time to time walk briskly
off to occupy a new place, with the right eye swung
round on us like a search-light.
Against all this, however, it is only fair to admit that
there were times when for days, and even weeks, at a
stretch he would behave admirably, giving no more
trouble than Jock did. Moreover he had qualities
which were not to be despised . he was as sound as a
bell, very clever on his feet, never lost his condi-
tion, and, although not fast, could last for ever at his
own pace.
Experience taught me to take no chances with Snow-
ball. After a hard day he was apt to think that
' enough was as good as a feast,' and then trouble
might be expected. But there was really no safe rule
with him ; he seemed to have moods — to ' get out
of bed on the wrong side ' — on certain days and,
for no reason in the world, behave with a calculated
hostility that was simply maddening.
Hunting horses live almost entirely by grazing, as
it is seldom possible to carry any grain or other foods
for them and never possible to carry enough ; and
salted horses have therefore a particular value in that
they can be turned out to graze at night or in the morn-
ing and evening dews when animals not immunised
will contract horse-sickness ; thus they
3°7
feed during the hours when hunting is not possible
and keep their condition when an unsalted horse
would fall away from sheer want of food.
According to their training, disposition, and know-
ledge of good and evil, horses are differently treated
when * offsaddled ' ; some may be trusted without
even a halter, and can be caught and saddled when
and where required ; others are knee-haltered ; others
are hobbled by a strap coupling either both fore feet, or
one fore and one hind foot, with enough slack to allow
walking, but not enough for the greater reach of a trot
or gallop ; whilst some incorrigibles are both knee-
haltered and hobbled ; and in this gallery Snowball
figured upon occasion — a mournful and injured inno-
cent, if appearances went for anything !
It was not, as a rule, at the outspan, where many
hands were available, that Snowball gave trouble,
but out hunting when I was alone or with only one
companion. A trained shooting horse should stop
as soon as his rider lays hand on mane to dismount,
and should remain where he is left for any length of
time until his master returns ; some horses require the
reins to be dropped over their heads to remind them
of their duty but many can safely be left to them-
selves and will be found grazing quietly where left.
Snowball knew well what to do, but he pleased
himself about doing it ; sometimes he would stand ;
sometimes move off a little way, and keep moving —
just out of reach — holding his head well on one side
so that he should not tread on the trailing reins or the
long weighted reimpje which was attached to his bit
308
for the purpose of hindering and catching him ; some-
times, with a troop of buck moving on ahead or perhaps
a wounded one to follow, this old sinner would right-
about-face and simply walk off — only a few yards
separating us — with his ears laid back, his tail tucked
down ominously, and occasional little liftings of his
hindquarters to let me know what to expect — and his
right eye on me all the while ; and, if I ran to head
him off, he would break into a trot and leave me a
little worse off than before; and sometimes, in familiar
country, he would make straight away for the waggons
without more ado.
It is demoralising in the extreme to be expecting
a jerk when in the act of aiming — and Snowball, who
cared no more for shooting than a deaf gunner, would
plunge like a two-year-old when he was play-acting —
and it is little better, while creeping forward for a
shot, to hear your horse strolling off behind and realise
that you will have to hunt for him and perhaps walk
many miles back to camp without means of carrying
anything you may shoot. The result of experience was
that I had to choose between two alternatives : either
to hook him up to a tree or bush each time or hobble
him with his reins, and so lose many good chances of
quick shots when coming unexpectedly on game ; or to
slip an arm through the reins and take chance of being
plucked off my aim or jerked violently backwards as
I fired. But it was at the ' offsaddles ' on long journeys
across country or during the rest in a day's hunt that
trouble was most to be feared, and although hobbling
is dangerous in a country so full of holes, stumps, and
3°9
all sorts of grass-hidden obstacles, there were times
when consideration for Snowball seemed mighty like
pure foolishness, and it would have been no grief to
me if he had broken his neck !
To the credit of Snowball stand certain things,
however, and it is but justice to say that, when once
in the ranks, he played his part well ; and it is due to
him to say that during one hard season a camp of
waggons with their complement of men had to be
kept in meat, and it was Snowball who carried — for
short and long distances, through dry rough country,
at all times of day and night, hot, thirsty and tired,
and without a breakdown or a day's sickness — a bag
that totalled many thousands of pounds in weight,
and the man who made the bag.
" That wall-eyed brute of yours " was launched at
me in bitterness of spirit on many occasions when
Snowball led the normally well-behaved ones astray ;
and it is curious to note how strength of character
or clear purpose will establish leadership among animals,
as among men. Rooiland the restless, when dissatis-
fied with the grass or in want of water, would cast
about up wind for a few minutes and then with his
hot eyeballs staring and nostrils well distended choose
his line, going resolutely along and only pausing from
time to time to give a low moan for signal and allow
the straggling string of unquestioning followers to
catch up. When Rooiland had ' trek fever ' there
was no rest for herd. boys. So too with old Snowball :
he led the well-behaved astray and they followed him
blindly. Had Snowball been a schoolboy, a wise
310
headmaster would have expelled him — for the general
good and discipline of the school.
On one long horseback journey through Swaziland
to the coast, where few white men and no horses had
yet been seen, we learned to know Snowball and
Tsetse well, and found out what a horse can do when
put to it. It was a curious experience on that trip
to see whole villages flee in terror at the first sight of
the new strange animals — one brown and one white ;
in some places not even the grown men would ap-
proach, but too proud to show fear, they stood their
ground, their bronze faces blanching visibly and setting
hard as we rode up ; the women fled with half-stifled
cries of alarm ; and once, when we came unexpectedly
upon a party of naked urchins playing on the banks
of a stream, the whole pack set off full cry for the
water and, jumping in like a school of alarmed frogs,
disappeared. Infinitely amused by the stampede we
rode up to see what had become of them, but the
silence was absolute, and for a while they seemed to have
vanished altogether; then a tell-tale ripple gave the clue,
and under the banks among the ferns and exposed roots
we picked out little black faces half submerged and pairs
of frightened eyes staring at us from all sides. They
were not to be reassured, either: the only effect pro-
duced by our laughing comments and friendly
overtures being that the head which deemed
itself pointedly addressed would disappear «
completely and remain so long out of £
sight as to make us feel quite smothery
and criminally responsible.
311
It is in the rivers that a man feels the importance
of a good horse with a stout heart, and his dependence
on it. There were no roads, and not even known tracks,
there ; and when we reached the Black Umbelusi
we picked a place where there was little current and
apparently an easy way out on the opposite side. It
was much deeper than it looked ; however, we were
prepared, and thirty yards of swimming did not
trouble us ; yet it certainly was a surprise to us
when the horses swam right up to the other bank
without finding bottom and, turning aside, began
to swim up stream. Looking down into the clear
depths we saw that there was a sheer wall of rock to
within a few inches of the surface. Now, a horse
with a man on his back swims low — only the head
and half the neck showing above water — and by what
instinct or means the horses realised the position I do
not know, but, with little hesitation and apparently
of one accord, they got back a yard or two from the
ledge and, raising first one fore foot and then the
other, literally climbed out — exactly as a man or a dog
does out of a swimming bath — hoisting their riders
out with them without apparent difficulty. That
was something which we had not thought possible,
and to satisfy ourselves we dismounted and tried
the depth ; but the ten foot reeds failed to reach
bottom.
When it came to crossing the Crocodile River we
chose the widest spot in the hope that it would
be shallow and free of rocks. We fired some shots
into the river to scare the crocodiles, and started to
312
cross ; but to our surprise Tsetse, the strong-nerved
and reliable, who always had the post of honour in
front, absolutely refused to enter.
The water of the Crocodile is at its best of amber
clearness and we could not see bottom, but the sloping
grassy bank promised well enough and no hint reached
us of what the horses knew quite well. All we had
was on our horses — food, blankets, billy, rifles and
ammunition. We were off on a long trip and, to vary
or supplement the game diet, carried a small packet
of tea, a little sugar, flour, and salt, and some beads with
which to trade for native fowls and thick milk ; the
guns had to do the rest. Thus there were certain
things we could not afford to wet, and these we used
to wrap up in a mackintosh and carry high when it
came to swimming, but this crossing looked so easy
that it seemed sufficient to raise the packs instead of
carrying part of them.
Tsetse, who in the ordinary way regarded the spur
as part of the accepted discipline, promptly resented
it when there seemed to him to be sufficient reason ;
and when Hall, astonished at Tsetse's unexpected
obstinacy, gave him both heels, the old horse consider-
ately swung round away from the river, and with a
couple of neatly executed bucks shot his encumbered ^
rider off the raised pack, yards away on to the soft *
grass — water-bottle, rifle, bandolier and man landing
in a lovely tangle.
I then put old Snowball at it, fully expecting
trouble ; but the old soldier was quite at
home; he walked quietly to the edge,//™
sat down comfortably, and slid into the water
— launching himself with scarce a ripple just like
'an old hippo. That gave us the explanation of
Tsetse's tantrum : the water came up to the seat of
my saddle and walking was only just possible. I
stopped at once, waiting for Tsetse to follow ; and
Hall, prepared for another refusal, sat back and again
used his spurs. Na doubt Tsetse, once he knew the
depth, was quite satisfied and meant to go in quietly,
and the prick of the spur must have been unexpected,
for he gave a plunge forward, landing with his fore
feet in deep water and hind quarters still on the bank,
and Hall shot out overhead, landing half across old
Snowball's back. There was a moment of ludicrous
but agonised suspense ! Hall's legs were firmly grip-
ping Tsetse behind the ears while he sprawled on his
stomach on Snowball's crupper, with the reins still in
one hand and the rifle in the other. Doubled up with
suppressed laughter I grabbed a fist full of shirt and
held on, every moment expecting Tsetse to hoist his
head or pull back and complete the disaster, while
Hall was spluttering out directions, entreaties and
imprecations ; but good old Tsetse never moved, and
Hall handing me the rifle managed to swarm back-
wards on to Tsetse's withers and scramble on to the
pack again.
Then, saddle-deep in the river — duckings and
crocodiles forgotten — we sat looking at each other
and laughed till we ached.
The river was about three hundred yards wide
there with a good sandy bottom and of uniform depth,
3H
but, to our disappointment, we found that the other
bank which had appeared to slope gently to the water
edge was in fact a sheer wall standing up several feet
above the river level. The beautiful slope which we
had seen consisted of water grass and reed tops ; the
bank itself was of firm moist clay ; and the river
bottom close under it was soft mud. We tried a little
way up and down, but found deeper water, more mud
and reeds, and no break in the bank ; there was not
even a lagavaan slide, a game path, or a drinking-place.
There seemed to be nothing for it but to go back again
and try somewhere else.
Hall was ' bad to beat ' when he started on any-
thing— he did not know how to give in ; but when he
looked at the bank and said, " We'll have a shot at
this," I thought at first he was joking. Later, to my
remark that "no horse ever born would face that," he
answered that " any way we could try : it would be just
as good as hunting for more places of the same sort ! "
I do not know the height of the bank, as we were
not thinking of records at that time, but there are
certain facts which enable one to guess fairly closely.
Tsetse was ranged up beside the bank, and Hall
standing in the saddle threw his rifle and bandolier
up and scrambled out himself. I then loosened
Tsetse's girths from my seat on Snowball, and
handed up the packed saddle — Hall lying down
on the bank to take it from me ; and we did
the same with Snowball's load, including
my own clothes, for, as it was already
sundown, a ducking was not desirable,
315
I loosened one side of Tsetse's reins, and after attach-
ing one of mine in order to give the necessary
length to them threw the end up to Hall, and he cut
and handed me a long supple rod for a whip to stir
Tsetse to his best endeavours. The water there was
rather more than half saddle-flap high ; I know that
because it just left me a good expanse of hindquarters
to aim at when the moment came.
"Now!" yelled Hall, "Up, Tsetse! Up!/'; and
whack went the stick ! Tsetse reared up, right on
end ; he could not reach the top but struck his fore
feet into the moist bank near the top, and with a
mighty plunge that soused Snowball and me, went
out. The tug on the leading rein, on which Hall
had thrown all his weight when Tsetse used it to lever
himself up, had jerked Hall flat on his face ; but he was
up in a minute, and releasing Tsetse threw back the rein
to get Snowball to face it while the example was fresh.
Then for the first time we thought of the crocodiles —
and the river was full of them ! But Snowball without
some one behind him with a stick would never face
that jump, and there was nothing for it but to fire
some scaring shots, and slip into the water and get
the job over as quickly as possible.
Snarleyow was with us — I had left Jock at the
waggons fearing that we would get into fly country on
the Umbelusi — and the bank was too high and too
steep for him ; he huddled up against it half
supported by reeds, and whined plain-
tively.
To our relief Snowball faced the
jump quite readily ; indeed, the old
316
sinner did it with much less effort and splash than the
bigger Tsetse. But then came an extremely unpleasant
spell. Snowball got a scare, because Hall in his anxiety
to get me out rushed up to him on the warty side to
get the reins off ; and the old ruffian waltzed around,
dragging Hall through the thorns, while Snarleyow
and I waited in the water for help.
At that moment I had a poorer opinion of Snowball
and Snarley than at any other I can remember. I
wished Snarley dead twenty times in twenty seconds.
Crocodiles love dogs ; and it seemed to me a million
to one that a pair of green eyes and a black snout must
slide out of the water any moment, drawn to us by
those advertising whines ! And the worst of it was,
I was outside Snarley with my white legs gleaming
in the open water, while his cringing form was tucked
away half hidden by the reeds. What an age it
seemed ! How each reed shaken by the river breeze
caught the eye, giving me goose-flesh and sending
waves of cold shudders creeping over me ! How the
cold smooth touch of a reed stem against my leg made
me want to jump and to get out with one huge plunge as
the horses had done ! And even when I had passed the
struggling yowling Snarleyup,the fewremaining seconds
seemed painfully long. Hall had to lie flat and reach his
furthest to grip my hand ; and I nearly pulled him in,
scrambling up that bank like a chased cat up a tree.
When one comes to think it out, the bank must
have been nine feet high. It was mighty unpleasant ;
but it taught us what a horse can do when he puts his
back into it !
HALF-WAY between the Crocodile and Komati Rivers^
a few miles south, of the old road, there are half a
dozen or more small kopjes between which lie broad
j richly grassed depressions, too wide and flat to be
called valleys. The fall of the country is slight, yet
the rich loamy soil has been washed out in places
into dongas of considerable depth. There is no
running water there in winter, but there are a few
big pools — long narrow irregularly shaped bits of
water — with shady trees around them.
I came upon the place by accident one day, and
thereafter we kept it dark as our own preserve ; for it
was full of game, and a most delightful spot. It was
there that Snarleyow twice cleaned out the hunter's
pot.
Apart from the discovery of this preserve, the day
was memorable for the reason that it was my first
experience of a big mixed herd ; and I learned that
day how difficult the work may be when several kinds
of game run together. After a dry and warm morning
the sight of the big pool had prompted an offsaddle ;
Snowball was tethered in a patch of good grass, and
Jock and I were lying in the shade.
When he began to sniff and walk up wind I took
the rifle and followed, and only a little way off we
came into dry vlei ground where there were few trees
and the grass stood about waist high. Some two
hundred yards away where the ground rose slightly
and the bush became thicker there was a fair sized
troop of impala, perhaps a hundred or more, and just
behind, and mostly to one side of them, were between
twenty and thirty tsessebe. We saw them clearly
and in time to avoid exposing ourselves : they were
neither feeding nor resting, but simply standing about,
and individual animals were moving unconcernedly
from time to time with an air of idle loitering. I
tried to pick out a good tsessebe ram, but the impala
were in the way, and it was necessary to crawl for some
distance to reach certain cover away on the right.
Crawling is hard work and very rough on both hands
and knees in the Bushveld, frequent rests being neces-
sary ; and in one of the pauses I heard a curious sound
of soft padded feet jumping behind me, and looking
quickly about caught Jock in the act of taking his
observations. The grass was too high for him to see
over, even when he stood up on his hind legs, and he
was giving jumps of slowly increasing strength to get
the height which would enable him to see what was on.
I shall never forget that first view of Jock's ballooning
observations ; it became a regular practice afterwards
and I grew accustomed to seeing him stand on his hind
legs or jump when his view was shut out — indeed
sometimes when we were having a slow time I used to
draw him by pretending to stalk something ; but it is
that first view that remains a picture of him. I
turned at the instant when he was at the top of his
jump ; his legs were all bunched up, his eyes staring
eagerly and his ears had flapped out, giving him a look
of comic astonishment. It was a most surprisingly
unreal sight : he looked like a caricature of Jock shot
into the air by a galvanic shock. A sign with my
hand brought him flat on the ground, looking distinctly
guilty, and we moved along again ; but I was shaking
with silent laughter.
At the next stop I had a look back to see how he
was behaving, and to my surprise, although he was
following carefully close behind me, he was looking
steadily away to our immediate right. I subsided gently
on to my left side to see what it was that interested
him, and to my delight saw a troop of twenty to
twenty-five Blue Wildebeeste. They, too, were
' standing any way,' and evidently had not seen us.
I worked myself cautiously round to face them so
as to be able to pick my shot and take it kneeling, thus
clearing the tops of the grass ; but whilst doing this
another surprising development took place. Looking
hard and carefully at the wildebeetse two hundred
yards away, I became conscious of something else in
between us, and only half the distance off, looking at
me. It had the effect of a shock ; the disagreeable
effect produced by having a book or picture suddenly
thrust close to the face ; the feeling of wanting to get
further away from it to re-focus one's sight.
320
What I saw was simply a dozen quagga, all exactly
alike, all standing alike, all looking at me, all full face
to me, their fore feet together, their ears cocked, and
their heads quite motionless — all gazing steadily at
me, alive with interest and curiosity. There was
something quite ludicrous in it, and something perplex-
ing also : when I looked at the quagga the wildebeeste
seemed to get out of focus and were lost to me ; when
I looked at the wildebeeste the quagga ' blurred '
and faded out of sight. The difference in distance,
perhaps as much as the very marked difference in the
distinctive colourings, threw me out; and the effect
of being watched also told. Of course I wanted to get
a wildebeeste, but I was conscious of the watching
quagga all the time, and, for the life of me, could not
help constantly looking at them to see if they were
going to start off and stampede the others.
Whilst trying to pick out the best of the wildebeeste
a movement away on the left made me look that way :
the impala jumped off like one animal, scaring the
tsessebe into a scattering rout ; the quagga switched
round and thundered off like a stampede of horses ;
and the wildebeeste simply vanished. One signal in
one troop had sent the whole lot off. Jock and I were
left alone, still crouching, looking from side to side,
staring at the slowly drifting dust, and listening to the
distant dying sound of galloping feet.
It was a great disappointment, but the conviction
that we had found a reallygood spot made some amends,
and Snowball was left undisturbed to feed and rest for
another two hours. We made for the waggons along
321 x
another route taking in some of the newly discovered
country in the home sweep, and the promise of the
morning was fulfilled. We had not been more than
a few minutes on the way when a fine rietbuck ram
jumped up within a dozen yards of Snowball's nose.
Old Rocky had taught me to imitate the rietbuck's
shrill whistle and this one fell to the first shot. He was
a fine big fellow, and as Snowball put on airs and
pretended to be nervous when it came to packing the
meat, I had to blindfold him, and after hoisting the
buck up to a horizontal branch lowered it on to his
back.
Snowball was villainously slow and bad to lead.
He knew that whilst being led neither whip nor spur
could touch him, and when loaded up with meat he
dragged along at a miserable walk : one had to haul
him. Once — but only once — I had tried driving
him before me, trusting to about 400 Ib. weight of
koodoo meat to keep him steady ; but no sooner had
I stepped behind with a switch than he went off with
a cumbrous plunge and bucked like a frantic mule
until he rid himself of his load, saddle and all. The
fact is one person could not manage him on foot, it
needed one at each end of him, and he knew it : thus
it worked out at a compromise : he carried my load,
and I went his pace !
We were labouring along in this fashion when we
came on the wildebeeste again. A white man on foot
seems to be recognised as an enemy ; but if accom-
panied by animals, either on horseback, driving in a
vehicle, leading a horse, or walking among cattle, he
322
may pass unnoticed for a long while : attention seems
to be fixed on the animals rather than the man, and
frank curiosity instead of alarm is quite evidently the
feeling aroused.
The wildebeeste had allowed me to get close up,
and I picked out the big bull and took the shot kneeling,
with my toe hooked in the reins to secure Snowball,
taking chance of being jerked off my aim rather than
let him go ; but he behaved like an angel, and once
more that day a single shot was enough.
It was a long and tedious job skinning the big fellow,
cutting him up, hauling the heavy limbs and the rest
of the meat up into a suitable tree, and making all safe
against the robbers of the earth and the air ; and
most troublesome of all was packing the head and skin
on Snowball, who showed the profoundest mistrust of
this dark ferocious-looking monster.
Snowball and I had had enough of it when we
reached camp, well after dark; but Jock I am not so
sure of : his invincible keenness seemed at times to
have something in it of mute reproach — the tinge of
disappointment in those they love which great hearts
feel, and strive to hide ! I never outstayed Jock, and
never once knew him ' own up ' that he had had
enough.
No two days were quite alike ; yet many were alike
in the sense that they were successful without hitch
and without interest to any but the hunters ; many
others were marked by chases in which Jock's part —
most essential to success — too closely resembled that
of other days to be worth repeating. On that day
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he had, as usual, been the one to see the wildebeeste
and had ' given the word ' in time ; the rest was only
one straight shot. That was fair partnership in which
both were happy ; but there was nothing to talk
about.
There was very little wanton shooting with us,
for when we had more fresh meat than was re-
quired, as often happened, it was dried as ' bultong ' for
the days of shortage which were sure to come.
I started off early next morning with the boys to
bring in the meat, and went on foot, giving Snow-
ball a rest, more or less deserved. By nine o'clock
the boys were on their way back, and leaving
them to take the direct route I struck away east-
wards along the line of the pools, not expecting
much and least of all dreaming that fate had one of
the worst days in store for us : " From cloudless
heavens her lightnings glance " did not occur to
my mind as we moved silently along in the bright
sunshine.
