The Young Yagers: A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa

Now our Bushman, Swartboy, understood the process as well as any of his race; and it was in watching him mixing the ingredients and poisoning his arrows that Klaas and Jan spent the early portion of that day.

All the ingredients he carried with him; for whenever a “geel coppel,” (Naja haje), or a “spuugh-slang,” (Naja nigra), or the “puff-adder,” (Vipera arretans), or the horned viper, (Cerastes caudalis,) – whenever any of these was killed on the route – and many were – Swartboy took care to open the poison-gland, situated behind their fangs, and take therefrom the drop of venom, which he carefully preserved in a small phial. He also carried another ingredient, a species of bitumen obtained from certain caverns, where it exudes from the rocks. The object of this is not, as supposed by some travellers, to render the charm “more potent,” but simply to make it glutinous, so that it would stick securely to the barb of the arrow, and not brush off too easily. A similar result is obtained by the South American Indians from a vegetable gum.

The gift-bol, or poison-bulb, was easily obtained, as the species of Amaryllis that yields it grew plentifully near. But Swartboy had not trusted to this chance, as during past days he had plucked several of the roots, and put them away in one of the side-chests of the wagon, where many other little knick-knacks of his lay snugly stowed.

Klaas and Jan, therefore, had the rare chance of witnessing the manufacture of the celebrated arrow-poison.

They saw Swartboy bruise the gift-bol, and simmer it over the fire in a small tin pan which he had; they saw him drop in the precious snake-venom; they saw him stir it round, until it became of a very dark colour, and then, to their great astonishment, they saw him try its strength by tasting!

This seemed odd to both, and so may it to you, boy reader, – that a drop of poison, the smallest portion of which would have killed Swartboy as dead as a herring, could be thus swallowed by him with impunity! But you are to remember that poisons, both vegetable and mineral, are very different in their nature. A small quantity of arsenic taken into the stomach will produce death, and yet you might swallow the head of a rattlesnake, fangs, poison-gland, and all, without the slightest danger.

On the contrary, if a single grain of the latter were to enter your blood, even if it were only scratched in with a pin, its effects would be fatal, while other poisons may be introduced into the blood without any fatal result.

Swartboy knew there was no arsenic or any species of “stomach-poison,” if I am allowed to use such a phrase, in his mixture. It was only “blood-poison,” which he might taste with impunity.

The bitumen was the last thing put into the pan; and when Swartboy had stirred it a while longer, and sufficiently thickened it, so that it would adhere to the barbs, he took down a quiver of arrows already made, and dipped each of them into the poison. As soon as the barbs had cooled, and the poison became well dried, the arrows were ready for use, and Swartboy intended that some of them should be used on that very day. Before the sun should set, he designed sending one or more of them through the skin of an ostrich.

Chapter Nineteen.

Decoying the Old Cock

It was not the process of mixing the arrow-poison, so much as the use to be made of it, that interested Klaas and Jan. They knew that the Bushman intended to try its effect on an ostrich that afternoon. More than that, Swartboy had promised they should actually see how he managed matters, and witness the death of the ostrich. With such a prospect before them, the boys were in high spirits all the fore-part of the day.

It was to be late in the afternoon, near sunset, in fact, before the sport should come off. Of course not till the return of the ostriches to their nest – for it was there the drama was to be enacted. The nest and its environs were to be the scene of the tragedy – the time a little before sunset. Such was Swartboy’s “programme.”

Of course Swartboy had leave from the older boys to go upon almost whatever expedition he pleased, but certainly upon this one, since Klaas and Jan were so interested about it. Indeed, some of the others would have liked to take part in the affair, but for certain reasons that could not be.

Some of the hunters had doubts as to the result. They knew the poisoned arrow would kill any ostrich. They did not doubt that. But how was Swartboy to get near enough to discharge one of his tiny shafts into the bird’s body? That was the question that puzzled them. He proposed doing so in broad daylight. Indeed there was no other time for him. All knew that before night the ostriches would return to their nest – as soon as the sun was low, and it became cooler, – but they knew also that the birds having found out what had happened in their absence would start off in alarm, and abandon the nest altogether.

Swartboy, therefore, would have no darkness to shelter him from their gaze. How was he to approach them within the range required for his small bow – that is, within less than fifty yards?

Did he intend to place himself in ambush and wait for their return? If he did, it must be near the nest, else he would have but a poor chance. There was no knowing in what direction the birds might come back, or which way they would scamper off again.