We passed the second pool, loitering a few minutes
in the cool shade of the evergreens to watch the green
pigeons feeding on the wild figs and peering down
curiously at us ; then moved briskly into more open
ground. It is not wise to step too suddenly out of the
dark shade into strong glare, and it may have been that
act of carelessness that enabled the koodoo to get off
before I saw them. They cantered away in a string with
the cows in the rear, between me and two full grown
bulls. It was a running shot — end on — and the last
of the troop, a big cow, gave a stumble : but catching
324
herself up again she cantered off slowly. Her
body was all bunched up and she was pitching
greatly, and her hind legs kept flying out in
irregular kicks, much as you may see a horse kick
out when a blind fly is biting him.
There was no time for a second shot and we started
off in hot pursuit ; and fifty yards further on where
there was a clear view I saw that the koodoo was
going no faster than an easy canter, and Jock was close
behind.
Whether he was misled by the curious action, and
believed there was a broken leg to grip, or was simply
over bold, it is impossible to know. Whatever the
reason, he jumped for one of the hind legs, and at the
same moment the koodoo lashed out viciously. One
foot struck him under the jaw close to the throat,
' whipped ' his head and neck back like a bent switch,
and hurled him somersaulting backwards.
I have the impression — as one sees oneself in a night-
mare— of a person throwing up his arms and calling
the name of his child as a train passed over it.
Jock lay limp and motionless, with the blood oozing
from mouth, nose, and eyes. I recollect feeling for
his heart-beat and breath, and shaking him roughly
and calling him by name ; then, remembering the
pool near by, I left him in the shade of a tree, filled
my hat with water, ran back again and poured it
over him and into his mouth, shaking him again to
rouse him, and several times pressing his sides —
bellows fashion — in a ridiculous effort to
restore breathing.
32S
The old hat was leaky and I had to grip the rough-
cut ventilations to make it hold any water at all, and
I was returning with a second supply when with a
great big heart-jump, I saw Jock heel over from his
side and with his forelegs flat on the ground raise
himself to a resting position, his head wagging groggily
and his eyes blinking in a very dazed way.
He took no notice when I called his name, but at
the touch of my hand his ears moved up and the stumpy
tail scraped feebly in the dead leaves. He was stone
deaf ; but I did not know it then. He lapped a little
of the water, sneezed the blood away and licked his
chops ; and then, with evident effort, stood up.
But this is the picture which it is impossible to
forget. The dog was still so dazed and shaken that he
reeled slightly, steadying himself by spreading his legs
well apart, and there followed a few seconds' pause in
which he stood thus ; and then he began to walk
forward with the uncertain staggery walk of a toddling
child. His jaws were set close ; his eyes were beady
black, and he looked ' fight ' all over. He took no
notice of me ; and I, never dreaming that he was
after the koodoo, watched the walk quicken to a
laboured trot before I moved or called; but he
paid no heed to the call. For the first time in his
life there was rank open defiance of orders, and he
trotted slowly along with his nose to the ground.
Then I understood ; and, thinking he was maddened by
the kick and not quite responsible for himself, and —
more than that — admiring his pluck far too much
to be angry, I ran to bring him back ; but at a turn in
326
his course he saw me coming, and this time he obeyed
the call and signal instantly, and with a limp air of
disappointment followed quietly back to the tree.
The reason for Jock's persistent disobedience that day
was not even suspected then ; I put everything down
to the kick ; and he seemed to me to be ' all wrong,'
but indeed there was excuse enough for him. Never-
theless it was puzzling that at times he should ignore
me in positively contemptuous fashion, and at others
obey with all his old readiness : I neither knew he
was deaf, nor realised that the habit of using certain
signs and gestures when I spoke to him — and even of
using them in place of orders when silence was im-
perative— had made him almost independent of the
word of mouth. From that day he depended wholly
upon signs ; for he never heard another sound.
Jock came back with me and lay down ; but he was
not content. Presently he rose again and remained
standing with his back to me, looking steadily in the
direction taken by the koodoo. It was fine to see
the indomitable spirit, but I did not mean to let him
try again ; the koodoo was as good as dead no doubt,
yet a hundred koodoo would not have tempted me
to risk taking him out : to rest him and get him back
to the camp was the only thought. I was feeling
very soft about the dog then. And while I sat thus
watching him and waiting for him to rest and recover,
once more and almost within reach of me he started
off again. But it was not as he had done before :
this time he went with a spring and a rush, and with
head lowered and meaning business. In vain I called
327
and followed : he outpaced me and left me in a few
strides.
The koodoo had gone along the right bank of the
nga which, commencing just below the pool, ex-
tended half a mile or more down the flat valley. Jock's
rush was magnificent, but it was puzzling, and his
direction was even more so ; for he made straight for
the donga.
I ran back for the rifle and followed, and he had
already disappeared down the steep bank of the donga
when, through the trees on the opposite side, I saw
a koodoo cow moving along at a slow cramped walk.
The donga was a deep one with perpendicular sides,
and in places even overhanging crumbling banks,
and I reached it as Jock, slipping and struggling,
worked his way up the other wall writhing and climb-
ing through the tree roots exposed by the floods.
As he rushed out the koodoo saw him and turned ;
there was just a chance — a second of time : a foot of
space — before he got in the line of fire ; and I took it.
One hind leg gave way, and in the short sidelong
stagger that followed Jock jumped at the koodoo's
throat and they went down together.
It took me several minutes to get through the donga,
and by that time the koodoo was dead and Jock was
standing, wide-mouthed and panting, on guard at
its head : the second shot had been enough.
It was an unexpected and puzzling end ; and, in a
way, not a welcome one, as it meant delay in getting
back. After the morning's experience there was not
much inclination for the skinning and cutting
328
up of a big animal and I set to work gathering branches
and grass to hide the carcase, meaning to send the
boys back for it.
But the day's experiences were not over yet : a
low growl from Jock made me look sharply round, to
see half a dozen kaffirs coming through the bush with
a string of mongrel hounds at their heels.
So that was the explanation of the koodoo's return
to us ! The natives, a hunting party, had heard the
shot and coming along in hopes of meat had met and
headed off the wounded koodoo, turning her back
almost on her own tracks. There was satisfaction in
having the puzzle solved, but the more practical point
was that here was all the help I wanted ; and the boys
readily agreed to skin the animal and carry the four
quarters to the camp for the gift of the rest.
Then my trouble began with Jock. He flew at the
first of the kaffir dogs that sneaked up to sniff at the
koodoo. Shouting at him produced no effect what-
ever, and before I could get hold of him he had mauled
the animal pretty badly. After hauling him off I
sat down in the shade, with him beside me ; but there
were many dogs, and a succession of affairs, and I,
knowing nothing of his deafness, became thoroughly
exasperated and surprised by poor old Jock's behaviour.
His instinct to defend our kills, which was always
strong, was roused that day beyond control, and his
hatred of kaffir dogs — an implacable one in any case —
made a perfect fury of him ; still, the sickening awful
feeling that came over me as he lay limp and lifeless
was too fresh, and it was not possible to be really angry ;
329
and after half a dozen of the dogs had been badly
handled there was something so comical in the way
they sheered off and eyed Jock that I could only laugh.
They sneaked behind bushes and tried to circumvent
him in all sorts of ways, but fled precipitately as soon
as he moved a step or lowered his head and humped
his shoulders threateningly. Even the kaffir owners,
who had begun to look glum, broke into appreciative
laughter and shouts of admiration for the white man's
dog.
Jock kept up an unbroken string of growls, not loud,
of course, but I could feel them going all the while
like a volcano's rumbling as my restraining hand rested
on him, and when the boys came up to skin the koodoo
I had to hold him down and shake him sharply. The
dog was mad with fight ; he bristled all over ; and
no patting or talking produced more than a flicker
of his ears. The growling went on ; the hair stood
up ; the tail was quite unresponsive ; his jaws were set
like a vice; and his eyes shone like two black diamonds.
He had actually struggled to get free of my hand when
the boys began to skin, and they were so scared by his
resolute attempt that they would not start until I put
him down between my knees and held him.
I was sitting against a tree only three or four yards
from the koodoo, and the boys, who had lighted a fire
in anticipation of early tit-bits which would grill
while they worked, were getting along well with the
skinning, when one of them saw fit to pause in order
to hold forth in the native fashion on the glories of
the chase and the might of the white man. Jock's
33°
head lay on his paws and his mouth was shut like a
rat-trap ; his growling grew louder as the bombastic
nigger, all unconscious of the wicked watching eyes
behind him, waved his blood-stained knife and warmed
to his theme.
" Great you thought yourself," proclaimed the
orator, addressing the dead koodoo in a long rigmarole
which was only partly understood by me but evidently
much approved by the other boys as they stooped to
their work, " Swift of foot and strong of limb. But the
white man came, and — there ! " I could not make
out the words with any certainty ; but whatever the last
word was, it was intended as a dramatic climax, and
to lend additional force to his point the orator let fly
a resounding kick on the koodoo's stomach.
The effect was quite electrical ! Like an arrow
from the bow Jock flew at him ! The warning shout
came too late, and as Jock's teeth fastened in him behind
the terrified boy gave a wild bound over the koodoo,
carrying Jock like a streaming coat-tail behind him.
The work was stopped and the natives drew off in
grave consultation. I thought that they had had
enough of Jock for one day and that they would
strike work and leave me, probably returning later
on to steal the meat while I went for help from the
waggons. But it turned out that the consultation
was purely medical, and in a few minutes I had an
interesting exhibition of native doctoring. They laid
the late orator out face downwards, and one burly
* brother ' straddled him across the small of the back ;
then after a little preliminary examination of the four
331
slits left by Jock's fangs, he proceeded to cauterise
them with the glowing ends of sundry sticks which
an assistant took from the fire and handed to him as
required. The victim flapped his hands on the ground
and hallooed out " My babo ! My babo ! " but he
did not struggle ; and the operator toasted away with
methodical indifference.
The orator stood it well !
I took Jock away to the big tree near the pool : it
was evident that he, too, had had enough of it for one
day.
THERE was no hunting for several days after the
affair with the koodoo cow. Jock looked worse
the following day than he had done since recover-
ing consciousness : his head and neck swelled up
so that chewing was impossible and he could only
lap a little soup or milk, and could hardly bend
his neck at all.
On the morning of the second day Jim Makokel'
came up with his hostile-looking swagger and a cross
worried look on his face, and in a half-angry and
wholly disgusted tone jerked out at me, " The dog is
deaf. I say so ! Me ! Makokela ! Jock is deaf.
He does not hear when you speak. Deaf ! yes,
deaf ! "
Jim's tone grew fiercer as he warmed up ; he seemed
to hold me responsible. The moment the boy spoke
I knew it was true — it was the only possible explana-
tion of many little things; nevertheless I jumped up
hurriedly to try him in a dozen ways, hoping to find
that he could hear something. Jim was right ; he
was really stone deaf. It was pathetic to find how
each little subterfuge that drew his eyes from me left
333
him out of reach : it seemed as if a link had broken
between us and I had lost my hold. That was wrong,
however ! In a few days he began to realise the loss
of hearing ; and after that, feeling so much greater
dependence on sight, his watchfulness increased so
that nothing escaped him. None of those who saw
him in that year, when he was at his very best, could
bring themselves to believe that he was deaf. With
me it made differences both ways : something lost,
and something gained. If he could hear nothing,
he saw more ; the language of signs developed ; and
taking it all round I believe the sense of mutual de-
pendence for success and of mutual understanding
was greater than ever.
Snowball went on to the retired list at the end of
the next trip.
Joey the Smith stood at the forge one day, trimming
a red-hot horse-shoe, when I rode up and dropping
the reins over Snowball's head, sang out " Morning,
Joey ! "
Joey placed the chisel on the shoe with nice calcula-
tion of the amount he wanted to snip off ; his assistant
boy swung the big hammer, and an inch cube of red-
hot iron dropped off. Then Joey looked up with, what
seemed to me, a conflict of innocent surprise and stifled
amusement in his face. The boy also turned to look, and
— the insignificant incident is curiously unforgettable
— trod upon the piece of hot iron. " Look where
you're standing," said Joey reproachfully, as the smoke
and smell of burning skin-welt rose up ; and the boy
with a grunt of disgust, such as we might give at a
334
burned boot, looked to see what damage had been
done to his ' unders.' It gave me an even better
idea of a nigger's feet than those thorn digging opera-
tions when we had to cut through a solid whitish welt
a third of an inch thick.
Joey grinned openly at the boy ; but he was thinking
of Snowball.
" I wonder you had the heart, Joey, I do indeed ! "
I said, shaking my head at him.
" You would have him, lad, there was no re-
fusin' you ! You arst so nice and wanted him so
bad ! "
" But how could you bear to part with him, Joey ?
It must have been like selling one of the family."
" 'Es, Boy, 'es ! We are a bit stoopid — our lot !
Is he still such a fool, or has he improved any with
you ? "
" Joey, I've learned him — full up to the teeth.
If he stops longer he will become wicked, like me ;
and you would not be the ruin of an innocent young
thing trying to earn a living honestly, if he can ? "
" Come round behind the shop, Boy. I got a
pony '11 suit you proper ! " He gave a hearty laugh,
and added " You can always get what you arsk for —
if it ain't worth having. Moril ! Don't arsk ! I
never offered you Snowball. This one's different.
You can have him at cost price ; and that's an old twelve
month account ! Ten pounds. He's worth four of
it ! Salted at? shootin' ! Shake ! " and I gripped
335
his grimy old fist gladly, knowing it was jonnick and
' a square deal.'
That was Mungo Park — the long, strong, low-built,
half-bred Basuto pony — well-trained and without guile.
I left Snowball with his previous owner, to use as
required, and never called back for him ; and if this
should meet the eye of Joey the Smith he will know
that I no longer hope his future life will be spent in
stalking a wart-eyed white horse in a phantom Bush-
veld. Mungo made amends.
There was a spot between the Komati and Crocodile
rivers on the north side of the road where the white
man seldom passed and nature was undisturbed ; few
knew of water there ; it was too well concealed between
deep banks and the dense growth of thorns and large
trees.
The spot always had great attractions for me apart
from the big game to be found there. I used to steal
along the banks of this lone water and watch the smaller
life of the bush. It was a delightful field for naturalist
and artist, but unfortunately we thought little of such
things, and knew even less ; and now nothing is left
from all the glorious opportunities but the memory of
an endless fascination and a few facts that touch the
human chord and will not submit to be forgotten.
There were plenty of birds — guinea-fowl, pheasant,
partridge, knoorhaan and bush pauw. Jock accom-
panied me of course when I took the fowling-piece,
but merely for companionship ; for there was no need
for him on these occasions. I shot birds to get a
change of food and trusted to wa]king them up along
336
the river banks and near drinking pools ; but one
evening Jock came forward of his own accord to help
me — a sort of amused volunteer ; and after that I
always used him.
He had been at my heels, apparently taking little
interest in the proceedings from the moment the first
bird fell and he saw what the game was ; probably
he was intelligently interested all the time but con-
sidered it nothing to get excited about. After a time
I saw him turn aside from the line we had been taking
and stroll off at a walking pace, sniffing softly the while.
When he had gone a dozen yards he stopped and
looked back at me ; then he looked in front again with
his head slightly on one side, much as he would have
done examining a beetle rolling his ball.
There were no signs of anything, yet the grass was
short for those parts, scarce a foot high, and close,
soft and curly. A brace of partridges rose a few feet
from Jock, and he stood at ease calmly watching them,
without a sign or move to indicate more than amused
interest. The birds were absurdly tame and sailed
so quietly along that I hesitated at first to shoot ; then
the noise of the two shots put up the largest number
of partridges I have ever seen in one lot, and a line of
birds rose for perhaps sixty yards across our front.
There was no wild whirr and confusion : they rose
in leisurely fashion as if told to move on, sailing in-
finitely slowly down the slope to the thorns near the
donga. Running my eye along the line I counted
them in twos up to between thirty and forty ; and that
could not have been more than half. How many
337 Y
coveys had packed there, and for what purpose, and
whether they came every evening, were questions
which one would like answered now ; but they were
not of sufficient interest then to encourage a second
visit another evening. The birds sailed quietly into
the little wood, and many of them alighted on branches
of the larger trees. It is the only time I have seen a
partridge in a tree ; but when one comes to think it
out, it seems common-sense that, in a country teeming
with vermin and night-prowlers, all birds should sleep
off the ground. Perhaps they do !
There were numbers of little squirrel-like creatures
there too. Our fellows used to call them ground-
squirrels and " tree-rats " ; because they live under-
ground, yet climb trees readily in search of food ;
they were little fellows like meerkats, with bushy
tails ringed in brown, black and white, of which the
waggon boys made decorations for their slouch hats.
Jock wanted a go at them : they did not appear
quite so much beneath notice as the birds.
Along the water's edge one came on the lagavaans,
huge repulsive water-lizards three to four feet long,
like crocodiles in miniature, sunning themselves in
some favourite spot in the margin of the reeds or on
the edge of the bank ; they give one the jumps by
the suddenness of their rush through the reeds and
plunge into deep water.
There were otters too, big black-brown fierce
fellows, to be seen swimming silently close under the
banks. I got a couple of them, but was always nervous
of letting Jock into the water after things, as one never
338
knew where the crocodile lurked. He got an ugly
bite from one old dog-otter which I shot in shallow
water ; and, mortally wounded as he was, the otter put
up a rare good fight before Jock finally hauled him out.
Then there were the cane-rats, considered by some
most excellent and delicate of meats, as big and tender
as small sucking-pigs. The cane-rat, living and dead,
was one of the stock surprises, and the subject of jokes
and tricks upon the unsuspecting : there seems to be
no sort of ground for associating the extraordinary
fat thing, gliding among the reeds or swimming silently
under the banks, with either its live capacity of rat or
its more attractive dead role of roast sucking-pig.
The hardened ones enjoyed setting this treat before
the hungry and unsuspecting, and, after a hearty
meal, announcing — " That was roast rat : good, isn't
it ? " The memory of one experience gives me water
in the gills now ! It was unpleasant, but not equal
to the nausea and upheaval which supervened when,
after a very savoury stew of delicate white meat, we
were shown the fresh skin of a monkey hanging from
the end of the buck-rails, with the head drooping
forward, eyes closed, arms dangling lifeless, and limp
open hands — a ghastly caricature of some hanged
human, shrivelled and shrunk within its clothes of
skin. I felt like a cannibal.
The water tortoises in the silent pools, grotesque
muddy fellows, were full of interest to the quiet
watcher, and better that way than as the " turtle
soup " which once or twice we ventured on and tried
to think was good !
339
There were certain hours of the day when it was
more pleasant and profitable to lie in the shade and rest.
It is the time of rest for the Bushveld — that spell
about middle-day ; and yet if one remains quiet, there
is generally something to see and something worth
watching. There were the insects on the ground
about one which would not otherwise be seen at all ;
there were caterpillars clad in spiky armour made of
tiny fragments of grass — fair defence no doubt against
some enemies and a most marvellous disguise ; other
caterpillars clad in bark, impossible to detect until
they moved ; there were grasshoppers like leaves, and
irregularly shaped stick insects, with legs as bulky as
the body, and all jointed by knots like irregular twigs
— wonderful mimetic creatures.
Jock often found these things for me. Something
would move and interest him ; and when I saw him
stand up and examine a thing at his feet, turning it
over with his nose or giving it a scrape with his paw,
it was usually worth joining in the inspection. The
Hottentot-gods always attracted him as they reared
up and ' prayed ' before him ; quaint things, with tiny
heads and thin necks and enormous eyes, that sat up
with forelegs raised to pray, as a pet dog sits up and
begs.
One day I was watching the ants as they travelled
along their route — sometimes stopping to hobnob with
those they met, sometimes hurrying past, and some-
times turning as though sent back on a message or
reminded of something forgotten — when a little dry
brown bean lying in a spot of sunlight gave a jump
34°
of an inch or two. At first it seemed that I must have
unknowingly moved some twig or grass stem that
flicked it ; but as I watched it there was another^
vigorous jump. I took it up and examined it but there
was nothing unusual about it, it was just a common
light brown bean with no peculiarities or marks ; it
was a real puzzle, a most surprising and ridiculous one.
I found half a dozen more in the same place ; but it was
some days before we discovered the secret. Domiciled
in each of them was a very small but very energetic
worm, with a trap-door or stopper on his one end,
so artfully contrived that it was almost impossible
with the naked eye to locate the spot where the hole
was. The worm objected to too much heat and if
the beans were placed in the sun or near the fire the
weird astonishing jumping would commence.
The beans were good for jumping for several months,
and once in Delagoa, one of our party put some on a
plate in the sun beside a fellow who had been doing him-
self too well for some time previously : he had become
a perfect nuisance to us and we could not get rid of him.
He had a mouth full of bread, and a mug of coffee on
the way to help it down, when the first bean jumped.
He gave a sort of peck, blinked several times to clear
his eyes, and then with his left hand pulled slightly at his
collar, as though to ease it. Then came another jump,
and his mouth opened slowly and his eyes got big. The
plate being hollow and glazed was not a fair field for the
jumpers — they could not escape ; and in about half a
minute eight or ten beans were having a
rough and tumble.
341
With a white scared face our guest slowly lowered
his mug, screened his eyes with the other hand, and
after fighting down the mouthful of bread, got up and
walked off without a word.
We tried to smother our laughter, but some one's
choking made him look back and he saw the whole
lot of us in various stages of convulsions. He made
one rude remark, and went on ; but every one he met
that day made some allusion to beans, and he took the
Durban steamer next morning.
The insect life was prodigious in its numbers and
variety ; and the birds, the beasts, and the reptiles were
all interesting. There is a goodness-knows-what-will-
turn-up-next atmosphere about the Bushveld which
is, I fancy, unique. The story of the curate, armed
with a butterfly net, coming face to face with a black-
maned lion may or may not be true — in fact ; but it
is true enough as an illustration ; and it is no more
absurd or unlikely than the meeting at five yards of
a lioness and a fever-stricken lad carrying a white
green-lined umbrella — which is true ! The boy stood
and looked : the lioness did the same. " She seemed
to think I was not worth eating, so she walked off," he
used to say — and he was Trooper 242 of the Imperial
Light Horse who went back under fire for wounded
comrades and was killed as he brought the last one
^i :;g|? °Ul' had an old cross-bred
.1 ••'••$ Hottentot-Bushman boy
once — one could not tell
342
which lot he favoured — who was full of the folklore
stories and superstitions of his strange and dying race, ,.,
which he half humorously and half seriously blended
with his own knowledge and hunting experiences. Jant je \
had the ugly wrinkled dry-leather face of his breed, with
hollow cheeks, high cheek-bones, and little pinched eyes,
so small and so deeply set that no one ever saw the
colour of them ; the pepper-corns of tight wiry wool
that did duty for hair were sparsely scattered over
his head like the stunted bushes in the desert ; and his
face and head were seamed with scars too numerous
to count, the souvenirs of his drunken brawls. He
resembled a tame monkey rather than a human
creature, being, like so many of his kind without the
moral side or qualities of human nature which go to
mark the distinction between man and monkey. He
was normally most cheery and obliging ; but it meant
nothing, for in a moment the monkey would peep
out, vicious, treacherous and unrestrained. Honesty,
sobriety, gratitude, truth, fidelity, and humanity were
impossible to him : it seemed as if even the germs
were not there to cultivate, and the material with which
to work did not exist. He had certain make-believe
substitutes, which had in a sense been grafted on to his
nature, and appeared to work, while there was no real
use for them ; they made a show, until they were
tested ; one took them for granted, as long as they
were not disproved : it was a skin graft only, and there
seemed to be no real ' union ' possible between them
and the tough alien stock. He differed in character
and nature from the Zulu as much as he did from the
343
white man ; he was as void of principle as —
well, as his next of kin, the monkey ; yet, while
without either shame of, or contempt for,
cowardice ; he was wholly without fear of physical
danger, having a sort of fatalist's indifference to it ;
and that was something to set off against his moral
deficit. I put Jantje on to wash clothes the day he
turned up at the waggons to look for work, and as he
knelt on the rocks stripped to the waist I noticed a very
curious knotted line running up his right side from
the lowest rib into the armpit. The line was whiter
than his yellow skin ; over each rib there was a knot
or widening in the line ; and under the arm there was a
big splotchy star — all markings of some curious wound.
He laughed almost hysterically, his eyes disappearing
altogether and every tooth showing, as I lifted his arm
to investigate ; and then in high-pitched falsetto tones
he shouted in a sort of ecstasy of delight, " Die ouw
buffels, Baas ! Die buffels bull, Baas ! "
" Buffalo ! Did he toss you ? " I asked.
Jantje seemed to think it the best joke in the world
and with constant squeals of laughter and graphic
gestures gabbled off his account.
His master, it appears, had shot at and slightly
wounded the buffalo, and Jantje had been placed at
one exit from the bush to prevent the herd from break-
ing away. As they came towards him he fired at the
foremost one ; but before he could reload the wounded
bull made for him and he ran for dear life to the only
tree near — one of the flat-topped thorns. He heard
the thundering hoofs and the snorting breath behind,
344
but raced on hoping to reach the tree and dodge
behind it ; a few yards short, however, the bull caught
him, in spite of a jump aside, and flung him with
one toss right on top of the thorn tree.
When he recovered consciousness he was lying face
upwards in the sun, with nothing to rest his head on
and only sticks and thorns around him. He did not
know where he was or what had happened ; he tried
to move, but one arm was useless and the effort made
him slip and sag, and he thought he was falling through
the earth. Presently he heard regular tramping under-
neath him and the breath of a big animal : and the
whole incident came back to him. By feeling about
cautiously he at last located the biggest branch under
him, and getting a grip on this he managed to turn
over and ease his right side. He could then see the
buffalo : it had tramped a circle round the tree and
was doing sentry over him. Now and again the huge
creature stopped to sniff, snort and stamp, and then
resumed the round, perhaps the reverse way. The
buffalo could not see him and never once looked
up, but glared about at its own accustomed level ;
and, relying entirely on its sense of smell, it kept up
the relentless vengeful watch for hours, always
stopping in the same place, to leeward, to satisfy
itself that the enemy had not escaped.
Late in the afternoon the buffalo, for the first
time, suddenly came to a stand on the windward^H
side of the tree, and after a good minute's silence
turned its tail on Jantje and with angry sniffs and
tosses stepped swiftly and resolutely forward some paces.
345
There was nothing to be seen; but Jantje judged the
position and yelled out a warning to his master whom he
guessed to be coming through the bush to look for him,
and at the same time he made what noise he could in the
tree top to make the buffalo think he was coming down.
The animal looked round from time to time with
swings and tosses of the head and threatening angry
sneezes, much as one sees a cow do when standing
between her young calf and threatened danger : it
was defending Jantje, for his own purposes, and
facing the danger.
For many minutes there was dead silence : no answer
came to Jantje's call, and the bull stood its ground
glaring and sniffing towards the bush. At last there
was a heavy thud below, instantly followed by the
report of the rifle — the bullet came faster than the
sound ; the buffalo gave a heavy plunge and with a
grunting sob slid forward on its chest.
Round the camp fire at night Jantje used to tell tales
in which fact, fancy, and superstition were curiously
mingled ; and Jantje when not out of humour was
free with his stories. The boys, for whose benefit
they were told, listened open-mouthed ; and I often
stood outside the ring of gaping boys at their fire, an
interested listener.
The tale of his experiences with the honey-bird
which he had cheated of its share was the first I heard
him tell. Who could say how much was fact, how
much fancy, and how much the superstitions of his
race ? Not even Jantje knew that ! He believed it
all.
34°"
The Honey-bird met him one day with cheer)
cheep-cheep, and as he whistled in reply it led him to
an old tree where the beehive was : it was a small
hive, and Jantje was hungry ; so he ate it all. All
the time he was eating, the bird kept fluttering about,
calling anxiously, and expecting some honey or fat
young bees to be thrown out for it ; and when he
had finished, the bird came down and searched in vain
for its share. As he walked away the guilty Jantje
noticed that the indignant bird followed him with
angry cries and threats.
All day long he failed to find game ; whenever
there seemed to be a chance an angry honey-bird
would appear ahead of him and cry a warning to the
game ; and that night as he came back, empty-handed
and hungry, all the portents of bad luck came to him
in turn. An owl screeched three times over his head ;
a goat-sucker with its long wavy wings and tail
flitted before him in swoops and rings in most ghostly
silence — and there is nothing more ghostly than that
flappy wavy soundless flitting of the goat-sucker ; a
jackal trotted persistently in front looking back at
him ; and a striped hyena, humpbacked, savage, and
solitary, stalked by in silence, and glared.
At night as he lay unable to sleep the bats came
and made faces at him ; a night adder rose up before
his face and slithered out its forked tongue — the two
black beady eyes glinting the firelight back ; and which-
ever way he looked there was a honey-bird, silent
and angry, yet with a look of satisfaction, as it watched.
So it went all night : no sleep for him ; no rest !
347
In the morning he rose early and taking his gun
and chopper set out in search of hives : he would give
all to the honey-bird he had cheated, and thus make
amends.
He had not gone far before, to his great delight,
there came a welcome chattering in answer to his
low whistle, and the busy little fellow flew up to show
himself and promptly led the way, going ahead ten
to twenty yards at a flight. Jantje followed eagerly
until they came to a small donga with a sandy bottom,
and then the honey-bird calling briskly, fluttered from
tree to tree on either bank, leading him on.
Jantje, thinking the hive must be near by, was walk-
ing slowly along the sandy bed and looking upwards in
the trees, when something on the ground caught his
eye and he sprang back just as the head of a big puff-
adder struck where his bare foot had been a moment
before. With one swing of his chopper he killed it ;
he took the skin off for an ornament, the poison-
glands for medicine, and the fangs for charms, and then
whistled and looked about for the honey-bird ; but
it had gone.
A little later on, however, he came upon another,
and it led him to a big and shady wild fig-tree. The
honey-bird flew to the trunk itself and cheeped and
chattered there, and Jantje put down his gun
and looked about for an easy place to climb. As
he peered through the foliage he met a pair of
large green eyes looking full into his : on a big limb
of the tree lay a tiger, still as death, with its head
resting on its paws, watching him with a cat-like
348
eagerness for its prey. Jantje hooked his toe in the
reim sling of his old gun and slowly gathered it up
without moving his eyes from the tiger's, and back-
ing away slowly, foot by foot, he got out into the
sunshine and made off as fast as he could.
It was the honey-bird's revenge : he knew it then !
He sat down on some bare ground to think what
next to do ; for he knew he must die if he did not find
honey and make good a hundred times what he had
cheated.
All day long he kept meeting honey-birds and follow-
ing them ; but he would no longer follow them into
the bad places, for he could not tell whether they
were new birds or the one he had robbed ! Once he
had nearly been caught ; the bird had perched on an
old ant-heap, and Jantje, thinking there was a ground
hive there, walked boldly forward. A small misshapen
tree grew out of the ant-heap, and one of the twisted
branches caught his eye because of the
thick ring around it : it was the coil
of a long green mamba; and far below
that, half hidden by the leaves, hung
the snake's head with the neck gathered
in half-loop coils ready to strike at him.
After that Jantje kept in the open,
searching for himself among rocks and
in all the old dead trees for the tell-tale stains that
mark the hive's entrance ; but he had no luck, and
when he reached the river in the early afternoon he
was glad of a cool drink and a place to rest.
For a couple of hours lie had seen no honey-birds,
349
and it seemed that at last his pursuer had given him
up, for that day at least. As he sat in the shade of
the high bank, however, with the river only a few
yards from his feet he heard again a faint chattering : it
came from the river-side beyond a turn in the bank, and
it was too far away for the bird to have seen Jantje
from where it called, so he had no doubt about this
being a new bird. It seemed to him a glorious piece
of luck that he should find honey by the aid of a
strange bird and be able to take half of it back to the
hive he had emptied the day before and leave it there
for the cheated bird.
There was a beach of pebbles and rocks between
the high bank and the river, and as Jantje walked along
it on the keen look-out for the bird, he spotted it
sitting on a root half-way down the bank some twenty
yards ahead. Close to where the chattering bird
perched there was a break in the pebbly beach, and
there shallow water extended up to the perpen-
r dicular bank. In the middle of this little stretch
of water, and conveniently placed as a stepping-
'^ stone, there was a black rock, and the bare-footed
'antje stepped noiselessly from stone to stone towards
it.
An alarmed cane-rat, cut off by Jantje from the
I river, ran along the foot of the bank to avoid him ; but
|when it reached the little patch of shallow water it
^suddenly doubled back in fright and raced under the
boy's feet into the river.
Jantje stopped ! He did not know why ; but there
seemed to be something wrong. Something had
350
frightened the cane-rat back on to him, and he stared
hard at the bank and the stretch of beach ahead of him.
Then the rock he meant to step on to gave a heave,
and a long blackish thing curved towards him ; he
sprang into the air as high as he could, and the
crocodile's tail swept under his feet !
Jantje fled back like a buck — the rattle on the stones
behind him and crash of reeds putting yards into every
bound.
For four days he stayed in camp waiting for some
one to find a hive and give him honey enough to make
his peace ; and then, for an old snuff-box and a little
powder, he bought a huge basket full of comb, young
and old, from a kaffir woman at one of the kraals
some miles away, and put it all at the foot of the tree
he had cleaned out.
Then he had peace.
The boys believed every word of that story : so,
I am sure, did Jantje himself. The buffalo story was
obviously true, and Jantje thought nothing of it :
the honey -bird story was not, yet he gloried in it ;
it touched his superstitious nature, and it was impossible
for him to tell the truth or to separate fact from
fancy and superstition.
How much of fact there may have been in it I cannot
say : honey-birds gave me many a wild goose chase,
but when they led to anything at all it was to hives,
and not to snakes, tigers and crocodiles. Perhaps it is
right to own up that I never cheated a honey-bird !
We pretended to laugh at the superstition, but we
left some honey all the same — just for luck ! After
351
all, as we used to say, the bird earned its share and
deserved encouragement.
Round the camp fire at nights it was no uncommon
thing to see some one jump up and let out with what-
ever was handiest at some poisonous intruder. There
was always plenty of dead wood about and we piled
on big branches and logs freely, and as the ends burnt
to ashes in the heart of the fire we kept pushing the
logs further in. Of course, dead trees are the home
of all sorts of ' creepy-crawly ' things, and as the log
warmed up and the fire eat into the decayed heart
and drove thick hot smoke through the cracks and corri-
dors and secret places in the logs the occupants would
come scuttling out at the butt ends. Small snakes
were common — the big ones usually clearing when
the log was first disturbed — and they slipped away into
the darkness giving hard quick glances about them ;
but scorpions, centipedes and all sorts of spiders were
by far the most numerous.
Occasionally in the mornings we found snakes
under our blankets, where they had worked in
during the night for the warmth of the human body ;
but no one was bitten, and one made a practice of
getting up at once, and with one movement, so that
unwelcome visitors should not be warned or provoked
by any preliminary rolling. The scorpions, centi-
pedes and tarantulas seemed to be more objectionable ;
but they were quite as anxious to get away as we were,
and it is wonderful how little damage is done.
One night when we had been watching them coming
out of a big honeycombed log like the animals from the
352
Ark, and were commenting on the astonishing number
and variety of these things, I heard Jantje conveying
in high-pitched tones fanciful bits of information to the
credulous waggon boys. When he found that we too
were listening — and Jantje had the storyteller's love for a
1 gallery ' — he turned our way and dropped into a jargon
of broken English, helped out with Hottentot-Dutch,
which it is impossible to reproduce in intelligible form.
He had made some allusion to ' the great battle,'
and when I asked for an explanation he told us the
story. It is well enough known in South Africa,
and similar stories are to be found in the folklore
of other countries, but it had a special interest for us
in that Jantje gave it as having come to him from his
own people. He called it " The Great Battle between
the Things of the Earth and the Things of the Air."
For a long time there had been jealousy between the
Things of the Earth and the Things of the Air, each
claiming superiority for themselves ; each could do
something the others could not do ; and each thought
their powers greater and their qualities superior.
One day a number of them happened to meet on an
open plain near the river's bank, and the game of brag
began again as usual. At last the Lion, who was very
cross, turned to the old Black Aasvogel, as he sat half
asleep on a dead tree, and challenged him.
" You only eat the dead : you steal where others
kill. It is all talk with you ; you will not fight ! "
The Aasvogel said nothing, but let his bald hea
and bare neck settle down between his shoulders,
and closed his eyes.
353 z
" He wakes up soon enough when we find him
squatting above the carcase," said the Jackal. " See
him flop along then."
" When we find him ! " the Aasvogel said, open-
ing his eyes wide. " Sneaking prowler of the night !
Little bastard of the Striped Thief ! "
" Come down and fight," snarled the Hyena angrily.
" Thief and scavenger yourself ! "
So the Things of the Air gathered about and joined
in backing the Black Aasvogel ; and the Things of the
Earth kept on challenging them to come down and
have it out ; but nobody could hear anything because
the Jackal yapped incessantly and the Go'way bird,
with its feathers all on end and its neck craned out,
screamed itself drunk with passion.
Then the Eagle spoke out :
" You have talked enough. Strike — strike for the
eyes ! " and he swept down close to the Lion's head,
but swerving to avoid the big paw that darted out at
him, he struck in passing at the Jackal, and took off
part of his ear.
" I am killed ! I am killed ! " screamed the Jackal,
racing for a hole to hide in. But the other beasts
laughed at him ; and when the Lion called them up
and bade them take their places in the field for the
great battle, the Jackal walked close behind him holding
his head on one side and showing each one what the
Eagle had done.
" Where is my place ? " asked the Crocodile, in a
soft voice, from the bank where no one had noticed
him come up.
354
The Things of the Earth that were near him
moved quietly away.
" Your place is in the water," the Lion answered.
" Coward and traitor whom no one trusts ! Who
would fight with his back to you ? "
The Crocodile laughed softly and rolled his green eyes
from one to another ; and they moved still further
away.
" What am I ? " asked the Ostrich. " Kindred
of the Birds, I am of the winged ones ; yet I cannot
fight with them ! "
" Let him fly ! " said the Jackal, grinning, " and we
shall then see to whom he belongs ! Fly, old Three
Sticks ! Fly ! "
The Ostrich ran at him, waltzing and darting with
wings outspread, but the Jackal dodged away under
the Lion and squealed out, " Take your feet off the
ground, Clumsy, and fly ! "
Then it was arranged that there should be two
Umpires, one for each party, and that the Umpires
should stand on two high hills where all could see
them. The Ostrich was made Umpire for the Things
of the Air, and as long as the fight went well with his
party he was to hold his head high so that the Things
of the Air might see the long thin neck upright and,
knowing that all was well, fight on.
The Jackal asked that he might be Umpire for the
Things of the Earth.
" You are too small to be seen ! " objected the Lion
gruffly.
" No ! No ! " urged the Jackal, " I will stand on
355
a big ant-heap and hold my bushy tail on high where
all will see it shining silver and gold in the sunlight."
" Good ! " said the Lion. " It is better so, perhaps,
for you would never fight ; and as soon as one begins
to run, others follow ! "
The Things of the Air gathered in their numbers,
and the Eagle led them, showing them how to make
\\ up for their weakness by coming swiftly down in
^numbers where they found their enemies alone or
weak ; how to keep the sun behind them so that it
would shine in their enemies' eyes and blind them ;
and how the loud-voiced ones should attack on the
rear and scream suddenly, while those with bill and
claw swooped down in front and struck at the eyes.
And for a time it went well with the Things of the
Air. The little birds and locusts and butterflies came
in clouds about the Lion and he could see nothing as
he moved from place to place ; and the Things of the
Earth were confused by these sudden attacks ; and,
giving up the fight, began to flee from their places.
Then the Jackal, believing that 'he would not be
found out, cheated : he kept his tail up to make them
think they were not beaten. The Lion roared to
them, so that all could hear, to watch the hill where
the Jackal stood and see the sign of victory ; and the
Things of the Earth, being strong, gathered together
again and withstood the enemy and drove them off.
The battle was going against the Things of the Air
when the Go'way bird came to the Eagle and said :
" It is the Jackal who has done this. Long ago we
had won ; but, Cheat and Coward, he kept his tail
356
aloft and his people have returned and are winning
now."
Then the Eagle, looking round the field, said, " Send
me the Bee."
And when the Bee came the Eagle told him what
to do ; and setting quietly about his work, as his habit
is, he made a circuit through the trees that brought
him to the hill where the Jackal watched from the
ant-heap.
While the Jackal stood there with his mouth open
and tongue out, laughing to see how his cheating had
succeeded, the Bee came up quietly behind and, as
Jantje put it, " stuck him from hereafter ! "
The Jackal gave a scream of pain and, tucking his
tail down, jumped from the ant-heap and ran away
into the bush ; and when the Things of the Earth
saw the signal go down they thought that all was lost,
and fled.
So was the Great Battle won !
MUNGO was not a perfect mount, but he was a great
improvement on Snowball ; he had a wretched walk,
and led almost as badly as his predecessor ; but this
did not matter so much because he could be driven
like a pack donkey and relied on not to play pranks.
In a gallop after game he was much faster than Snow-
ball, having a wonderfully long stride for so low a
pony.
A horse made a good deal of difference in the hunting
in many ways, not the least of which was that some
sort of excursion was possible on most days. One
could go further in the time available and, even if
delayed, still be pretty sure of catching up to the
waggons without much difficulty.
Sometimes after a long night's trekking I would start
off after breakfast for some * likely ' spot, off-saddle
there in a shady place, sleep during the heat of the day,
and after a billy of tea start hunting towards the waggons
in the afternoon.
358
It was in such a spot on the Komati River, a couple
of hundred yards from the bank, that on one occasion
I settled down to make up lost ground in the matter
of sleep, and with Mungo knee-haltered in good grass
and Jock beside me, I lay flat on my back with hat
covering my eyes and was soon comfortably asleep.
The sleep had lasted a couple of hours when I began
to dream that it was raining and woke up in the belief
that a hail storm — following the rain — was just break-
ing over me. I started up to find all just as it had been,
and the sunlight beyond the big tree so glaring as to
make the eyes ache. Through half-closed lids I saw
Mungo lying down asleep and made out Jock standing
some yards away quietly watching me.
With a yawn and stretch I lay back again ; sleep
was over but a good lazy rest was welcome : it had been
earned, and, most comforting of all, there was nothing
else to be done. In the doze that followed I was sur-
prised to feel quite distinctly something like a drop
of rain strike my leg, and then another on my hat.
" Hang it all, it is raining," I said, sitting up again
and quite wide awake this time. There was Jock
still looking at me, but only for the moment of moving,
it appears ; for, a minute later he looked up into
the tree above me with ears cocked, head on one side,
and tail held lazily on the horizontal and moving
slowly from time to time.
It was his look of interested amusement.
A couple of leaves fluttered down, and then the
half-eaten pip of a ' wooden orange ' struck me in
the face as I lay back again to see what was going on
359
above. The pip gave me the line, and away up among
the thick dark foliage I saw a little old face looking
down at me ; the quick restless eyes were watchfully
on the move, and the mouth partly opened in the shape
of an O — face and attitude together a vivid expression
of surprise and indignation combined with breathless
interest.
As my eyes fairly met those above me, the monkey
ducked its head forward and promptly ' made a face '
at me without uttering a sound. Then others showed
up in different places, and whole figures became visible
now as the monkeys stole softly along the branches
to get a better look at Jock and me : there were a
couple of dozen of them of all sizes.
They are the liveliest, most restless, and most in-
quisitive of creatures ; ludicrously nervous and excit-
able ; quick to chattering anger and bursts of hysterical
passion, which are intensely comical, especially when
they have been scared. They are creatures whose
method of progress most readily betrays them by the
swaying of a branch or quivering of leaves, yet they
can steal about and melt away at will, like small grey
ghosts, silent as the grave.