Now for Swartboy to conceal himself near the nest, all believed to be an impossibility. There was not a bit of cover within five hundred yards of the spot – neither bush nor stone big enough to conceal the body of a man from creatures less wary than ostriches, but from these a cat could not have hidden her carcass within a circle of a thousand yards diameter. As to Swartboy’s sinking a “shooting-hole” and lying await in that, the boys never thought of such a thing. A shooting-hole surrounded by bushes might do for a lion, or a rhinoceros, or an elephant, but no ostrich could be bamboozled by any such ruse; for these birds – that on account of their appearance have been called stupid by some superficial observers – are in reality the very reverse. The slightest alteration in the form of the ground, either around their nests or near it, would be noted by them, and would prevent them from approaching it, except after such a reconnoissance as would defeat all Swartboy’s plans. But he had no thought of a shooting-hole – nothing of the sort.

What plan, then, had he in his mind? The boys could not guess; and Swartboy, like all cunning hunters, did not care to tell his plans to everybody. He preferred letting them discover them by his acts; and as all of them were hunters themselves and boys of good breeding, they did not persecute him with idle questions, but watched his preparations in silence.

Now one of his preparations, made before starting, was to take the little fennec that had been killed in the morning, and “truss” it with a number of skewers, in such a way that it stood upright upon its legs, and at a short distance looked as if it was “alive and well!”

This was Swartboy’s last act, before setting out for the ostriches’ nest.

When it was finished, Swartboy observed that the sun was low enough, and taking the fennec under his army and his bow in his hand, he struck off over the plain.

The boys were to be spectators of the affair, but that was rather in a figurative sense. There were two pocket telescopes, and when Swartboy promised that Klaas and Jan should be witnesses of the thing, he had these telescopes in his mind. For certain reasons he could not take any of the boys along with him, and from the wary character of the game they could not go near enough to observe it with the naked eye. To have done so would have driven the ostriches out of Swartboy’s reach, for it has been already stated that these far-seeing birds can sight an enemy farther off than they can themselves be seen.

The telescopes, therefore, must be brought into play, and as Klaas and Jan begged to have the use of them, it was arranged that the two boys should climb into a tree, and describe what they saw to the rest, who stood below. That would be witnessing a spectacle by a sort of second sight, as Arend jocosely remarked.

Klaas and Jan were therefore hoisted up into a camel-thorn acacia; and, seating themselves on its branches, prepared their telescopes for use.

The elevation enabled them not only to see the nest, for that was visible from the ground, but the surface of the plain to a considerable distance beyond. They would thus be enabled to note every movement either Swartboy or the ostriches should make.

Now it has been stated that within a circle of five hundred yards radius from the nest, there was no cover that would have concealed a cat. With the exception of a stone here and there – none of them larger than a quartern loaf – the sandy surface was perfectly smooth and level as a table.

The boys had noticed this in the morning. Hendrik and Groot Willem had taken good notice of it, for they, as well as Swartboy, had thought of “waylaying” the ostriches on their return, but had given up the idea, from the fact of there being no cover to conceal them from the eyes of the wary birds.

But just outside the circumference mentioned, there was a chance of cover – a bush that by tight squeezing might have sheltered the body of a man. Both Hendrik and Groot Willem had seen this bush, but on account of its great distance from the nest they had never thought of its being used as a cover. Five hundred yards off, – it might as well have been five miles. Even had it been on the side by which the ostriches had gone off, and by which they, the hunters, conjectured they would return, the bush might have served. A shot might have been obtained as the birds came back to the nest. But it was not on that side, – on the very opposite – and in the direction of the camp. Neither Hendrik nor Groot Willem had entertained the idea of lying behind it.

Swartboy had; and to this bush now repaired Swartboy as straight as he could go. For what purpose? To conceal himself behind it, and wait for the ostriches. That was his design.

But what would his arrows avail – poisoned as they were – at the distance of five hundred yards? Ah! Swartboy knew what he was about. Let us record his movements in the words of Klaas and Jan, who watched them narrowly.

“Swartboy has reached the bush,” reported Jan; “he lays down his bow and arrows beside it. Now he has gone away from it. He is proceeding in a straight line towards the nest. He has the fox with him. See! he stops again, – a little beyond the bush he has halted – between it and the nest, but nearer the bush.”

“Very near the bush,” said Klaas; “not twenty yards from it, I’m sure.”

“Well, what does he do there?” demanded Hendrik. “He appears to be stooping?”