I had often tried to trap them, but never succeeded :
Jantje caught them, as he caught everything, with
cunning that out-matched his wilder kindred ; pit-
falls, nooses, whip-traps, fall-traps, foot-snares, drags,
slip-knots of all kinds, and tricks that I cannot now
remember, were in his repertory ; but he disliked
showing his traps, and when told to explain he would
half sulkily show one of the common kind.
360
The day he caught the monkey he was well pleased,-^
and may possibly have told the truth. Baboons andj
monkeys, he said, can count just like men, but they can
only count two ! If one man goes into a mealie field
and waits for them with a gun, their sentry will see
him, and he may wait for ever ; if two go and one
remains, it is useless, for they realise that only one has
come out where two went in ; but if three go in, one
may remain behind to lie in wait for them, for the
monkeys, seeing more than one return, will invade
the mealie field as soon as the two are safely out of
the way. That was only Jantje's explanation of the
well-known fact that monkeys and baboons know the
difference between one and more than one.
But, as Jantje explained, their cleverness helped him
to catch them. He went alone and came away alone,
leaving his trap behind, knowing that they were watch-
ing his every movement, but knowing also that their
intense curiosity would draw them to it the moment
it seemed safe. The trap he used was an old calabash
or gourd with a round hole in it about an inch in
diameter ; and a few pumpkin seeds and mealies and
a hard crust of bread, just small enough to get into
the calabash, formed the bait.
After fastening the gourd by a cord to a small
stump, he left it lying on its side on the ground where
he had been sitting. A few crumbs and seeds were
dropped near it and the rest placed in the gourd, with
one or two showing in the mouth. Then he walked
off on the side where he would be longest in view,
and when well out of sight sped round in a circuit
361
to a previously selected spot where he could get close
up again and watch.
The foremost monkey was already on the ground
when he got back and others were hanging from low
branches or clinging to the stems, ready to drop or
retreat. Then began the grunts and careful timid ap-
proaches, such as one sees in a party of children hunting
for the hidden ' ghost ' who is expected to appear sud-
denly and chase them ; next, the chattering garrulous
warnings and protests from the timid ones — the
females — in the upper branches ; the sudden start and
scurry of one of the youngsters ; and the scare com-
municated to all, making even the leader jump back
a pace ; then his angry grunt and loud scolding of the
frightened ones — angry because they had given him a
fright, and loud because he was reassuring himself.
After a pause they began the careful roundabout
approach and the squatting and waiting, making pre-
tences of not being particularly interested, while
their quick eyes watched everything ; then the deft
picking up of one thing — instantly dropped again,
as one picks up a roasted chestnut and drops it in the
same movement, in case it should be hot ; and finally
the greedy scramble and chatter.
I have seen all that, but not, alas, the successful
ending, when trying to imitate Jantje's methods.
Jantje waited until the tugs at the gourd became
serious, and then, knowing that the smaller things had
been taken out or shaken out and eaten and that
some enterprising monkey had put its arm into the
hole and grabbed the crust, he ran out.
362
A monkey rarely lets go any food it has grabbed,
and when, as in this case, the hand is jammed in a
narrow neck, the letting go cannot easily be done
instinctively or inadvertently; the act requires a
deliberate effort. So Jantje caught his monkey, and
flinging his ragged coat over the captive sat down to
make it safe. By pushing the monkey's arm deeper
into the gourd the crust became released and the hand
freed ; he then gradually shifted the monkey about
until he got the head into the shoulders of the loose
old coat, and thence into the sleeve ; and worked
away at this until he had the creature as helpless as a
mummy with the head appearing at the cuff-opening
and the body jammed in the sleeve like a bulging over-
stuffed sausage. The monkey struggled, screamed,
chattered, made faces, and cried like a child ; but
Jantje gripping it between his knees worked away
unmoved.
He next took the cord from the calabash and tied
one end securely round the monkey's neck, to the
shrinking horror of that individual, and the other end
to a stout bush stick about seven or eight feet long ;
and then slipped monkey cord and stick back through
the sleeve and had his captive safe ; the cord prevented
it from getting away, and the stick from getting too
close and biting him. When they sat opposite and
pulled faces at each other the family likeness was
surprising.
The grimacing little imps invariably tempt one to
tease or chase them, just to see their antics and methods ;
and when I rose, openly watching them and stepping
363
about for a better view, they abandoned the silent
methods and bounded freely from branch to branch
for fresh cover, always ducking behind something if
I pointed the gun or a stick or even my arm at them,
and getting into paroxysms of rage and leaning over
o slang and cheek me whenever it seemed safe.
Jock was full of excitement, thoroughly warmed up
and anxious to be at them, running about from place
to place to watch them, tacking and turning and jump-
ing for better views, and now and then running to the
trunk and scraping at it. Whenever he did this there
was a moment's silence ; the idea of playing a trick
on them struck me and I caught Jock up and put him in
the fork of a big main branch about six feet from the
ground. The effect was magical : the whole of the top
of the tree seemed to whip and rustle at once, and in
two seconds there was not a monkey left.
Then a wave in the top of a small tree some distance
off betrayed them and we gave chase — a useless romp-
ing school-boy chase. They were in the small trees
away from the river and it was easy to see and follow
them ; and to add to the fun and excitement I threw
stones at the branches behind them. Their excite-
ment and alarm then became hysterical, and as we
darted about to head them off they were several times
obliged to scamper a few yards along the ground to
avoid me and gain other trees. It was then that Jock
enjoyed himself most : he ran at them and made
flying leaps and snaps as they sprang up the trees out
of reach. It was like a caricature of children in one
of their make-believe chases ; the screams, grimaces,
364
and actions were so human that it would have seemed
like a tragedy had one of them been hurt. They got
away into the big trees once more, to Jock's disappoint-
ment but greatly to my relief ; for I was quite pumped
from the romp and laughter.
The river at this point was broken into several sluices
by islands formed of piles of rocks on which there were
a few stunted trees and dense growths of tall reeds,
and here and there little spits and fringes of white
sand were visible. There was plenty of small game
in that part, and it was a great place for crocodiles.
As we were then about half a mile below where
Mungo had been left I strolled along the bank on the
look out for a shot, frequently stopping to examine
suspicious-looking rocks on the sand spits or at the
borders of the reed fringes on the little islands.
The shooting of crocodiles was an act of war : it
was enmity and not sport or a desire for trophies that
prompted it, and when it did not interfere with other
chances we never missed a practice shot at these fellows.
I picked out several ' rocks,' so suspicious looking that
I would have had a shot at them had there been a
clear chance, and twice, while I was trying to make
them out, they slid silently into the water before there
was time to fire.
However, further on there came a better chance than
any : there was something so peculiar about the look
of this ' rock ' that I picked a good spot and sat down
to watch it ; and presently the part nearest me turned
slightly, just enough to show that it was a crocodile
lying on the flat sand with his nose towards me and his
365
tail hidden in the reeds. It was fifty yards away, and
from where I sat there was not much to aim at, as
a Martini bullet would glance from almost any part
of that polished hard case if it struck at such an
angle.
I was sitting on the bank above the shelving beach
of the river on which a dense mass of reeds grew, and the
waving feathery tops partly obscured the sight. I know
the bullet hit him somewhere, because he bounded with
astonishing strength and activity several feet in the
air and his tail slashed through the reeds like a mighty
scythe. The huge jaws opened and he gave a horrible
angry bellow — something between a roar and a snarl —
as he plunged into the river, sending masses of spray
and water flying every way. He made straight across,
apparently at me, swimming on top of the water at
amazing speed and throwing up a wave on either side
and a white swirl of foam from the propelling tail.
It was certainly a most surprising and unheard-of pro-
ceeding, and as he reached my side of the stream, and be-
cause hidden from me by the screen of reeds at my feet,
I turned and bolted. It may be that he came at me with
murderous intent ; or it may be that, blinded by rage
or pain, he came towards me simply because he happened
to be facing that way ; but, whatever the reason, it was
painfully clear that if he meant business he would be on
to me before it was possible to see him in the reeds.
That was enough for me. It had never occurred to
me that there was going to be any fun in this for the
crocodile ; but one's sense of humour and justice was
always being stimulated in the Bushveld.
366
With twenty yards of open ground between us I
turned and waited ; but no crocodile appeared, nor
was there a sound to be heard in the reeds. A few
minutes wait ; a cautious return ; a careful scrutiny ;
and then resort to sticks and stones ; but all to no
purpose : there was neither sign nor sound of the
crocodile ; and not being disposed to go into the
reeds to look for something which I did not want,
but might want me, I returned to Mungo — a little
wiser, it is true, but not unduly ' heady ' on that
account.
Half an hour's jogging along the bank having failed
to propose anything, I struck away from the river
taking a line through the bush towards camp, and
eventually came across a small herd of blue wildebeeste.
Mungo's pricked ears and raised head warned me ;
but the grass being high it was not easy to see enough
of them from the ground to place an effective shot,
and before a chance offered they moved off slowly.
I walked after them, leading Mungo and trying to get
a fair opening on slightly higher ground.
Presently half a dozen blackish things appeared
above the tall grass ; they were the heads of the wilde-
beeste— all turned one way, and all looking at us with
ears wide spread. Only the upper halves of the heads
were visible through the thinner tops of the grass,
and even an ordinary standing shot was not possible.
I had to go to a tree for support in order to tip-toe
for the shot, and whilst in the act of raising my rifle
the heads disappeared ; but I took chance and fired
just below where the last one had shown up.
367
The wildebeeste were out of sight, hidden by grass
six feet high, but a branch of the tree beside me served
as a horizontal bar and hoisting myself chin high I was
able to see them again. In front of us there was a dry
vlei quite free of bush, some two hundred yards across and
four hundred yards long, and the wildebeeste had gone
away to the right and were skirting the vlei, apparently
meaning to get round to the opposite side, avoiding
the direct cut across the vlei for reasons of their own.
It occurred to me that there must be a deep donga or
perhaps a mud hole in front which they were avoiding ;
but that it might be possible for me to get across, or
even half way across, in time to have another shot at
them the next time they stopped to look back, as they
were almost certain to do ; so I ran straight on.
One does not have to reason things out like that in
actual practice : the conclusion comes instantly, as
if by instinct, and no time is lost. To drop from the
branch, pick up the rifle, and start running were all
parts of one movement. Stooping slightly to prevent
my bobbing hat from showing up in the grass tops,
and holding the rifle obliquely before me as a sort of
snowplough to clear the grass from my eyes, I made as
good pace as the ground would allow.
No doubt the rifle held in front of me made it diffi-
cult to notice anything on the ground; but the con-
centrated stare across the vlei in the direction of the
galloping wildebeeste was quite as much the cause of
what followed. Going fast and stooping low, with all
my weight thrown forward, I ran right into a wilde-
beeste cow. My shot had wounded her through the
368
kidneys, completely paralysing the hind quarters, and
she had instantly dropped out of sight in the grass.
The only warning I got was a furious snort, and the
black looking monster with great blazing blood-shot
eyes rose up on its front legs as I ran into it.
To charge into a wounded wildebeeste ready to go for
you, just when your whole attention is concentrated
upon others two hundred yards beyond, is nearly as un-
pleasant as it is unexpected ; it becomes a question of
what will happen to you, rather than of what you will
do. That at any rate was my experience. The rifle,
if it had hindered me, also helped : held out at arms
length it struck the wildebeeste across the forehead
and the collision saved my chest from the horns.
There was an angry toss of the big head and the rifle
was twirled out of my hand, as one might flip a match
away.
I do not know exactly what happened : the impres-
sion is of a breathless second's whirl and scramble,
and then finding myself standing untouched five yards
away, with the half-paralysed wilde-
beeste squatting like a dog and strug-
gling to drag the useless hind quarters
along in its furious efforts to
get at Jock who had already
intervened to help me.
The rifle lay within the circle \j
of the big hooked horns ; and \\\
the squatting animal, making x\
a pivot of its hind quarters,^0
slewed round and round.
369 2 A
making savage lunges at Jock and great heaves
at me each time I tried to get the rifle.
It often happens that shots touching the kidneys
produce a paralysis, temporarily severe, which passes
off to a great extent after some minutes and leaves the
wounded animal well able to charge : it happened to
me some years later while trying to photograph a
wounded sable.
I tried to hook the gun out with a stick but the
wildebeeste swung round and faced me at once,
snapping the sticks and twirling them out of my hands
with surprising ease and quickness. I then tried
another game, and by making feint attacks from the
other side at last got the animal gradually worked away
from my gun ; and the next attempt at raking was
successful.
When the excitement was over and there was a
chance of taking stock of the position, I found that
Jock had a pretty good ' gravel rash ' on one hip and
a nasty cut down one leg ; he had caught the wildebeeste
by the nose the instant I ran into it, and it had ' wiped
the floor ' with him and flung him aside.
I found my bandolier with a broken buckle lying on
the grass ; one shirt sleeve was ripped open ;
the back of the right hand cut across ; hands
and knees were well grated ; and there were
lumps and bruises about the legs for which
there was no satisfactory explanation. I
must have scrambled out like an unwilling
participant in a dog fight.
It was a long job skinning,
37°
cutting up, and packing the wildebeeste, and when
we reached the outspan the waggons had already-
started and we had a long tramp before us to catch
them.
I drove Mungo before me, keeping him at an easy
jog. We had been going for possibly an hour and if
was quite dark, except for the stars and the young moon
low down on our right ; the road was soft and Mungo's
jogging paces sounded like floppy pats ; there was no
other sound at all, not even a distant rumble from
the waggons to cheer us ; Mungo must have been sick
of it and one might have thought him jogging in his
sleep but for the occasional pricking of his ears — a
trick that always makes me wonder how much more
do horses see in the dark than we do. I walked like
a machine, with rifle on shoulder and glad to be rid of
the broken bandolier, then transferred to Mungo ;
and Jock trotted at my heels.
This tired monotonous progress was disturbed by
Mungo : his ears pricked ; his head went up ; and
he stopped, looking hard at a big low bush on our left.
I gave him a tap with the switch, and without an
instant hesitation he dashed off to the right making
a hialf circle through the veld and coming into the road
again fifty yards ahead, and galloped away leaving a
rising column of dust behind him.
I stood and faced the bush that Mungo had shied
at, and the first thing that occurred to me was that
my bandolier and cartridges were with the pony.
Then Jock growled low and moved a few steps forward
and slightly to the right, also sheering off from that
371
bush. I felt that he was bristling all over, but there
was neither time nor light to watch him. I stepped
slowly sideways after him gripping the rifle and looking
hard at the bush.
Our line was much the same as Mungo's and would
take us some seven or eight paces off the road — more
than that was not possible owing to the barrier of
thorns on that side. When we got abreast of the bush
two large spots of pale light appeared in the middle
of it, apparently waist high from the ground.
It is impossible to forget the tense creepy feeling
caused by the dead stillness, the soft light, and the pale
expressionless glow of those eyes — the haunting mystery
of eyes and nothing more !
It is not unusual to see eyes in the night ; but this
was a * nervy ' occasion, and there is no other that
comes back with all the vividness and reality of the
experience itself, as this one does. And I was not the
only nervous one. Mungo incontinently bolted —
probably what he saw warranted it ; Jock, as ever,
faced it ; but when my foot touched his hind leg as
we sidled away he flew round with a convulsive jump.
He too was strung to concert pitch.
As we moved on and passed the reflecting angle of
the moon, the light of the eyes went out as suddenly
and silently as it had appeared. There was nothing
then to show me where danger lay ; but Jock knew,
and I kept a watch on him. He jogged beside me,
lagging slightly as if to cover our retreat, always
looking back. A couple of times he stopped entirely
and stood in the road, facing straight back and
372
THE HAUNTING MYSTERY OF EYES AXD NOTHING MORE
growling ; and I followed suit. He was in command ;
he knew !
There was nothing more. Gradually Jock's subdued
purring growl died down and the glances back became
fewer. I found Mungo a long way on, brought
to a standstill by the slipping of his load ; and we
caught up to the waggons at the next outspan.
WE reached the Crocodile River drift on a Sunday
morning, after a particularly dry and dusty night trek.
' Wanting a wash ' did not on such occasions mean
a mild inclination for a luxury : it meant that washing
was badly needed. The dust lay inches deep on the
one worn veld road, and the long strings of oxen toil-
ing along kicked up suffocating clouds of fine dust
which there was seldom any breeze to carry off : it
powdered white man and black to an equal level of
yellowy red. The waggons were a couple of hun-
dred yards from the river ; and, taking a complete
change, I went off for a real clean up.
We generally managed to get in a couple of bathes
at the rivers — real swims — but that was only done in
the regular drifts and when there were people about or
waggons crossing. In such conditions crocodiles rarely
appeared ; they prefer solitude and silence. The
swims were very delightful but somewhat different
from ordinary bathes ; however remote may have been
the risk of meeting a crocodile when you dived, or of
being grabbed by one as you swam, the idea was always
there and made it more interesting.
374
Being alone that day I had no intention of having
a swim or of going into the open river, and I took a
little trouble to pick a suitable pool with a rock on
which to stand and dress. The water was clear and
I could see the bottom of the pool. It was quite
shallow — three feet deep at most — made by a scour
in the sandy bed and divided from the main stream
by a narrow spit of sand a couple of yards wide and
twenty long. At the top end of the sand spit was a
flat rock — my dressing table.
After a dip in the pool I stood on to the sand spit
to scrub off the brown dust, keeping one unsoaped eye
roving round for intrusive crocodiles, and the loaded
rifle lying beside me. The brutes slide out so silently
and unexpectedly that in that exposed position, with
water all round, one could not afford to turn one's
back on any quarter for long. There is something
laughable — it seemed faintly humorous even then —
in the idea of a naked man hastily washing soap out
of his eyes and squeezing away the water to take a
hurried look behind him, and then after careful survey,
doing an ' altogether ' dowse just as hastily — blowing
and spluttering all the time like a boy after his first
dive.
The bath was successful and ended without incident
— not a sign of a crocodile the whole time ! Breakfast
was ready when I reached the waggons, and feeling
very fit and clean in a fresh flannel shirt and white
moleskins, I sat down to it. Jim Makokel' brought the
kettle of coffee from the fire and was in the act of
pouring some into a big mug when he stopped with
375
a grunt of surprise and, looking towards the river,
called out sharply, " What is it ? "
One of the herd boys was coming at a trot towards
us, and the drivers, thinking something had happened
to the oxen, called a question to him. He did not
answer until he reached them and even then spoke
in so quiet a tone that I could not catch what he
said. But Jim, putting down the kettle, ran to his
waggon and grabbing his sticks and assegais called to
me in a husky shouting whisper — which imperfectly
describes Jim's way of relieving his feelings, without
making the whole world echo : " Ingwenye, Inkos !
Ingwenye Umkulu ! Big Clocodile ! Groot Krokodil,
Baas ! "
Then abandoning his excited polyglot he gabbled
off in pure Zulu and at incredible speed a long account
of the big Crocodile : it had carried off four boys
going to the gold-fields that year ; it had taken a
woman and a baby from the kraal near by, but a white
man had beaten it off with a bucket ; it had taken all
the dogs, and even calves and goats, at the drinking
place ; and goodness knows how much more. How Jim
got his news, and when he made his friends, were puzzles
never solved.
Hunting stories, like travellers tales, are proverbially
dangerous to reputations, however literally true they
may be ; and this is necessarily so, partly because only
exceptional things are worth telling, and partly because
the conditions of the country or the life referred to
are unfamiliar and cannot be grasped. It is a depress-
ing but accepted fact that the ideal, lurid — and, I
376
suppose, convincing — pictures of wild life are done in
London, where the author is unhampered by fact or
experience.
" Stick to the impossible, and you will be believed :
keep clear of fact and commonplace, and you cannot
be checked."
Such was the cynical advice given many years ago
by one who had bought his experience in childhood
and could not forget it. Sent home as a small boy
from a mission station in Zululand to be educated
by his grandparents, he found the demand for marvels
among his simple country relatives so great that his
small experience of snakes and wild animals was soon
used up ; but the eager suggestive questions of the
good people, old and young, led him on, and he shyly
crossed the border. The Fields of Fancy were fair
and free ; there were no fences there ; and he stepped
out gaily into the Little People's country — The Land
of Let's Pretendia ! He became very popular.
One day, however, whilst looking at the cows, he
remarked that in Zululand a cow would not yield her
milk unless the calf stood by.
The old farmer stopped in his walk, gave him one
suspicious look, and asked coldly, " What do they do
when a calf is killed or dies ? "
" They never kill the calves there;" the boy answered,
" but once when one died father stuffed the skin .with
grass and showed it to the cow; because they said that
would do."
The old man, red with anger, took the boy
to his room, saying that as long as he spoke
377
of the lions, tigers and snakes that he knew about,
they believed him ; but when it came to farming !
No ! Downright lying he would not have ; and there
was nothing for it but larruping.
" It was the only piece of solid truth they had
allowed me to tell for months," he added thoughtfully,
" and I got a first-class hiding for it."
And was there no one who doubted Du Chaillu and
Stanley and others ? Did no one question Gordon
Cumming's story of the herd of elephants caught and
killed in a little kloof ? and did not we of Barberton
many years later locate the spot by the enormous
pile of bones, and name it " Elephants' Kloof " ?
There are two crocodile incidents well known to
those whom time has now made old hands, but believed
by no one else ; even in the day of their happening
they divided men into believers and unbelievers. The
one was of ' Mad ' Owen — only mad, because utterly
reckless — riding through Komati Drift one moonlight
night alone and unarmed, who, riding, found his horse
brought to a stop, plunging, kicking and struggling
on the sand bank in mid-stream where the water was
not waist deep. Owen looking back saw that a croco-
dile had his horse by the leg. All he had was a leaded
hunting crop, but, jumping into the water he laid
on so vigorously that the crocodile made off, and Owen
remounted and rode out.