“He is stooping,” replied Jan. “Let me see! He’s got the fox in his hands, he is placing it on the ground! He has left it! I declare, it is standing by itself, as if it were alive!”

“It’s very clear what he intends by that,” said Hans; “I can understand now how he means to get the birds within range.”

“And I!” rejoined Hendrik.

“And I!” echoed Groot Willem.

“Now,” continued Jan, “he’s going on to the nest – he has reached it, and is walking round and round, and stooping and kicking with his feet. I can’t tell what he’s about – can you, Klaas?”

“I think,” replied Klaas, “he’s trying to cover up the broken shells we left there.”

“Oh! that’s exactly it!” said Jan. “See! he’s stooping over the nest, he has lifted an egg in his hand!”

It is to be remembered that only the fresh eggs were brought away in the morning. Those in the nest that had undergone hatching were of course let alone – all except one or two, that had been broken to “try” them.

“He’s coming back this way,” said Jan. “He has the egg in his hand! Now he has put it down right under the snout of the fox!”

“Ha!” ejaculated Hans, Groot Willem, and Hendrik, “how cunning of old Swart!”

“Now,” continued Jan, “he’s back to the bush: and now he’s squatted down behind it.”

After a little while both Klaas and Jan announced that Swartboy was making no further movements, but continued to lie quietly.

Now the secret of Swartboy’s strategy lay in his knowledge of a fact in natural history, – a knowledge of the antipathy that exists between the ostrich and the egg-eating fox. Swartboy’s experience had taught him the habits of the fennec, and also the hostile feeling of the ostrich towards this enemy. So strong is this feeling on the part of the bird, that whenever it sets its eye upon one of these creatures it will run directly towards it, for the purpose of destroying it. On such occasions the speed of the quadruped will not save it. Unless its burrow be nigh, or some thick bush or cleft among the rocks offer it a shelter, a single kick from the legs of the mighty bird at once puts an end to its prowling existence.

Swartboy knew all this, and for that reason had he set his decoy. Conspicuously placed, the birds would be sure to see it; and with their nest half plundered, and one of the eggs still under its very nose, they would not be slow in coming up to take revenge upon the poor fennec, the supposed robber, and to them well-known burglar.

“The ostriches are coming!” cried the sharp-sighted Jan, after a long pause.

“Where?” asked Klaas. “I don’t see them yet; – where, Jan?”

“Yonder,” replied Jan. “Beyond the nest, – far off.”

“Oh, now I see!” said Klaas; “just the way they went off in the morning; three of them, – a cock and two hens, – they are the same, I suppose.”

“Now they are getting up near the nest,” reported Jan; “now they are up to it. See them! What are they doing? they are running about in a terrible way. See! their heads move up and down, – they are striking with their legs. What are they about?”

“I think,” rejoined Klaas, – “I declare I think they are breaking the eggs.”

“Not a doubt of it,” remarked Hans. “That is always their way when they return and find the nest disturbed either by a human being or an animal. No doubt that is what they are at.”

Hendrik and Groot Willem confirmed this statement by their assent.

“Oh!” exclaimed Jan, “they have left the nest, – they are coming this way, – they are coming towards Swartboy, – how fast they run! Hey – they are upon the fennec! Ho! they have kicked it over! See, they are pecking it with their bills and knocking it about like a foot-ball. Hurrah! such a jolly game as is going on yonder!”

“What is old Swart doing, anyhow? They’re near enough for a shot.”

“He’s doing something,” answered Klaas. “I’m sure I saw him move. Did he not draw his bow yonder?”

“He did,” replied Jan; “he has let off an arrow. I saw his arms move suddenly. See, the ostriches are off again. Ho! they are quite gone!”

It was not so, however; for, although the three ran off on hearing the twang of the Bushman’s bow, they did not run far. After going some quarter of a mile or so, the cock began to droop his wings and run round in circles, the hens all the while following. His movements now became of a very eccentric kind, and it was plain that Swartboy’s arrow had pierced him, and the poison was doing its work. The bird reeled like a drunken man, once or twice fell to its knees, rose again, ran on a piece farther, flapping its wings, and vibrating its long neck from side to side; and then, staggering forward, fell upon the plain!

For several minutes it continued to flutter, kicking out with its strong limbs, and raising the dust as if it had been a buffalo. At length its struggles ceased, and it lay motionless upon the sand.