There are many who say that it is not true — that
it cannot be true ; for no man would do it. But
there are others who have an open mind, because they
knew Owen — Mad Owen, who for a wager bandaged
378
his horse's eyes and galloped him over a twenty foot
bank headlong into the Jew's Hole in Lydenburg ;
Owen, who when driving four young horses in a Cape
cart flung the reins away and whipped up the team,
bellowing with laughter, because his nervous com-
panion said he had never been upset and did not want
to be ; Owen, who But too many things rise up
that earned him his title and blow the ' impossible '
to the winds.
Mad Owen deserves a book to himself ; but
here is my little testimony on his behalf, given shame-
faced at the thought of how he would roar to think
it needed.
I crossed that same drift one evening and on riding
up the bank to Furley's store saw a horse standing in
a dejected attitude with one hind leg clothed in
' tro'wsers ' made of sacking and held up by a sus-
pender ingeniously fastened across his back.
During the evening something reminded me of the
horse, and I asked a question ; and the end of Furley's
answer was, " They say it's all a yarn about ' horse-
whipping ' a crocodile : all we know is that one night,
a week ago, he turned up here dripping wet, and
after having a drink told us the yarn. He had the
leaded hunting-crop in his hand ; and that's the horse
he was riding. You can make what you like of it.
We've been doctoring the horse ever since, but I doubt
if it will pull through ! "
I have no doubt about the incident. Owen did not
invent : he had no need to ; and Furley himself was
no mean judge of crocodiles and men. Furley kept
379
a ferry boat for the use of natives and others when
the river was up, at half a crown a trip. The business
ran itself and went strong during the summer floods,
but in winter when the river was low and fordable
it needed pushing; and then Furley's boatman, an
intelligent native, would loiter about the drift and
interest travellers in his crocodile stories, and if they
proved over-confident or sceptical, would manoeuvre
them a little way down stream where, from the bank,
they would usually see a big crocodile sunning him-
self on a sand spit below the drift. The boys always
took the boat. One day some police entered the
store and joyously announced that they had got him
— " bagged the old villain at last ! " ; and Furley
dropped on a sack of mealies groaning out " Glory,
Boys ! The ferry's ruined. Why, I've preserved him
for years ! "
The other crocodile incident concerns " Lying Tom "
— brave merry-faced blue-eyed Tom ; bubbling with
good humour ; overflowing with kindness ; and full
of the wildest yarns, always good and amusing, but so
steep that they made the most case-hardened draw
a long breath.
The name Lying Tom was understood and
accepted by every one in the place, barring Tom
himself; for, oddly enough, there was another Tom
of the same surname, but no relation, and once when
his name cropped up I heard the real Simon Pure refer
to him as " my namesake — the chap they call Lying
Tom." To the day of his death Tom believed that
it was the other Tom who was esteemed the liar.
380
Tom was a prospector who * came in ' occasionally
for supplies or licenses ; and there came a day when
Barberton was convulsed by Lying Tom's latest.
He had been walking along the bank of the Crocodile
River, and on hearing screams ran down just in time
to see a kaffir woman with a child on her back dragged
off through the shallow water by a crocodile. Tom
ran in to help — " I kicked the dashed thing on the
head and in the eyes," he said, " and punched its ribs
and then grabbed the bucket that the woman had in
her hand and hammered the blamed thing over the
head till it let go. By Jimminy, Boys, the woman was
in a mess : never saw any one in such a fright ! "
Poor Tom suffered from consumption in the throat
and talked in husky jerks broken by coughs and laughter.
Is there one among them who knew him who does not
remember the breezy cheeriness, the indomitable
pluck, the merry blue eyes, so limpidly clear, the
expressive bushy eyebrows, and the teeth, too perfect
to be wasted on a man, and ever flashing with his un-
failing smiles ?
Tom would end up with — " Niggers said I was
' takati ' : asked for some of my medicine ! Blamed
niggers ; got no pluck : would've let the
I "
woman
go
Of course this story went the rounds as
latest and best ; but one day we turned
up in Barberton to deliver our loads, and
that evening a whisper went about and
men with faces humorously puzzled
looked at one another and said
Tom's
" Lying Tom's a fraud : the crocodile story is
true ! "
For our party, shooting guinea-fowl in the kaffir
lands along the river, came upon a kraal where there
sat a woman with an arm so scarred and marked that
we could not but ask what had caused it. There was
no difference in the stories, except that the kaffirs after
saying that the white man had kicked the crocodile
and beaten it with the bucket, added " and he kicked
and beat with the bucket the two men who were there,
saying that they were not men but dogs, who would not
go in and help the woman. But he was bewitched :
the crocodile could not touch him ! "
Some of Tom's stories were truly incredible, but
not those in which he figured to advantage : he was
too brave a man to have consciously gained credit he
did not deserve. He died, slowly starved to death
by the cruel disease — the brave, kindly, cheery spirit,
smiling unbeaten to the end.
That was what Jim referred to when he called me
to kill the murderer of women and children. It
pleased him and others to say that this was the same
crocodile ; and I believe it was. The locality was
the same, and the kraal boys said that it was in the old
place from which all its murderous raids had been
made ; and that was all we knew.
I took the rifle and went with the herd boy ; Jim
followed close behind, walking on his toes with the
waltzy springy movement of an ostrich, eager to get
ahead and repeatedly silenced and driven back by me
in the few hundred yards' walk to the river.
382
A queer premonitory feeling came over me as I
saw we were making straight for the bathing pool ;
but before reaching the bank the herd boy squatted
down, indicating that somewhere in front and below
us the enemy would be found. An easy crawl brought
me to the river bank and, sure enough, on the very
spot where I had stood to wash, only fifty yards from
us, there was an enormous crocodile. He was lying
along the sand-spit with his full length exposed to me.
Such a shot would have been a moral certainty, but
as I brought the rifle slowly up it may have glinted in
the sun, or perhaps the crocodile had been watching
us all the time, for with one easy turn and no splash
at all he slid into the river and was gone.
It was very disgusting and I pitched into Jim and
the other boys behind for having made a noise and
shown themselves ; but they were still squatting
when I reached them and vowed they had neither
moved nor spoken. We had already turned to go
when there came a distant call from beyond the river.
To me it was merely a kaffir's voice and a sound
quite meaningless : but to the boys' trained ears
it spoke clearly. Jim pressed me downwards
and we all squatted again.
" He is coming out on another sand-
bank," Jim explained.
Again I crawled to the bank and
lay flat, with the rifle ready. There
was another sand streak a hundred
yards out in the stream with
two out-croppings of
383
black rock at the upper end of it — they were rocks
right enough, for I had examined them carefully when
bathing. This was the only other sandbank in sight :
it was higher than it appeared to be from a distance
and the crocodile whilst hidden from us was visible
to the natives on the opposite bank as it lay in the
shallow water and emerged inch by inch to resume
its morning sun bath. The crocodile was so slow in
showing up that I quite thought it had been scared
off again, and I turned to examine other objects and
spots up and down the stream ; but presently glancing
back at the bank again I saw what appeared to be
a third rock, no bigger than a loaf of bread. This
object I watched until my eyes ached and swam ; it
was the only possible crocodile ; yet it was so small,
so motionless, so permanent looking, it seemed absurd
to doubt that it really was a stone which had passed
unnoticed before.
As I watched unblinkingly it seemed to grow bigger
and again contract with regular swing, as if it swelled
and shrank with breathing ; and knowing that this
must be merely an optical delusion caused by staring
too long, I shut my eyes for a minute. The effect was
excellent : the rock was much bigger ; and after that
it was easy to lie still and wait for the cunning old
reptile to show himself.
It took half an hour of this cautious manoeuvring
and edging on the part of the crocodile before he
was comfortably settled on the sand with the sun
warming all his back. In the meantime the waggon
boys behind me had not stirred ; on the opposite side
384
of the river kaffirs from the neighbouring kraal had
gathered to the number of thirty or forty, men, women
and children, and they stood loosely grouped, instinc-
tively still silent and watchful, like a little scattered
herd of deer. All on both sides were watching me
and waiting for the shot. It seemed useless to delay f
longer ; the whole length of the body was showing,
but it looked so wanting in thickness, so shallow
in fact, that it was evident the crocodile was lying,
not on the top, but on the other slope of the sand spit ;
and probably not more than six or eight inches — in
depth — of body was visible.
It was little enough to aim at, and the bullet
seemed to strike the top of the bank first, sending
up a column of .sand, and then, probably knocked all
out of shape, ploughed into the body with a tremendous
thump.
The crocodile threw a back somersault — that is,
it seemed to rear up on its tail and spring backwards ;
the jaws divided into a huge fork as, for a second, it
stood up on end ; and it let out an enraged roar,
seemingly aimed at the heavens. It was a very sudden
and dramatic effect, following on the long silence.
Then the whole world seemed to burst into in-
describable turmoil ; shouts and yells burst out on
all sides ; the kafHrs rushed down to the banks —
the men armed with sticks and assegais, and the
women and children with nothing more formidable
than their voices ; the crocodile was alive — very
much alive — and in the water ; the waggon boys,
headed by Jim, were all round me and all yelling
385 2B
out together what should or should not be done, and
what would happen if we did or did not do it. It was
Babel and Bedlam let loose.
With the first plunge the crocodile disappeared,
but it came up again ten yards away thrashing the
water into foam and going up stream like a paddle-
boat gone reeling roaring mad — if one can imagine such
a thing ! I had another shot at him the instant he
^reappeared, but one could neither see nor hear where
it struck ; and again and again I fired whenever he
showed up for a second. He appeared to be shot
through the lungs ; at any rate the kaffirs on the other
bank, who were then quite close enough to see, said
that it was so. The waggon boys had run down the
bank out on to the first sand spit and I followed them,
shouting to the kaffirs opposite to get out of the line
of fire, as I could no longer shoot without risk of hitting
them.
The crocodile after his first straight dash up stream
had tacked about in all directions during the next
few minutes, disappearing for short spells and plunging
out again in unexpected places. One of these sudden
reappearances brought him once more abreast, and
quite near to us, and Jim with a fierce yell and with
his assegai held high in his right hand dashed into the
water, going through the shallows in wild leaps. I
called to him to come back but against his yells and
the excited shouts of the ever-increasing crowd my
voice could not live ; and Jim, mad with excitement,
went on. Twenty yards out, where increasing depth
steadied him, he turned for a moment and seeing himself
386
alone in the water called to me with eager confidence,
" Come on, Baas."
It had never occurred to me that any one would be
such an idiot as to go into water after a wounded
crocodile. There was no need to finish off this one,
for it was bound to die, and no one wanted the meat
or skin. Who, then, would be so mad as to think of
such a thing ? Five minutes earlier I would have
answered very confidently for myself ; but there are
times when one cannot afford to be sensible. There
was a world of unconscious irony in Jim's choice of
words " Come on ! " and " Baas ! "
The boy giving the lead to his master was too
much for me ; and in I went !
I cannot say that there was much enjoyment in it
for the first few moments — not until the excitement
took hold and all else was forgotten. The first thing
that struck me was that in the deep water my rifle
was worth no more than a walking-stick, and not
nearly as useful as an assegai ; but what drove this and
many other thoughts from my mind in a second was
the appearance of Jock on the stage and his sudden
jump into the leading place.
In the first confusion he had passed unnoticed, pro-
bably at my heels as usual, but the instant I answered
Jim's challenge by jumping into the water he gave one
whimpering yelp of excitement and plunged in too ; and
in a few seconds he had outdistanced us all and was
leading straight for the crocodile. I shouted to him,
of course in vain — he heard nothing ; and Jim and I
plunged and struggled along to head the dog off.
387
As the crocodile came up Jock went straight for
him — his eyes gleaming, his shoulders up, his nose
out, his neck stretched to the utmost in his eagerness —
and he ploughed along straining every muscle to catch
up. When the crocodile went under he slackened and
looked anxiously about, but each fresh rise was greeted
by the whimpering yelps of intense suppressed excite-
ment as he fairly hoisted himself out of the water with
the vigour of his swimming.
The water was now breast-high for us, and we were
far out in the stream, beyond the sand spit where the
crocodile had lain, when the kaffirs on the bank got
their first chance and a flight of assegais went at the
enemy as he rose. Several struck and two remained
in him ; he rose again a few yards from Jim, and that
sportsman let fly one that struck well home. Jock,
who had been toiling close behind for some time and
gaining slowly, was not five yards off then ; the
floundering and lashing of the crocodile were bewilder-
ing, but on he went as grimly and eagerly as ever.
I fired again — not more than eight yards away — but
the water was then up to my arms, and it was impossible
to pick a vital part ; the brain and neck were the only
spots to finish him, but one could see nothing beyond
a great upheaval of water and clouds of spray and
blood-stained foam.
The crocodile turned from the shot and dived up
stream, heading straight for Jock : the din of yelling
voices stopped instantly as the huge open mouthed
thing plunged towards the dog ; and for one sick
horrified moment I stood and watched — helpless.
388
Had the crocodile risen in front of Jock that would
have been the end — one snap would have done it ;
but it passed clear underneath, and, coming up just
beyond him, the great lashing tail sent the dog up with
the column of water a couple of feet in the air. He
did as he had done when the koodoo bull tossed him :
his head was round straining to get at the crocodile
before he was able to turn his body in the water ; and
the silence was broken by a yell of wild delight and
approval from the bank.
Before us the water was too deep and the stream
too strong to stand in ; Jim in his eagerness had gone
in shoulder high, and my rifle when aimed only just
cleared the water. The crocodile was the mark for
more assegais from the bank as it charged up stream
again, with Jock tailing behind, and it was then easy
enough to follow its movements by the shafts that
were never all submerged. The struggles became
perceptibly weaker, and as it turned again to go with
the stream every effort was concentrated on killing
and landing it before it reached the rocks and rapids.
I moved back for higher ground and, finding that
the bed shelved up rapidly down stream, made for a
position where there would be enough elevation to
put in a brain shot. The water was not more than
waist high then, and as the crocodile came rolling and
thrashing down I waited for his head to show up
clearly. My right foot touched a sloping rock which
rose almost to the surface of the water close above the
rapids, and anxious to get the best possible position
for a last shot, I took my stand there. The rock was
389
the ordinary shelving bedrock, uptilted at an easy
angle and cut off sheer on the exposed side, and the
wave in the current would have shown this to any one
not wholly occupied with other things ; but I had eyes
for nothing except the crocodile which was then less
than a dozen yards off, and in my anxiety to secure a
firm footing for the shot I moved the right foot again
a few inches — over the edge of the rock. The result
was as complete a spill as if one unthinkingly stepped
backwards off a diving board : I disappeared in deep
water, with the knowledge that the crocodile would
join me there in a few seconds.
One never knows how these things are done or how
long they take : I was back on the rock — without the
rifle — and had the water out of my eyes in time to see
the crocodile roll helplessly by, six feet away, with
Jock behind making excited but ridiculously futile
attempts to get hold of the tail ; Jim — swimming,
plunging and blowing like a maddened hippo — formed
the tail of the procession, which was headed by my
water-logged hat floating heavily a yard or so in front
of the crocodile.
While a crowd of yelling niggers under the general-
ship of Jim were landing the crocodile, I had time to do
some diving, and managed to fish out my rifle.
My Sunday change was wasted. But we got the
old crocodile ; and that was something, after all.
ON the way to Lydenburg, not many treks from
Paradise Camp, we were outspanned for the day.
Those were the settled parts ; on the hills and
in the valleys about us were the widely scattered
workings of the gold diggers or the white tents
of occasional prospectors.
The place was a well-known and much-frequented
public outspan, and a fair sized wayside store marked
its importance. After breakfast we went to the
store to ' swap ' news with the men on the spot and
a couple of horsemen who had offsaddled there.
There were several other houses of sorts ; they
were rough wattle and daub erections which were called
houses, as an acknowledgment of pretensions expressed
in the rectangular shape and corrugated iron roof.
One of these belonged to Seedling, the Field Cornet
and only official in the district. He was the petty
local Justice who was supposed to administer minor
laws, collect certain revenues and taxes, and issue passes.
The salary was nominal, but the position bristled with
opportunities for one who was not very particular ;
391
and the then occupant of the office seemed well enough
pleased with the arrangement, whatever the public may
have thought of it.
He was neither popular nor trusted : many tales of
great harshness and injustice to the natives, and
of corruption and favouritism in dealing with the
whites, added to habitual drunkenness and uncertain
temper, made a formidable tally in the account against
him ; he was also a bully and a coward, and all knew
it ; but unfortunately he was the law — as it stood for
us !
Seedling, although an official of the Boer Govern-
ment, was an Englishman ; there were several of them
on the goldfields in those days, and for the most part,
they were good fellows and good officials — this one
was an exception. We all knew him personally : he
was effusively friendly ; and we suffered him and —
paid for the drinks. That was in his public capacity :
in his private capacity he was the owner of the fighting
baboon of evil and cruel repute.
If ever fate's instruments moved unconscious of
their mission and the part they were to play, it is certain
that Jock and Jim Makokel' did so that day — the day
that was the beginning of Seedling's fall and end.
It is not very clear how the trouble began. We had
been sitting on the little store-counter and talking for
hour, a group of half a dozen, swap-
ping off the news of the goldfields and
the big world against that from
Delagoa and the Bushveld ;
Seedling had joined us early
392
over
and, as usual, began the morning with drinks. We
were not used to that on the road or out hunting ;
indeed, we rarely took any drink, and most of us
never touched a drop except in the towns. The
transport rider had opportunities which might easily
become temptations — the load often consisting of
liquor, easy to broach and only to be paid for at the
end of the trip ; but we had always before us the lesson
of the failures. Apart from this, however, we did not
take liquor, because we could not work as well or last
as long, run as fast or shoot as straight, if we did. And
that was reason enough !
We had one round of drinks which was * called '
by one of the horsemen, and then, to return the com-
pliment, another round called by one of us. A few
minutes later Seedling announced effusively that it was
his 'shout.' But it was only ten in the morning, and
those who had taken spirits had had enough, indeed,
several had only taken a sip of the second round in
order to comply with a stupid and vicious custom ;
I would not and could not attack another bottle of
sour gingerbeer; and thus Seedling's round was
reduced to himself and the proprietor. No man
however thirsty would drink alone in those days — it
was taken a mark of meanness or evidence of ' soaking '
— and the proprietor had to be ready at any time to
' take one for the good of the house.'
A quarter of an hour passed, and Seedling, who had
said nothing since his ' shout ' was declined, turned away
and strolled out, with hands thrust deep in the pockets
of his riding breeches and a long heavy sjambok dangling
393
from one wrist. There was silence as he moved through
the doorway, and when the square patch of sunlight
on the earth floor was again unbroken the man behind
the counter remarked,
" Too long between drinks for him ! Gone for a
pull at the private bottle."
" Is that how it's going ? "
" Yah ! all day long. Drinks here as long as any
one'll call, but don't do much shoutin' on his own, I
tell you ! That's the first time I seen him call for a
week. He wanted to get you chaps on the go, I reckon.
He'll be wrong all day to-day. I know him ! "
" Cost him two bob for nothing, eh ! "
" Well, it ain't so much that ; ye see, he reckoned
you'd all shout your turns, and drinks 'd come regular ;
but he sees you're not on, Twig ? I'm not complainin'
mind you — Lord no ! He don't pay any way ! It's
all ' chalked up ' for him, an' I got to wipe it off the slate
when the next loads comes and he collects my customs'
duties. His liquor's took him wrong to-day — you'll
see ! "
We did see ; and that before very long. We had
forgotten Seedling, and were hearing all about the new
finds reported from Barberton district, when one of the
waggon boys came running into the store calling to me
by my kaffir name and shouting excitedly, " Baas,
Baas ! come quickly ! The baboon has got Jock :
it will kill him ! "
I had known all about the vicious brute, and had
often heard of Seedling's fiendish delight in arranging
fights or enticing dogs up to attack it for the pleasure
394
of seeing the beast kill the over-matched dogs. The
dog had no chance at all, for the baboon remained out of
reach in his house on the pole as long as it chose, if the
dog was too big or the opening not a good one, and
made its rush when it would tell best. But apart
from this the baboon was an exceptionally big and
powerful one, and it is very doubtful if any dog could
have tackled it successfully in an open fight. The
creature was as clever as even they can be ; its enormous
jaws and teeth were quite equal to the biggest dog's,
and it had the advantage of four ' hands.' Its tactics
in a fight were quite simple and most effective ; with
its front feet it caught the dog by the ears or neck,
holding the head so that there was no risk of being
bitten, and then gripping the body lower down with
the hind feet, it tore lumps out of the throat, breast,
and stomach — pushing with all four feet and tearing
with the terrible teeth. The poor dogs were hopelessly
outmatched.
I did not see the beginning of Jock's encounter,
but the boys' stories pieced together told everything.
It appears that when Seedling left the store he went
in to his own hut and remained there some little time ;
on coming out again he strolled over to the baboon's
pole about half way between the two houses and began
teasing it, throwing pebbles at it to see it dodge and
duck behind the pole, and then flicking at it with the
sjambok, amused by its frightened and angry protests.
While he was doing this, Jock, who had followed me to
the store, strolled out again making his way towards
the waggons. He was not interested in our talk ; he
395
had twice been accidentally trodden on by men step-
ping back as he lay stretched out on the floor behind
them ; and doubtless he felt that it was no place for him :
his deafness prevented him from hearing movements,
except such as caused vibration in the ground, and,
poor old fellow, he was always at a disadvantage in
houses and towns.
The baboon had then taken refuge in its box on
top of the pole to escape the sjambok, and when Seed-
ling saw Jock come out he commenced whistling and
calling softly to him. Jock, of course, heard nothing :
he may have responded mildly to the friendly overtures
conveyed by the extended hand and patting of legs,
or more probably simply took the nearest way to the
waggon where he might sleep in peace, since there
was nothing else to do. What the boys agree on is
that as Jock passed the pole Seedling patted and held
him, at the same time calling the baboon, and then gave
the dog a push which did not quite roll him over
but upset his balance ; and Jock, recovering himself,
naturally jumped round and faced Seedling, standing
almost directly between him and the baboon. He
could not hear the rattle of the chain on the box and
pole, and saw nothing of the charging brute, and it was
the purest accident that the dog stood a few inches out
of reach. The baboon — chained by the neck instead
of the waist, because it used to bite through all
loin straps — made its rush, but the chain brought
it up before its hands could reach Jock and
threw the hind-quarters round with such force
against him that he was sent rolling yards away.
396
I can well believe that this second attack from a
different and wholly unexpected quarter thoroughly
roused him, and can picture how he turned to face
it.
It was at this moment that Jim first noticed what was
going on. The other boys had not expected anything
when Seedling called the dog, and they were taken
completely by surprise by what followed. Jim would
have known what to expect : his kraal was in the neigh-
bourhood ; he knew Seedling well, and had already
suffered in fines and confiscations at his hands ; he
also knew about the baboon; but he was ignorant, just
as I was, of the fact that Seedling had left his old place
across the river and come to live in the new hut, bring-
ing his pet with him.
It was the hoarse threatening shout of the baboon
as it jumped at Jock, as much as the exclamations of
the boys, that roused Jim. He knew instantly what was
on, and grabbing a stick made a dash to save the dog,
with the other boys following him.
When Jock was sent spinning in the dust the baboon
recovered itself first, and standing up on its hind legs
reached out its long ungainly arms towards him, and
let out a shout of defiance. Jock regaining his feet
dashed in, jumped aside, feinted again and again, as
he had learnt to do when big horns swished at him ;
and he kept out of reach just as he had done ever since
the duiker taught him the use of its hoofs. He knew
what to do, just as he had known how to swing the
porcupine : the dog — for all the fighting fury that
possessed him — took the measure of the chain and kept
397
outside it. Round and round he flew, darting in,
jumping back, snapping and dodging, but never
getting right home. The baboon was as clever as
he was : at times it jumped several feet in the air,
straight up, in the hope that Jock would run under-
neath ; at others, it would make a sudden lunge with
the long arms, or a more surprising reach out with the
hind legs to grab him. Then the baboon began gradu-
ally to reduce its circle, leaving behind it slack chain
enough for a spring ; but Jock was not to be drawn.
In cleverness they were well-matched — neither scored
in attack ; neither made or lost a point.
When Jim rushed up to save Jock, it was with eager
anxious shouts of the dog's name that warned Seedling
and made him turn ; and as the boy ran forward the
white man stepped out to stop him.
" Leave the dog alone ! " he shouted, pale with
anger.
" Baas, Baas, the dog will be killed," Jim called
excitedly, as he tried to get round ; but the white
man made a jump towards him, and with a back-
hand slash of the sjambok struck him across the face,
shouting at him again :
" Leave him, I tell you."
Jim jumped back, thrusting out his stick to guard
another vicious cut ; and so it went on with alternate
slash and guard, and the big Zulu danced round with
nimble bounds, guarding, dodging, or bearing the
sjambok cuts, to save the dog. Seedling was mad with
rage ; for who had ever heard of a nigger standing
up to a Field Cornet ? Still Jim would not give way ;
398
he kept trying to get in front of Jock, to head him off the
fight, and all the while shouting to the other boys to
call me. But Seedling was the Field Cornet, and
not one of them dared to move against him.
At last the baboon, finding that Jock would not come
on, tried other tactics ; it made a sudden retreat and,
rushing for the pole, hid behind it as for protection.
Jock made a jump and the baboon leaped out to meet
him, but the dog stopped at the chain's limit, and the,
baboon — just as in the first dash of all — overshot the
mark ; it was brought up by the jerk of the collar, and
for one second sprawled on its back. That was the
first chance for Jock, and he took it. With one spring
he was in ; his head shot between the baboon's hind
legs, and with his teeth buried in the soft stomach he
lay back and pulled — pulled for dear life, as he had
pulled and dragged on the legs of wounded game ;
tugged as he had tugged at the porcupine ; held on,
as he had held when the koodoo bull wrenched and
strained every bone and muscle in his body.
Then came the sudden turn ! As Jock fastened
on to the baboon, dragging the chain taut while the
screaming brute struggled on its back, Seedling stood
for a second irresolute, and then with a stride forward
raised his sjambok to strike the dog. That was too
much for Jim ; he made a spring in and grasping the
raised sjambok with his left hand held Seedling power-
less, while in his right the boy raised his stick on guard.
" Let him fight, Baas ! You said it ! Let the dog
fight ! " he panted, hoarse with excitement.
The white man, livid with fury, struggled and
399
kicked, but the wrist loop of his sjambok held him
prisoner and he could do nothing.
That was the moment when a panic-stricken boy
plucked up courage enough to call me ; and that was
the scene we saw as we ran out of the little shop. Jim
would not strike the white man : but his face was a
muddy grey, and it was written there that he would
rather die than give up the dog.
Before I reached them it was clear to us all what
had happened ; Jim was protesting to Seedling and
at the same time calling to me ; it was a jumble, but
a jumble eloquent enough for us, and all intelligible.
Jim's excited gabble was addressed with reckless in-
coherence to Seedling, to me, and to Jock !
" You threw him in ; you tried to kill him. He
did it. It was not the dog. Kill him, Jock, kill him.
Leave him, let him fight. You said it — Let him fight !
Kill him, Jock ! Kill! Kill! Kill!"
Then Seedling did the worst thing possible ; he
turned on me with,
" Call off your dog, I tell you, or I'll shoot him
and your nigger too ' "
" We'll see about that ! They can fight it out
now," and I took the sjambok from Jim's hand and
cut it from the white man's wrist.
" Now ! Stand back ! "
And he stood back.
The baboon was quite helpless. Powerful as the
brute was, and formidable as were the arms and
gripping feet, it had no chance while Jock could keep
his feet and had strength to drag and hold the chain
400
w
tight. The collar was choking it, and the grip on the
stomach — the baboon's own favourite and most success-
ful device — was fatal.
I set my teeth, and thought of the poor helpless dogs
that had been decoyed in and treated the same way.
Jim danced about, the white seam of froth on his lips,
hoarse gusts of encouragement bursting from him
as he leant over Jock, and his whole body vibrating like
an over-heated boiler. And Jock hung on in grim
earnest, the silence on his side broken only by grunting
efforts as the deadly tug — tug — tug went on. Each,|jjj|
pull caused his feet to slip a little on the smooth worn y
ground ; but each time he set them back again, and
the grunting tugs went on.
It was not justice to call Jock off ; but I did it.
The cruel brute deserved killing, but the human look
and cries and behaviour of the baboon were too
sickening ; and Seedling went into his hut without
even a look at his stricken champion.
Jock stood off, with his mouth open from ear to ear
and his red tongue dangling, blood-stained and pant-
ing, but with eager feet ever on the move shifting
from spot to spot, ears going back and forward, and
eyes — now on the baboon and now on me — pleading
for the sign to go in again.
Before evening the baboon was dead.
* * * * *
The day's excitement was too much for Jim. After
singing and dancing himself into a frenzy round Jock,
after shouting the whole story of the fight in violent
401 2c
and incessant gabble over and over again to those
who had witnessed it, after making every ear ring and
every head swim with his mad din, he grabbed his
sticks once more and made off for one of the kraals,
there to find drink for which he thirsted body and
soul.
In the afternoon the sudden scattering of the
inhabitants of a small kraal on the hillside opposite,
and some lusty shouting, drew attention that way.
At distances of from two to five hundred yards from
the huts there stood figures, singly or grouped in twos
and threes, up to the highest slopes ; they formed a
sort of crescent above the kraal ; and on the lower side
of it, hiding under the bank of the river, were a dozen
or more whose heads only were visible. They were
all looking towards the kraal like a startled herd of
buck. Now and then a burly figure would dart out
from the huts with wild bounds and blood-curdling
yells, and the watchers on that side would scatter like
chaff and flee for dear life up the mountain side or
duck instantly and disappear in the river. Then he
would stalk back again and disappear, to repeat the
performance on another side a little later on.
It was all painfully clear to me. Jim had broken
out.
We were loaded for Lydenburg — another week's
trekking through and over the mountains — and as
we intended coming back the same way a fortnight
later I decided at once to leave Jim at his kraal, which
was only a little further on, and pick him up on the
return journey.
402
I nearly always paid him off in live stock or sheep :
he had good wages, and for many months at a time
would draw no money ; the boy was a splendid worker
and as true as steel ; so that, in spite of all the awful
worry I had a soft spot for Jim and had taken a good
deal of trouble on his account. He got his pay at
the end of the trip or the season, but not in cash. It
was invested for him — greatly to his disgust at the time,
I am bound to say — in live stock, so that he would not
be able to squander it in drink or be robbed of it while
incapable.
Jim's gloomy dignity was colossal when it came to
squaring up and I invited him to state what he wished
me to buy for him. To be treated like an irresponsible
child ; to be chaffed and cheerfully warned by me ;
to be met by the giggles and squirts of laughter of the
other boys, for whom he had the most profound con-
tempt ; to see the respectable Sam counting out with
awkward eager hands and gleaming eyes the good red
gold, while he, Makokela the Zulu, was treated like
a piccanin — Ugh ! It was horrible ! Intolerable !
Jim would hold aloof in injured gloomy silence, not
once looking at me, but standing sideways and staring
stonily past me into the far distance, and not relaxing
for a second the expression of profound displeasure
on his weather-beaten face. No joke or chaff, no
question or reason, would move him to even look
my way. All he would do was, now and again,
give a click of disgust, a quick shake of the head,
and say : " Aug ! Ang-a-funa ! " (" I do not desire
it ! ")
4°3
We had the same fight over and over again, but I
always won in the end. Once, when he would not
make up his mind what to buy, I offered him instead
of cash two of the worst oxen in his span at the highest
possible valuation, and the effect was excellent ; but the
usual lever was to announce that if he could not make
his choice and bargain for himself I would do it for
him. In the end he invariably gave way and bargained
with his kaffir friends for a deal, venting on them by
his hard driving and brow-beating some of the accumu-
lated indignation which ought to have gone elsewhere.
When it was all over Jim recovered rapidly, and
at parting time there was the broadest of grins and a
stentorian shout of " Hlala Kahle ! Inkos ! " and
Jim went off with his springy walk, swinging his sticks
and jabbering his thoughts aloud, evidently about me,
for every now and again he would spring lightly into
the air, twirl the stick, and shout a deep throated
" Inkos ! " full of the joy of living. A boy going home
for his holiday !
This time Jim was too fully wound up to be dealt
with as before, and I simply turned him off, telling
him to come to the camp in a fortnight's time.
*****
I was a day behind the waggons returning,
and riding up to the camp towards midday
found Jim waiting for me. He looked ill
and shrunken, wrapped in an old coat and
squatting against the wall of the little hut.
1 As I passed he rose slowly and gave his " Saku-
? bona ! Inkos ! " with that curious controlled
404
air by which the kaffir manages to suggest a kind of
fatalist resignation or indifference touched with disgust.
There was something wrong ; so I rode past without
stopping — one learns from them to find out how
the land lies before doing anything.
It was a bad story, almost as bad as one would think
possible where civilised beings are concerned. Jim's
own story lacked certain details of which he was
necessarily ignorant, it also omitted the fact that
had been drunk ; but in the main it was quite true.
This is what happened, as gleaned from several
sources : several days after our departure Jim went down
to the store again and raised some liquor ; he was not
fighting, but he was noisy, and was the centre of a
small knot of shouting, arguing boys near the store
when Seedling returned after a two days' absence.
No doubt it was unfortunate that the very first thing
he saw on his return was the boy who had defied
him and who was the cause of his humiliation ;
and that that boy should by his behaviour give the
slenderest excuse for interference was in the last degree
unlucky. Seedling's mind was made up from the
moment he set eyes on Jim. Throwing the reins
over his horse's head he walked into the excited
gabbling knot, all unconscious of his advent, and laid
about him with the sjambok, scattering and silencing
them instantly ; he then took Jim by the wrist saying,
" I want you " ; he called to one of his own boys
to bring a reim, and leading Jim over to the side of
the store tied him up to the horse rail with arms at
full stretch. Taking out his knife he cut the boy's
405
clothing down the back so that it fell away in two
halves in front of him ; then he took off his own coat
and flogged the boy with his sjambok.
I would like to tell all that happened for one reason :
it would explain the murderous man-hunting feeling
that possessed us when we heard it ! But it was too
cruel : let it be ! Only one thing to show the spirit :
twice during the flogging Seedling stopped to go into
the store for a drink.
Jim crawled home to find his kraal ransacked and
deserted, and his wives and children driven off in panic.
In addition to the .flogging Seedling had, in accordance
with his practice, imposed fines far beyond the boy's
means in cash, so as to provide an excuse for seizing
what he wanted. The police boys had raided the
kraal ; and the cattle and goats — his only property —
were gone.
He told it all in a dull monotone : for the time the
life and fire were gone out of him ; but he was not
cowed, not broken. There was a curl of contempt
on his mouth and in his tone that whipped the white
skin on my own back and made it all a disgrace unbear-
able. That this should be the reward for his
courageous defence of Jock seemed too awful.
We went inside to talk it over and make
our plans. The waggons should go on
next day as if nothing had happened,
Jim remaining in one of the half tents
or elsewhere out of sight of passers-by.
I was to ride into Lydenburg and lodge
information — for in such a case the
406
authorities would surely act. That was the best, or
at any rate the first, course to be tried.
There was no difficulty about the warrant, for there
were many counts in the indictment against Seedling ;
but even so worthless a brute as that seemed to have
one friend, or perhaps an accomplice, to give him
warning, and before we reached his quarters with the
police he had cleared on horseback for Portuguese
territory, taking with him a led horse.
We got most of Jim's cattle back for him — which he
seemed to consider the main thing — but we were
sorely disgusted at the man's escape.
That was the year of the ' rush.' Thousands of
new comers poured into the country on the strength
of the gold discoveries ; materials and provisions of
all kinds were almost unprocurable and stood at famine
prices ; and consequently we — the transport riders —
reaped a golden harvest. Never had there been such
times ; waggons and spans were paid for in single
trips ; and so great was the demand for supplies that
some refused transport and bought their own goods,
which they re-sold on the goldfields at prices twice
as profitable as the highest rates of transport.
Thus the days lost in the attempt to catch Seedling
were valuable days. The season was limited, and as
early rains might cut us off, a few days thrown away
might mean the loss of a whole trip. We hurried down,
therefore, for the Bay, doing little hunting that time.
Near the Crocodile on our way down we heard
from men coming up that Seedling had been there
some days before but that, hearing we were on the way
407
down and had sworn to shoot him, he had ridden on
to Komati, leaving one horse behind bad with horse-
sickness. The report about shooting him was, of course,
ridiculous — probably his own imagination — but it was
some comfort to know that he was in such a state of
terror that his own fancies were hunting him down.
At Komati we learned that he had stayed three days
at the store of that Goanese murderer, Antonio — the
same Antonio who on one occasion had tried to drug
and hand over to the enemy two of our men who had got
into trouble defending themselves against raiding
natives ; the same Antonio who afterwards made an
ill-judged attempt to stab one Mickey O'Connor in
a Barberton canteen and happily got brained with a
bottle of his own doctored spirit for his pains.
Antonio suspecting something wrong about a white
man who came on horseback and dawdled aimlessly
three days at Komati Drift, going indoors whenever
a stranger appeared, wormed the secret out with
liquor and sympathy ; and when he had got most of
Seedling's money out of him, by pretence of bribing
the Portuguese officials and getting news, made a bold
bid for the rest by saying that a warrant was out for
him in Delagoa and he must on no account go on.
The evil-looking half-caste no doubt hoped to get the
horse saddle and bridle, as well as the cash, and was
quite prepared to drug Seedling when the time came,
and slip him quietly into the Komati at night where
the crocodiles would take care of the evidence.
Antonio, however, overshot the mark ; Seedling
who knew all about him, took fright, saddled up and
bolted up the river meaning to make for the Lebombo,
near the Tembe Drift, where Bob McNab and his
merry comrades ran free of Governments and were a
law unto themselves. It was no place for a nervous
man, but Seedling had no choice, and he went on.
He had liquor in his saddle bags and food for several
days ; but he was not used to the bush, and at the end
of the first day he had lost his way and was beyond the
river district where the kaffirs lived.
So much is believed, though not positively known ;
at any rate he left the last kraal in those parts about
noon, and was next heard of two days later at a kraal
under the Lebombo. There he learnt that the Black
Umbelusi, which it would be necessary to swim — as
Snowball and Tsetse had done — lay before him, and that
it was yet a great distance to Sebougwaans,and even then
he would be only half way to Bob's. Seedling could
not face it alone, and turned back for the nearest store.
The natives said that before leaving the kraal he
bought beer from them, but did not want food ; for
he looked sick ; he was red and swollen in the face ;
and his eyes were wild ; the horse was weak and also
looked sick, being very thin and empty ; but they
showed him the foot-path over the hills which would
take him to Tom's — a white man's store on the road
to Delagoa — and he left them ! That was Tom
Barnett's at Piscene, where we always stopped ; for
Tom was a good friend of ours.
That was how we came to meet Seedling again. He
had made a loop of a hundred and fifty miles in four
days in his efforts to avoid us ; but he was waiting for
409
us when we arrived at Tom Barnett's. We who had
hurried on to catch him, believing that the vengeance
of justice depended on us, forgot that it has been
otherwise decreed.
Tom stood in the doorway of his store as we walked
up — five feet one in his boots, but every inch of it a
man — with his hands resting idly on his hips and a
queer smile on his face as he nodded welcome.
" Did a white man come here on horseback during
the last few days from the Drift ? "
" No ! "
" On foot ? "
" No, not the whole way."
" Is he here now ? "
Tom nodded.
" You know about him, Tom ? "
" Seedling ! the chap you're after, isn't it ? '
" Yes," we answered, lowering our voices.
Tom looked from one to the other with the same
queer smile, and then making a move to let us into the
store said quietly : " He won't clear, boys ; he's dead ! "
Some kaffirs coming along the footpath from the
'Bombo had found the horse dead of horse-sickness
half a day away, and further on — only a mile or so
from the store — the rider lying on his back in the sun,
dying of thirst. He died before they got him in.
He was buried under a big fig-tree where another
and more honoured grave was made later on.
*****
Jim sat by himself the whole evening and never
spoke a word.
IT was Pettigrew's Road that brought home to me,
and to others, the wisdom of the old transport riders'
maxim : * Take no risks.' We all knew that there
were ' fly ' belts on the old main road but we rushed
these at night, for we knew enough of the tsetse fly
to avoid it ; however the discovery of the new road
to Barberton, a short cut with plenty of water and
grass, which offered the chance of working an extra
trip into the short Delagoa season, tempted me,
among others, to take a risk. We had seen no ' fly '
when riding through to spy out the land, and again
on the trip down with empty waggons all had
seemed to be well ; but I had good reason afterwards
to recall that hurried trip down and the night spent
at Low's Creek. It was a lovely moonlight night,
cool and still, and the grass was splendid ; after many
weeks of poor feeding and drought the cattle revelled
in the land of plenty. We had timed our treks so as
to get through the suspected parts of the road at night,
believing that the fly did not trouble after dark, and
thus we were that night outspanned in the worst spot
411
of all — a tropical garden of clear streams, tree ferns,
foliage plants, mosses, maidenhair, and sweet grass !
I moved among the cattle myself, watching them feed
greedily and waiting to see them satisfied before in-
spanning again to trek through the night to some higher
and more open ground. I noticed then that their
tails were rather busy. At first it seemed the usual
accompaniment of a good feed, an expression of satis-
faction ; after a while, however, the swishing became
too vigorous for this, and when beads began to swing
round and legs also were made use of, it seemed clear
that something was worrying them. The older hands
were so positive that at night cattle were safe from
fly, that it did not even then occur to me to suspect
anything seriously wrong. Weeks passed by, and
although the cattle became poorer, it was reasonable
enough to put it down to the exceptional drought.
It was late in the season when we loaded up for the
last time in Delagoa and ploughed our way through
the Matolla swamp and the heavy sands at Piscene ;
but late as it was, there was no sign of rain, and the
rain that we usually wanted to avoid would have been
very welcome then. The roads were all blistering
stones or powdery dust, and it was cruel work for man
and beast. The heat was intense, and there was no
breeze ; the dust moved along slowly apace with us
in a dense cloud — men, waggons, and animals, all toned
to the same hue ; and the poor oxen toiling slowly along
drew in the finely-powdered stuff at every breath.
At the outspan they stood about exhausted and pant-
ing, with rings and lines of brown marking where the
412
moisture from nostrils, eyes and mouths had caught
the dust and turned it into mud. At Matolla Poort,
where the Lebombo Range runs low, where the
polished black rocks shone like anvils, where the stones
and baked earth scorched the feet of man and beast
to aching, the world was like an oven ; the heat came
from above, below, around — a thousand glistening
surfaces flashing back with intensity the sun's fierce
rays. And there, at Matolla Poort, the big pool had
given out !
Our stand-by was gone ! There, in the deep cleft in
the rocks where the feeding spring, cool and constant,
had trickled down a smooth black rock beneath another
overhanging slab, and where ferns and mosses had
clustered in one little spot in all the miles of blistering
rocks, there was nothing left but mud and slime. The
water was as green and thick as pea-soup ; filth of all
kinds lay in it and on it ; half a dozen rotting carcases
stuck in the mud round the one small wet spot where
the pool had been — just where they fell and died ;
the coat had dropped away from some, and mats of
hair, black brown and white, helped to thicken the
green water. But we drank it. Sinking a handker-
chief where the water looked thinnest and making a
little well into which the moisture slowly filtered, we
drank it greedily.
The next water on the road was Komati River, but
the cattle were too weak to reach it in one trek, and
remembering another pool off the road — a small
lagoon found by accident when out hunting the year
before — we moved on that night out on to the flats
and made through the bush for several miles to loo
for water and grass.
We found the place just after dawn. There was
a string of half a dozen pools ringed with yellow-
plumed reeds — like a bracelet of sapphires set in gold —
deep deep pools of beautiful water in the midst of
acres and acres of rich buffalo grass. It was too in-
credibly good 1
I was trekking alone that trip, the only white man
there, and — tired out by the all-night's work, the long
ride, and the searching in the bush for the lagoon — I
had gone to sleep after seeing the cattle to the water
and grass. Before midday I was back among them
again ; some odd movements struck a chord of memory,
and the night at Low's Creek flashed back. Tails
were swishing freely, and the bullock nearest me kicked
up sharply at its side and swung its head round to
brush something away. I moved closer up to see what
was causing the trouble : in a few minutes I heard a
thin sing of wings, different from a mosquito's, and
there settled on my shirt a grey fly, very like and not
much larger than a common house-fly, whose wings
folded over like a pair of scissors. That was the
" mark of the beast." I knew then why this oasis
had been left by transport-rider and trekker, as nature
made it, untrodden and untouched.
Not a moment was lost in getting away from the
1 fly.' But the mischief was already done ; the cattle
must have been bitten at Low's Creek weeks before,
and again that morning during the time I slept ; and
it was clear that, not drought and poverty, but ' fly '
414
was the cause of their weakness. After the first rains
they would begin to die, and the right thing to do
now was to press on as fast as possible and deliver the / [
loads. Barberton was booming and short of supplies
and the rates were the highest ever paid ; but I had
done better still, having bought my own goods, and
the certain profit looked a fortune to me. Even if
all the cattle became unfit for use or died, the loads
would pay for everything and the right course there-
fore was to press on ; for delay would mean losing
both cattle and loads — all I had in the world — and
starting again penniless with the years of hard work
thrown away.
So the last hard struggle began. And it was work
and puzzle day and night, without peace or rest ;
trying to nurse the cattle in their daily failing strength,
and yet to push them for all they could do ; watching
the sky cloud over every afternoon, promising rain
that never came, and not knowing whether to call it
promise or threat ; for although rain would bring grass
and water to save the cattle, it also meant death to the
fly-bitten.
We crossed the Komati with three spans — forty-
four oxen — to a waggon, for the drift was deep in two
places and the weakened cattle could not keep their
feet. It was a hard day, and by nightfall it was easy
to pick out the oxen who would not last out a week.
That night Zole lay down and did not get up again —
Zole the little fat schoolboy, always out of breath,
always good-tempered and quiet, as tame as a pet
dog.
4*5
He was only the first to go ; day by day others
followed. Some were only cattle : others were old
friends and comrades on many a trek. The two big
after-oxen Achmoed and Bakir went down early ;
the Komati Drift had over-tried them, and the weight
and jolting of the heavy disselboom on the bad roads
finished them off. These were the two inseparables
who worked and grazed, walked and slept, side by
side — never more than a few yards apart day or night
since the day they became yoke-fellows. They died
on consecutive days.
But the living wonder of that last trek was still
old Zwaartland the front ox ! With his steady sober
air, perfect understanding of his work, and firm clean
buck-like tread, he still led the front span. Before
we reached the Crocodile his mate gave in — worn to
death by the ebbing of his own strength and by the
steady indomitable courage of his comrade. Old
Zwaartland pulled on ; but my heart sank as I looked
at him and noted the slightly ' staring ' coat, the
falling flanks, the tread less sure and brisk, and a look
in his eyes that made me think he knew what was
coming out would do his best.
The gallant-hearted old fellow held on. One after
another we tried with him in the lead, half a dozen
or more ; but he wore them all down. In the dongas
and spruits, where the crossings were often very bad
and steep, the waggons would stick for hours, and the
wear and strain on the exhausted cattle was killing :
it was bad enough for the man who drove them. To
see old Zwaartland then holding his ground, never for
A T O
i-i- A \J
one moment turning or wavering while the others
backed jibbed and swayed and dragged him staggering
backwards, made one's heart ache. The end was
sure : flesh and blood will not last for ever ; the
stoutest heart can be broken.
The worst of it was that with all the work and strain
we accomplished less than we used to do before in a
quarter of the time. Distances formerly covered in
one trek took three, four, and even five now. Water,
never too plentiful in certain parts, was sadly dimin-
ished by the drought, and it sometimes took us three
or even four treks to get from water to water. Thus
we had at times to drive the oxen back to the last place
or on to the next one for their drinks, and by the time
the poor beasts got back to the waggons to begin their
trek they had done nearly as much as they were able
to do.
And trouble begot trouble, as usual ! Sam the
respectable, who had drawn all his pay in Delagoa,
gave up after one hard day and deserted me. He said
that the hand of the Lord had smitten me and mine,
and great misfortune would come to all ; so he left
in the dark at Crocodile Drift, taking one of the
leaders with him, and joined some waggons making
for Lydenburg. The work was too hard for him ;
it was late in the season ; he feared the rains and fever ;
and he had no pluck or loyalty, and cared for no one
but himself.
I was left with three leaders and two drivers to
manage four waggons. It was Jim who told me of
Sam's desertion. He had the cross, defiant, pre-
41/ 2 D
occupied look of old ; but there was also something
of satisfaction in his air as he walked up to me and
stood to deliver the great vindication of his own
unerring judgment :
" Sam has deserted you and taken his voorlooper."
He jerked the words out at me, speaking in Zulu.
I said nothing. It was just about Sam's form ; it
annoyed but did not surprise me. Jim favoured me
with a hard searching look, a subdued grunt, and a
click expressive of things he could not put into words,
and without another word he turned and walked back
towards his waggon. But half-way to it he broke
silence : facing me once more, he thumped his chest
and hurled at me in mixed Zulu and English : " I
said so ! Sam lead a Bible. Sam no good. Umph !
M'Shangaan ! I said so ! I always said so ! "
When Jim helped me to inspan Sam's waggon, he did
it to an accompaniment of Zulu imprecations which
only a Zulu could properly appreciate. They were
quite t above my head,' but every now and then I
caught one sentence repeated like the responses in a
litany : " I'll kill that Shangaan when I see him again !"
At Lion Spruit there was more bad luck. Lions
had been troublesome there in former years, but for
a couple of seasons nothing had been seen of them.
Their return was probably due to the fact that, because
of the drought and consequent failure of other waters,
the game on which they preyed had moved down
towards the river. At any rate, they returned un-
expectedly and we had one bad night when the cattle
were unmanageable, and their nerves all on edge.
418
The herd-boys had seen spoor in the afternoon ; at
dusk we heard the distant roaring, and later on, the
nearer and more ominous grunting. I fastened Jock
up in the tent waggon lest the sight of him should
prove too tempting ; he was bristling like a hedgehog
and constantly working out beyond the cattle, glaring
and growling incessantly towards the bush. We had
four big fires at the four corners of the outspan, and
no doubt this saved a bad stampede, for in the morning
we found a circle of spoor where the lions had walked
round and round the outspan. There were scores of
footprint-; — the tracks of at least four or five animals.
In the Bushveld the oxen were invariably tied up
at night, picketed to the trek-chain, each pair at its
yoke ready to be inspanned for the early morning trek.
Ordinarily the weight of the chain and yokes was
sufficient to keep them in place, but when there were
lions about, and the cattle liable to be scared and all
to sway off together in the same direction, we took the
extra precaution of pegging down the chain and anchor-
ing the front yoke to a tree or stake. We had a lot
of trouble that night, as one of the lions persistently
took his stand to windward of the cattle to scare them
with his scent. We knew well enough when he was
there, although unable to see anything, as all the oxen
would face up-wind, staring with bulging eye-balls
in that direction and braced up tense with excitement.
If one of them made a sudden move, the whole lot
jumped in response and swayed off down wind away
from the danger, dragging the gear with them
and straining until the heavy
419
waggons yielded to the tug. We had to run out
and then drive them up again to stay the stampede.
It is a favourite device of lions, when tackling camps
and outspans, for one of them to go to windward
so that the terrified animals on winding him may
stampede in the opposite direction where the other
lions are lying in wait.
Two oxen broke away that night and were never seen
again. Once I saw a low light-coloured form steal
across the road, and took a shot at it ; but rifle-shooting
at night is a gamble, and there was no sign of a hit.
I was too short-handed and too pressed for time to
make a real try for the lions next day, and after a
morning spent in fruitless search for the lost bullocks
we went on again.
Instead of fifteen to eighteen miles a day, as we
should have done, we were then making between four
and eight — and sometimes not one. The heat and
the drought were awful ; but at last we reached the
Crocodile and struck up the right bank for the short
cut — Pettigrew's Road — to Barberton, and there we
had good water and some pickings of grass and young
reeds along the river bank.
The clouds piled up every afternoon ; the air grew
still and sultry ; the thunder growled and rumbled ;
a few drops of rain pitted the dusty road and pattered
on the dry leaves ; and that was all. Anything seemed
preferable to the intolerable heat and dust and drought,
and each day I hoped the rain would come, cost what
it might to the fly-bitten cattle ; but the days dragged
on, and still the rain held off.
420
Then came one black day as we crawled slowly
along the river bank, which is not to be forgotten.
In one of the cross-spruits cutting sharply down to the
river the second waggon stuck : the poor tired-out
cattle were too weak and dispirited to pull it out.
Being short of drivers and leaders it was necessary to
do the work in turns, that is, after getting one waggon
through a bad place, to go back for another. We had
to double-span this waggon, taking the span from the
front waggon back to hook on in front of the other ;
and on this occasion I led the span while Jim drove.
We were all tired out by the work and heat, and I lay
down in the dusty road in front of the oxen to rest
while the chains were being coupled up. I looked up
into old Zwaartland's eyes, deep, placid, constant,
dark grey eyes — the ox-eyes of which so many speak
and write and so few really know. There was
trouble in them ; he looked anxious and hunted ; and
it made me heart-sick to see it.
When the pull came, the back span, already dis-
heartened and out of hand, swayed and turned every
way, straining the front oxen to the utmost ; yet
Zwaartland took the strain and pulled. For a few
moments both front oxen stood firm ; then his mate
cut it and turned ; the team swung away with a rush,
and the old fellow was jerked backwards and rolled
over on his side. He struggled gamely, but it was
some minutes before he could rise ; and then his eye
looked wilder and more despairing ; his legs were
planted apart to balance him, and his flanks were
quivering.
421 *
' 7
Jim straightened up the double span again. Zwaart-
land leaned forward once more, and the others fol-
lowed his lead ; the waggon moved a little and they
managed to pull it out. But I, walking in front,
felt the brave old fellow stagger, and saw him, with
head lowered, plod blindly like one stricken to death.
We outspanned on the rise, and I told Jim to leave
the reim on Zwaartland's head. Many a good turn
from him deserved one more from me — the last. I sent
Jim for the rifle, and led the old front ox to the edge
of the donga where a bleached tree lay across it. ...
He dropped into the donga under the dead tree ; and
I packed the dry branches over him and set fire to the
pile. It looks absurd now ; but to leave him to the
wolf and the jackal seemed like going back on a friend ;
and the queer looks of the boys, and what they would
think of me, were easier to bear. Jim watched, but
said nothing : with a single grunt and a shrug of his
shoulders he stalked back to the waggons.
The talk that night at the boys' fire went on in
low-pitched tones — not a single word audible to me ;
but I knew what it was about. As Jim stood up to
get his blanket off the waggon, he stretched himself
and closed off the evening's talk with his Zulu click
and the remark that " All white men are mad, in some
way."
So we crawled on until we reached the turn where
1| the road turned between the mountain range and the
• river and where the railway runs to-day. There,
where afterwards Cassidy did his work, we outspanned
one day when the heat became so great that it was no
422
longer possible to go on. For weeks the storm-clouds
had gathered, threatened, and dispersed ; thunder
had come half-heartedly, little spots of rain enough
to pock-mark the dust ; but there had been no break
in the drought.
It was past noon that day when everything grew
still ; the birds and insects hushed their sound ; the
dry leaves did not give a whisper. There was the
warning in the air that one knows but cannot explain ;
and it struck me and the boys together that it was time
ta spread and tie down the buck-sails which we had
not unfolded for months.
While we were busy at this there came an un-
heralded flash and crash ; then a few drops as big as
florins ; and then the flood-gates were opened and
the reservoir of the long months of drought was
turned loose on us. Crouching under the waggon
where I had crept to lash down the sail, I looked out
at the deluge, hesitating whether to make a dash for
my tent-waggon or remain there.
All along the surface of the earth there lay for a
minute or so a two-feet screen of mingled dust and
splash : long spikes of rain drove down and dashed
into spray, each bursting its little column of dust
from the powdery earth. There was an indescribable
and unforgettable progression in sounds and smells
and sights — a growth and change — rapid yet steady,
inevitable, breathless, overwhelming. Little enough
could one realise in those first few minutes and in
the few square yards around ; yet there are details,
unnoticed at the time, which come back quite vividly
423
when the bewildering rush is over, and there are
impressions which it is not possible to forget.
There were the sounds and the smells and the
sights ! The sounds that began with the sudden
crash of thunder ; the dead silence that followed it ;
the first great drops that fell with such pats on the
dust ; then more and faster — yet still so big and
separate as to make one look round to see where they
fell ; the sound on the waggon-sail — at first as of
bouncing marbles, then the * devil's tattoo,' and then
the roar !
And outside there was the muffled puff and patter
in the dust ; the rustle as the drops struck dead leaves
and grass and sticks ; the blend of many notes that
made one great sound, always growing, changing and
moving on — full of weird significance — until there
came the steady swish and hiss of water upon water,
when the earth had ceased to stand up against the rain
and was swamped. But even that did not last ; for
then the fallen rain raised its voice against the rest,
and little sounds of trickling scurrying waters came
to tone the ceaseless hiss, and grew and grew until
from every side the chorus of rushing tumbling waters
filled the air with the steady roar of the flood.
And the smells ! The smell of the baked drought-
bound earth ; the faint clearing and purifying by
the first few drops ; the mingled dust and damp ;
the rinsed air ; the clean sense of water, water every-
where ; and in the end the bracing sensation in
nostrils and head, of, not wind exactly, but of swirling
air thrust out to make room for the falling rain ; and,
424
when all was over, the sense of glorious clarified air
and scoured earth — the smell of a new-washed world !
And the things that one saw went with the rest,
marking the stages of the storm's short vivid life.
The first puffs of dust, where drops struck like bullets ;
the cloud that rose to meet them ; the drops them-
selves that streaked slanting down like a flight of
steel ramrods ; the dust dissolved in a dado of splash.
I had seen the yellow-brown ground change colour ;
in a few seconds it was damp ; then mud ; then all
asheen. A minute more, and busy little trickles
started everywhere — tiny things a few inches Jong ;
and while one watched them they joined and merged,
hurrying on with twist and turn, but ever onward to
a given point— to meet like the veins in a leaf. Each
tuft of grass became a fountain-head : each space
between, a little rivulet : swelling rapidly, racing away
with its burden of leaf and twig and dust and foam
until in a few minutes all were lost in one sheet of
moving water.
Crouching under the waggon I watched it and saw
the little streamlets, dirty and debris-laden, steal
slowly on like sluggard snakes down to my feet, and
winding round me, meet beyond and hasten on.
Soon the grass-tufts and higher spots were wet ; and
as the water rose on my boots and the splash beat up
to my knees, it seemed worth while making for the
tent of the waggon. But in there the roar was deafen-
ing ; the rain beat down with such force that it drove
through the canvas-covered waggon-tent and greased
buck-sail in fine mist. In there it was black dark,
425
the tarpaulin covering all, and I slipped out again
back to my place under the waggon to watch the
storm.
We were on high ground which fell gently away on
three sides — a long spur running down to the river
between two of the numberless small watercourses
scoring the flanks of the hills. Mere gutters they were,
easy corrugations in the slope from the range to the
river, insignificant drains in which no water ever ran
except during the heavy rains. One would walk
through scores of them with easy swinging stride and
never notice their existence. Yet, when the half-
hour's storm was over and it was possible to get out and
look round, they were rushing boiling torrents, twenty
to thirty feet across and six to ten feet deep, foaming
and plunging towards the river, red with the soil of the
stripped earth, and laden with leaves, grass, sticks, and
branches — water-furies, wild and ungovernable, against
which neither man nor beast could stand for a moment.
When the rain ceased the air was full of the roar
of waters, growing louder and nearer all the time.
I walked down the long low spur to look at the river,
expecting much, and was grievously disappointed.
It was no fuller and not much changed. On either
side of me the once dry dongas emptied their soil-
stained and debris-laden contents in foaming cataracts,
each deepening the yellowy red of the river at its
banks ; but out in mid-stream the river was un-
disturbed, and its normal colour — the clear yellow
of some ambers — was unchanged. How small the
great storm seemed then ! How puny the flooded
426
creeks and dongas — yet each master of man and his
work ! How many of them are needed to make a real
flood!
There are few things more deceptive than the
tropical storm. To one caught in it, all the world
seems deluged and overwhelmed ; yet a mile away
it may be all peace and sunshine. I looked at the
river and laughed — at myself ! The revelation seemed
complete ; it was humiliating ; one felt so small.
Still, the drought was broken ; the rains had come ;
and in spite of disappointment I stayed to watch,
drawn by the scores of little things caught up and
carried by — the first harvest garnered by the rains.
A quarter of an hour or more may have been spent
thus, when amid all the chorus of the rushing waters
there stole in a duller murmur. Murmur it was at
first, but it grew steadily into a low-toned, monotoned,
distant roar ; and it caught and held one like the roar
of coming hail or hurricane. It was the river coming
down.
The sun was out again, and in the straight reach
above the bend there was every chance to watch the
flood from the bank where I stood. It seemed strangely
long in coming, but come it did at last, in waves like
the half-spent breakers on a sandy beach — a slope of
foam and broken waters in the van, an ugly wall with
spray-tipped feathered crest behind, and tier on tier
to follow. Heavens, what a scene ! The force of
waters, and the utter hopeless puniness of man ! The
racing waves, each dashing for the foremost place,
only to force the further on ; the tall reeds caught
427
waist high and then laid low, their silvery tops dipped,
hidden, and drowned in the flood ; the trees yielding,
and the branches snapping like matches and twirling
like feathers down the stream ; the rumbling thunder
of big boulders loosed and tumbled, rolled like marbles
on the rocks below ; whole trees brought down, and
turning helplessly in the flood — drowned giants with
their branches swinging slowly over like nerveless arms.
It was tremendous ; and one had to stay and watch.
Then the waves ceased ; and behind the opposite bank
another stream began to make its way, winding like
a huge snake, spreading wider as it went across the flats
beyond, until the two rejoined and the river became
one again. The roar of waters gradually lessened ;
the two cataracts beside me were silent ; and looking
down I saw that the fall was gone and that water ran to
water — swift as ever, but voiceless now — and was lost
in the river itself. Inch by inch the water rose towards
my feet ; tufts of grass trembled, wavered, and went
down ; little wavelets flipped and licked like tongues
against the remaining bank of soft earth below me ;
piece after piece of it leant gently forward, and toppled
headlong in the eager creeping tide ; deltas of yellow
scum-flecked water worked silently up the dongas,
reaching out with stealthy feelers to enclose the place
where I was standing ; and then it was time to go !
*****
The cattle had turned their tails to the storm, and
stood it out. They too were washed clean and looked
fresher and brighter ; but there was nothing in that !
Two of them had been seen by the boys moving slowly,
428
foot by foot, before the driving rain down the slope
from the outspan, stung by the heavy drops and yield-
ing in their weakness to the easy gradient. Only fifty
yards away they should have stopped in the hollow —
the shallow dry donga of the morning ; but they were
gone ! Unwilling to turn back and face the rain,
they had no doubt been caught in the rush of storm-
water and swirled away, and their bodies were bobbing
in the Crocodile many miles below by the time we
missed them.
In a couple of hours the water had run off ; the
flooded dongas were almost dry again ; and we moved
on.
It was then that the real ' rot ' set in. Next
morning there were half a dozen oxen unable to stand
up ; and so again the following day. It was no longer
possible to take the four waggons ; all the spare cattle
had been used up and it was better to face the worst
at once ; so I distributed the best of the load on the
other three waggons and abandoned the rest of it
with the fourth waggon in the bush. But day by
day the oxen dropped out, and when we reached the
Junction and branched up the Kaap, there were not
enough left for three waggons.
This time it meant abandoning both waggon and
load ; and I gave the cattle a day's rest then, hoping
that they would pick up strength on good grass to
face the eight drifts that lay between us and Barberton.
had not touched fresh meat for many days,
as there had been no time for shooting ; but I
knew that game was plentiful across the river in
the rough country between the Kaap and Croco-
•dile, and I started off to make the best of the
day's delay, little dreaming that it was to be the last
time Jock and I would hunt together.
Weeks had passed without a hunt, and Jock must
have thought there was a sad falling away on the part
of his master ; he no longer expected anything ;
the rifle was never taken down now except for an odd
shot from the outspan or to put some poor animal out
of its misery. Since the night with the lions, when he
had been ignominiously cooped up, there had been
nothing to stir his blood and make life worth living ;
and this morning as he saw me rise from breakfast
and proceed to potter about the waggons in the way
he had come to regard as inevitable, he looked on in-
differently for a few minutes and then stretched out
full length in the sun and went to sleep.
430
i could not take him with me across the river, as the
* fly ' was said to be bad there, and it was no place to
risk horse or dog. The best of prospects would not
have tempted me to take chance with him, but I hated
ordering him to stay behind, as it hurt his dignity
and sense of comradeship, so it seemed a happy accident
that he was asleep and I could slip away unseen. As
the cattle were grazing along the river-bank only a few
hundred yards off, I took a turn that way to have a
look at them, with natural but quite fruitless concern
for their welfare, and a moment later met the herd-boy
running towards me and calling out excitedly some-
thing which I made out to be :
" Crocodile ! Crocodile, Inkos ! A crocodile has
taken one of the oxen." The waggon-boys heard it
also, and armed with assegais and sticks were on the
bank almost as soon as I was ; but there was no
sign of crocodile or bullock. The boy showed
us the place where the weakened animal had gone
down to drink — the hoof slides were plain enough —
and told how, as it drank, the long black coffin-head had
appeared out of the water. He described stolidly how
the big jaws had opened and gripped the bullock's
nose ; how he, a few yards away, had seen ^//| 7"
the struggle ; how he had shouted and hurled "
his sticks and stones and tufts of grass, and
feinted to rush down at it ; and how,'
after a muffled bellow and a weak
staggering effort to pull back, the poor
beast had slid out into the deep water
and disappeared. It seemed to be a,
431
quite unnecessary addition to my troubles : misfor-
tunes were coming thick and fast !
Half an hour was wasted in watching and searching ;
but we saw no more of crocodile or bullock, and as
there was nothing to be done I turned up stream to
find a shallower and a safer crossing.
At best it was not pleasant : the water was waist-
high and racing in narrow channels between and over
boulders and loose slippery stones, and I was glad to
get through without a tumble and a swim.
The country was rough on the other side, and the
old grass was high and dense, for no one went there in
those days, and the grass stood unburnt from season
to season. Climbing over rocks and stony ground,
crunching dry sticks underfoot, and driving a path
through the rank tambookil grass, it seemed well-nigh
hopeless to look for a shot ; several times I heard buck
start up and dash off only a few yards away, and it
began to look as if the wiser course would be to turn
back. At last I got out of the valley into more level
and more open ground, and came out upon a ledge
or plateau a hundred yards or more wide, with a low
ridge of rocks and some thorns on the far side — quite
a likely spot. I searched the open ground from my
cover, and seeing nothing there crossed over to the
rocks, threading my way silently between them and
expecting to find another clear space beyond. The
snort of a buck brought me to a standstill among the
rocks, and as I listened it was followed by another and
another from the same quarter, delivered at irregular
intervals ; and each snort was accompanied by the
432
sound of trampling feet, sometimes like stamps of
anger and at other times seemingly a hasty movement.
I had on several occasions interrupted fights between
angry rivals : once two splendid koodoo bulls were
at it ; a second time it was two sables, and the vicious
and incredibly swift sweep of the scimitar horns still
lives in memory, along with the wonderful nimbleness
of the other fellow who dodged it ; and another time
they were blue wildebeeste ; but some interruption had
occurred each time, and I had no more than a glimpse
of what might have been a rare scene to witness.
I was determined not to spoil it this time : no doubt
it was a fight, and probably they were fencing and
circling for an opening, as there was no bump of heads
or clash of horns and no tearing scramble of feet to
indicate the real struggle. I crept on through the
rocks and found before me a tangle of thorns and
dead wood, impossible to pass through in silence ; it
was better to work back again and try the other side
of the rocks. The way was clearer there, and I crept
up to a rock four or five feet high, feeling certain from
the sound that the fight would be in full view a few
yards beyond. With the rifle ready I raised myself
slowly until my eyes were over the top of the rock.
Some twenty yards off, in an open flat of downtrodden
grass, I saw a sable cow : she was standing with feet
firmly and widely planted, looking fiercely in front of
her, ducking -her head in threatening manner every
few seconds, and giving angry snorts ; and behind,
and huddled up against her, was her scared bewildered
little red-brown calf.
433 2E
It seems stupid not to have guessed what it all meant ;
yet the fact is that for the few remaining seconds 1
was simply puzzled and fascinated by the behaviour
of the two sables. Then in the corner of my eye I
saw. away on my right, another red-brown thing come
into the open : it was Jock, casting about with nose
to ground for my trail which he had over-run at the
point where I had turned back near the deadwood
on . the other side of the rocks.
What happened then' was a matter of a second or
two. As I turned to look at him he raised his head,
bristled up all over, and made one jump forward ;
then a long low yellowish thing moved in the unbeaten
grass in front of the sable cow, raised its head sharply,
and looked full into my eyes ; and before I could
move a finger it shot away in one streak-like
bound. A wild shot at the lioness, as I jumped up
full height ; a shout at Jock to come back ; a scramble
of black and brown on my left ; and it was all over :
I was standing in the open ground, breathless with
excitement, and Jock, a few yards off, with hind-legs
crouched ready for a dash, looking back at me for leave
to go !
The spoor told the tale ; there was the outer circle
made by the lioness in the grass, broken in
where she had feinted to rush
in and stopped before the
lowered horns ; and inside
this there was the smaller
circle, a tangle of trampled
grass and spoor, where the
434
aces
brave mother had stood between her young and
death.
*****
Any attempt to follow the lioness after that would
have been waste of time. We struck off in a new
direction, and in crossing a stretch of level ground
where the thorn-trees were well scattered and the grass
fairly short my eye caught a movement in front that
brought me to instant standstill. It was as if the stem
of a young thorn-tree had suddenly waved itself and
settled back again, and it meant that some long-
horned buck, perhaps a koodoo or a sable bull, was
lying down and had swung his head ; and it meant
also that he was comfortably settled, quite unconscious
of danger. I marked and watched the spot, or rather,
the line, for the glimpse was too brief to tell more than
the direction ; but there was no other move. The
air was almost still, with just a faint drift from him
to us, and I examined every stick and branch, every
stump and ant-heap, every bush and tussock, without
stirring a foot. But I could make out nothing : I
could trace no outline and see no patch of colour,
dark or light, to betray him.
It was an incident very characteristic of Bushveld
hunting. There I stood minute after minute — not
risking a move, which would be certain to reveal me —
staring and searching for some big animal lying half-
asleep within eighty yards of me on ground that you
would not call good cover for a rabbit. We were in
the sunlight : he lay somewhere beyond, where a few
scattered thorn-trees threw dabs of shade, marbling
435
with dappled shade and light the already mottled
h surface of earth and grass. I was hopelessly beaten,
but Jock could see him well enough ; he crouched
beside me with ears cocked, and his eyes, all ablaze,
were fixed intently on the spot, except for an occa-
sional swift look up to me to see what on earth was
wrong and why the shot did not come ; his hind-legs
were tucked under him and he was trembling with
excitement. Only those will realise it who have been
through the tantalising humiliating experience. There
was nothing to be done but wait, leaving the buck to
make the first move.
And at last it came : there was another slight shake
of the horns, and the whole figure stood out in
bold relief. It was a fine sable bull lying in the
shadow of one of the thorn-trees with his back
towards us, and there was a small ant-heap close
behind him, making a greyish blot against his
black back and shoulder, and breaking the expanse
of colour which the eye would otherwise easily have
picked up.
The ant-heap made a certain shot impossible, so I
lowered myself slowly to the ground to wait until he
should begin feeding or change his position for comfort
or shade, as they often do : this might mean waiting
for half an hour or more, but it was better than risking
a shot in the position in which he was lying. I settled
down for a long wait with the rifle resting on my
knees, confidently expecting that when the time came
to move he would get up
slowly, stretch himself,
436
and have a good look round. But he did nothing of the
kind ; a turn or eddy of the faint breeze must have
given him my wind ; for there was one twitch of the
horns, as his nose was laid to windward, and without
an instant's pause he dashed off. It was- the quickest
thing imaginable in a big animal : it looked as though
he started racing from his lying position. The bush
was not close enough to save him, however, in spite
of his start, and through the thin veil of smoke I saw
him plunge and stumble., and then dash off again ; and
Jock seeing me give chase, went ahead and in half a
minute I was left well behind, but still in sight of the
hunt.
I shouted at Jock to come back, just as one murmurs
good-day to a passing friend in the din of traffic —
from force of habit : of course, he could hear nothing.
It was his first and only go at a sable ; he knew nothing
of the terrible horns and the deadly scythe-like sweep
that makes the wounded sable so dangerous — even the
lioness had fought shy of them — and great as was my
faith in him, the risk in this case was not one I would
have taken. There was nothing to do but follow.
A quarter of a mile on I drew closer up and found
them standing face to face among the thorns. It was
the first of three or four stands ; the sable, with a
watchful eye on me, always moved on as I drew near
enough to shoot. The beautiful black and white bull
stood facing his little red enemy and the fence and play
of feint and thrust, guard and dodge, was wonderful
to see. Not once did either touch the other ; at
Jock's least movement the sable's head would go down
437
with his nose into his chest and the magnificent horns
arched forward and poised so as to strike either right
or left, and if Jock feinted a rush either way the
scythe-sweep came with lightning quickness, covering
more than half a circle and carrying the gleaming points
with a swing right over the sable's own back. Then
he would advance slowly and menacingly, with horns
well forward ready to strike and eyes blazing through
his eyebrows, driving Jock before him.
There were three or four of these encounters in
which I could take no hand : the distance, the inter-
vening thorns and grass, and the quickness of their
movements, made a safe shot impossible; and there was
always the risk of hitting Jock, for a hard run does
not make for good shooting. Each time as the sable
drove him back there would be a short vicious rush
suddenly following the first deliberate advance, and
as Jock scrambled back out of the way the bull would
swing round with incredible quickness and be off
full gallop in another direction. Evidently the final
rush was a manoeuvre to get Jock clear of his heels
and flanks as he started, and thus secure a lead for the
next run.
Since the day he was kicked by the koodoo cow
Jock had never tackled an unbroken hind-leg ; a
dangling one he never missed ; but the lesson of the
flying heels had been too severe to be forgotten, and
he never made that mistake again. In this chase I
saw him time after time try at the sable's flanks and
run up abreast of his shoulder and make flying leaps
at the throat ; but he never got in front where the
438
horns could reach him, and although he passed and
repassed behind to try on the other side when he had
failed at the one, and looked up eagerly at the hind-
legs as he passed them, he made no attempt at them.
It must have been at the fourth or fifth stand that
Jock got through the guard at last. The sable was
badly wounded in the body and doubtless strength
was failing, but there was little evidence of this yet.
In the pauses Jock's tongue shot and slithered about,
a glittering red streak, but after short spells of panting,
his head would shut up with a snap like a steel trap
and his face set with that look of invincible resolution
which it got in part from the pursed-up mouth and
in part from the intensity of the beady black-brown
eyes : he was good for hours of this sort of work.
This time the sable drove him back towards a big
thorn-tree. It may have been done without design,
or it may have been done with the idea of pinning him
up against the trunk. But Jock was not to be caught
that way ; in a fight he took in the whole field, behind
as well as in front — as he had shown the night the second
wild dog tackled him. On his side, too, there may or
may not have been design in backing towards the tree ;
who knows ? I thought that he scored, not by a
manoeuvre, but simply because of his unrelaxing
watchfulness and ;his resolute unhesitating courage.
He seemed to know instinctively that
the jump aside, so safe with the
straight-charging animals, was no
CJ ro. baan-se-la) (N), a present.
BEKER {pro. beaker) (D), a cup.
BILLY, a small tin utensil with lid and handle, used for boiling water.
BUCKSAIL, tarpaulin used for covering transport waggons, which are
known as buck-waggons.
469 2 G 2
BUFFALO, Cape buffalo (Bos Caffer). Height, 5 ft. 6 in.; weight,
possibly 1000 Ibs. ; horns, 48 in. from tip to tip and 36 in. each
in length on curve.
BULTONG, or BILTONG (fro. biltong) (n), meat cut in strips, slightly
salted, and dried in the open air.
BUSHBUCK, a medium-sized but very courageous antelope (Trage-
laphm scriptus). Height, 3 ft. ; weight, 1 30 Ibs. ; horns (male only),
l8in.
BUSHVELD, properly BOSCHVELD (D), bush country; also called Low
Veld and Low Country.
CANE RAT (Thryonomys szvinderenianus).
CETYWAYO (see KETSHWAYO).
CHAKA, properly TSHAKA (N), the first of the great Zulu kings and
founder of the Zulu military power.
DASSIE (pro. daas-ey) (D), rock-rabbit ; coney (Procavia (Hyrax) ca-
pensls] (lit. little badger).
DINGAAN, properly DINGAN (E) (N), the second of the great Zulu
kings; brother, murderer, and successor of Chaka.
DISSELBOOM (D), the pole of a vehicle.
DONGA (N), a gully or dry watercourse with steep banks.
DOUGHBOYS, scones ; frequently unleavened dough baked in coals ;
also ash-cakes, roaster cookies, stick-in-the-gizzards, veld-bricks,
&c.
DRIFT (D), a ford.
DUIKER (pro. in Eng. dyker, in Dutch dayker) (D), a small antelope
found throughout Africa (Cephalophus grimmi). Gross weight,
30 to 40 Ibs.; height, 28 in.; horns, 5 £ in. (///. diver, so called from
its habit of disappearing and reappearing in low scrub in a suc-
cession of bounds when it first starts running).
GO'WAY BIRD, the grey plantain eater (Schizorhis concolor)*
HARTEBEESTE (pro. haar-te-beast) (D), a large antelope, of which there
are several varieties, varying in gross weight from 300 to 500 Ibs.
Height, 48 in.; horns, 24 in.
HIGHVELD, properly HOOGEVELD (D), high country; the plateau, about
5000 to 6000 ft. above sea-level.
470
HONEY BIRD, the honey guide (several species ; family, Indicatoriaa).
HONEY-SUCKER, sunbird (several species ; family, Nectariniidee).
HORSE-SICKNESS, a lung affection prevalent during summer in low-
lying parts ; generally fatal ; caused by microbes introduced in the
blood by some insect.
IMPALA (N), an antelope (j&pyceros melampus) ; habitat, Bushveld ;
weight, 140 Ibs. ; horns, up to 20 in., straight.
IMPI (pro. impey) (N), an army or body of armed natives gathered for
or engaged in war.
INDUNA (pro. in-doo-nah) (N), a head-man, captain, or chief, great or
petty.
INKOS (pro. in-kos — ' os ' as in verbose) (N), chief; used as a term of
respect in address or salutation.
INSPAN, properly ENSPAN (D), to yoke up, harness up, or hitch up.
ISANDHL'WANA, also 'SANDHL'WANA, incorrectly ISANDULA (pro. saan-
shle-waa-na), meaning ' the little hand,' the hill which gave the
name to the battle in which the 24th Regiment was annihilated
in the Zulu War, 1879.
KAFFIR CORN, sorghum.
KAHLE (pro. kaa-shle, corrupted in kitchen Kaffir to * gaashly ')
(N), gently, carefully, pleasantly, well. 'Hamba kahle,' farewell,
go in peace. ' Hlala (pro. shlala) kahle,' farewell, stay in peace.
KEHLA (pro. keh-shlaa) (N), a native of certain age and position
entitled to wear the head ring. Dutch, ring kop — ring head.
KERRIE, or KIRRIE, native sticks used for fighting, frequently knobbed;
hence, knob-kerrie.
KETSHWAYO (pro. ketsh-wy-o), incorrectly CETYWAYO, fourth and last
of the great Zulu kings.
KLIPSPRINGER (D), a small antelope, in appearance and habit rather
like chamois (Oreotragus saltator) (lit. a rock-jumper).
KLOOF (D), a gorge.
KNEEHALTER (D), to couple the head to one foreleg by a reim or strap
attached to the halter, closely enough to prevent the animal
from moving fast.
KNOORHAAN, commonly, but incorrectly, KOORHAAN or KORAAN,
(D), the smaller bustard (lit. scolding cock).
471
KOODOO, properly KUDU (N) (Strepslceroi capensis). Habitat, rugged
bushy country. Height, 5 ft.; weight, 600 Ibs.; horns, up to
48 in. straight, and 66 in. on curve.
KOPJE (pro. copy) (D), a hill (///. a little head).
KRAAL (pro. in Eng. crawl) (r>), an enclosure for cattle, sheep, &c.,
a corral ; also a collection of native huts, the home of a family,
the village of a chief or tribe.
KRANS (D), often spelt KRANTZ (German) (D. krans, a circlet or crown),
a precipitous face or coronet of rock on a hill or mountain.
LAGAVAAN, a huge water lizard, the monitor. Cape Dutch, lagewaan
(pure Dutch, laguaan) (Varanus niloticus). Maximum length up
to 8 ft.
LOOPER, round shot for fowling-piece, about four times the size of
buck shot.
MARVLA, in Zulu UMGANO, a tree which furnishes soft white wood,
which is carved into bowls, spoons, &c. ; fruit eaten or fermented
for drink (Sclerocarya caffra).
MEERKAT (D), a small animal of the mongoose kind (properly applied
to Suricata tetradactyla, but loosely to several species).
MIDDLEVELD, properly MIDDELVELD (D), the mixed country lying
between the Highveld and the Bushveld.
NEKSTROP (D), the neck-strap, or reim, which, attached to the
yokeskeys, keeps the yoke in place.
Nix (D), nothing (from D. mets).
ORIBI (N), a small antelope (Ourebia scoparia). Weight, 30 Ibs.;
height, 24 in.; horns, 6 in.
OUTSPAN, properly UITSPAN (D), to unyoke or unharness; also the camp
where one has outspanned, and places where it is customary, or
by law permitted, to outspan.
PAUW (pro. pow) (n), the great bustard (//'/. peacock).
PANDA, properly 'MPANDE (N), the third of the great Zulu kings.
PEZULU (N), on top, up, above.
PARTRIDGE, PHEASANT, names applied somewhat loosely to various
species of francolin.
POORT (pro. pooh-rt) (D), a gap or gorge in a range of hills (///. gate).
472
QUAGGA, zebra (correctly applied to Equus quagga, now extinct, but
still applied to the various species of zebra found in South
Africa).
REIM (pro. reem) (D), a stout strip of raw hide.
REIMPJE (pro, reempy) (D), a small reim.
RIETBUCK, properly (D) RIETBOK (pro. reet-buck), reed buck (Cervi-
capra arundlnum ). Height, 3 ft. 6 in. ; gross weight, 140 Ibs. ;
horns, male only, up to 1 6 in.
SABLE ANTELOPE (Hippotragus nlger ; Dutch, ztvaart witpens]. Habitat,
bushveld. Height, 4 ft. 6 in. ; weight, 350 Ibs. ; horns, up to
48 in. on curve.
SAKUBONA (N), Zulu equivalent of Good day.'
SALTED HORSE, one which has had horse-sickness, and is thus con-
sidered immune (as in small-pox) ; hence ' salted ' is freely used
colloquially as meaning acclimatised, tough, hardened, &c.
SCHANS (pro. skaans) (D), a stone or earth breastwork for defence,
very common in old native wars.
SCHELM (D), a rascal ; like Scotch skellum.
SCHERM (pro. skarem) (D), a protection of bush or trees, usually against
wild animals.
SJAMBOK (pro. in English shambok, in Dutch saam-bok) (D), taper-
ing raw-hide whip made from rhinoceros, hippopotamus, or
giraffe skin.
SKEY (-pro. skay), a yokeskey ; short for Dutch jukskei.
SLOOT (D), a ditch.
SPAN (D), a team.
SPOOR (D), footprints ; also a trail of man, animal, or vehicle.
SPRINGBUCK, properly SPRINGBOK (D), a small antelope (Antidorcas
(Gazella)euchore). Habitat, highveld andother open grass country.
Height, 30 in. ; weight, up to 90 Ibs. ; horns, 19 in. (//Y. jumping
buck).
SPRUIT (pro. sprait ; also commonly, but incorrectly, sproot) (D), a
stream.
SQUIRREL, or TREE RAT, native nam&''M.cm'XAAxr>(Funisciurus pa/Iiatus).
STEMBUCK (Cape Dutch, stembok or stelnbok, from the pure Dutch
steenbok, the Alpine ibex), a small antelope (Raphlcerus cam-
testais}. Height, 22 in. ; weight, 25 Ibs. ; horns, 5 in.
473
STOKP (pro. stoop) (D), a raised promenade or paved verandah in front
or at sides of a house.
TAMBUKI GRASS, also TAMBOOKIE, and sometimes TAMBUTI (N), a very
rank grass ; in places reaches I 5 ft. high and stem diameter £ in.
TICK, or RHINOCEROS, BIRD, the 'ox-pecker' (Buphaga Africana).
TIGER. In South Africa the leopard is generally called a tiger ; first so
described by the Dutch — tijger.
TOCK-TOCKIE, a slow-moving beetle, incapable of flight. Gets its
name from its means of signalling by rapping the abdomen on
the ground (tenebrionid beetle of the genus Psammodes).
TREK (D) (lit. to pull), to move off or go on a journey; a journey,
an expedition — e.g., the Great Trek (or exodus of Boers from
Cape Colony, 1836-48); also, and commonly, the time, distance,
or journey from one outspan to another.
TREK GEAR, the traction gear, chain, yokes, &c., of a waggon. The
Boer pioneers had no chains, and used reiins plaited into a stout
' rope ' ; hence trek-touw, or pulling-rope.
TSESSEBE, an antelope, one of the hartebeeste family (Damaliscus luna-
tus; Dutch, bastard hartebeeste). Height, 48 in.; weight. 300 Ibs.;
horns, 15 in.
TSETSE FLY, a grey fly, little larger than the common house fly, whose
bite is fatal to domesticated animals.
TWIGGLE, little people's word for the excited movement of a small
dog's tail, believed to be a combination of wriggle and twiddle.
UMFAAN (N), a boy.
UMGANAAM (N), my friend.
UMLUNGU (N), the native word to describe a white man.
VELD (pro. felt) (D), the open or unoccupied country ; uncultivated
or grazing land.
VLEI (fro. flay) (D), a small, shallow lake, a swamp, a depression
intermittently damp, a water meadow.
VOORLOOPER (D) (lit. front walker), the leader, the boy who leads the
front oxen ; the paf-intambu (Zulu for ' take the reim ').
VOORSLAG (pro. foor-slaach) (D) (lit. front lash or skin), the strip of
buck hide which forms the fine end of a whip-lash.
474
WATEREUCK (Cobus ellipsipry mnus ; Dutch, kring-gat). Height, 48
in.; weight, 350 Ibs.; horns, males only, 36 in.
WILDEBEESTE (pro. vill-de-beast) (D) (/;/. wild cattle), the brindled
gnu, blue wildebeeste (Connochaetes taurinus). Height, 4 ft. 6 in.;
weight, 400 Ibs.; horns, 30 in.
WILD DOG, the ' Cape hunting dog' (Lycaon pictui).
WOODEN ORANGE, fruit of the klapper (a species of Strychnos).
WOLF, the usual name for the hyena, derived from tijger-wolf, the
pure Dutch name for the spotted hyena.
YOKESKEY, the wooden slat which, coupled by nekstrops, holds the
yoke in place.
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