The two hens still continued near, and from their actions were evidently both surprised and alarmed. They did not, however, attempt to run off, until Swartboy, knowing they were far beyond the reach of his bow, rose up from his ambush, and walked towards them. Then both took to their heels, and scouring off over the plain, were soon out of sight. Klaas and Jan now reported that Swartboy was stooping over the dead cock, and, as they believed, skinning him.

That was exactly what Swartboy was doing, for, about an hour after, he came into camp carrying the skin upon his shoulders, and with an air of triumph, that plainly said —

“Congo, could you do that?”

Chapter Twenty.

A Brush with the Brindled Gnoo

The young yägers resolved to stay a couple of days longer by the fountain in the mokhala grove. Their object was to wait until the flesh of the blue-buck – which is excellent eating – should be reduced to biltong. They did not know what chance of game there might be upon their route for the next five or six days. The way was new to all of them – even to the guide Congo, who had only a general knowledge of that part of the country. They were heading for the Molopo River, and Congo knew how to find that well enough; but their route through the interlying country he knew nothing about. There might be plenty of game – there might be a great scarcity of it – he could not tell.

Of course neither could Swartboy. The hunters were now out of the Bushman country and into a territory inhabited by poor tribes of the great Bechuana family. Swartboy’s native district lay to the southwest, in the direction of Namaqualand. He had never been so far east in his life, and of course was quite a stranger to the route they were pursuing.

Under these circumstances Hans, who from his age and superior wisdom was looked upon as a sort of leader, recommended that they should not go forward until they had properly jerked the flesh of the blue-buck.

That, with what remained of the gemsbok, would secure them against falling short of provision, should game prove scarce. They would only have to tarry a couple of days longer. That would be sufficient under such a strong sun to dry the biltong properly, whereas if packed without being well cured, the hot weather would spoil it directly, and they might be left in the lurch without a morsel of meat.

Their stay at their present camp was, therefore, prolonged for two days, during which time the flesh of the blue-buck, with the remaining parts of that of the oryx, hanging in red festoons from the branches of the acacias, became dark, stiff, and hard to the touch, and was then in a condition to keep for several weeks if required.

But the young yägers did not remain constantly by the camp during all the intervening time. The biltong required no watching. It had been hung upon branches, sufficiently high to place it beyond the reach of prowling jackals and hyenas at night, and during the day there was always some one by the camp to keep off the vultures.

On the first of these two days the young yägers mounted, all six, and rode off to the grassy plains, where they had hunted the blue-buck, in hopes of falling in either with this or some other species of antelope.

They were not disappointed. On arriving at the plain, they perceived that it was occupied – not by one, but by several kinds of creatures. Three species of animals were seen upon it. Far out was a herd of small creatures, whose lyre-shaped horns, and yellow dun bodies, told that they were springboks, – a fact made plain by their strange behaviour, – by individuals of the herd now and then bounding up into the air, and throwing open the marsupial folding of skin over their croups, and displaying the long snow-white hair that lines that singular pouch.

Not far from these, and occasionally mixing among them, was a drove of larger animals, whose singular colour and markings could not be mistaken. They were dauws, or, in the clumsy language of the closet naturalists, “Burchell’s zebras,” (Equus Burchellii). It has been already stated that this species differs from the true zebra in several respects. Its ground colour is light sienna, while that of the zebra is nearly white. The stripes upon the former are dark brown, while those of the latter are pure black; but the most characteristic difference in the markings is, that in the true zebra the stripes continue in rings down the legs to the very hoofs, while in the dauw the legs are white. The ears and tail of the zebra are more asinine than those of the dauw, while the tail of the latter is much the longer, as indeed is the body of the animal.

Both are beautiful creatures – perhaps the most beautiful quadrupeds in the world – a fine horse always excepted. But in point of beauty the true zebra certainly excels the “Burchell.” They are very different in their habits – the zebra being a mountain-dwelling animal, while the dauw is strictly a denizen of the open plains, in places similar to those frequented by the quagga. Although it never herds with the latter, in habits it resembles their species more than it does the zebra. Observation of this fact by the boor hunters has led to the name among these people of “bonte quagga,” (painted quagga.)

The third kind of animals upon the plain was a very remarkable species; so odd in form and movements were they, that no one who had once seen either them, or a picture of them, could afterwards fail to recognise them. The young yägers had never set eyes upon them before, but they had all seen a kindred species, which, except in colour and a few minor details, is very like them. They had all seen the “wildebeest” or “gnoo,” and this enabled them at once to recognise the “blauw-wildebeest,” or “brindled gnoo,” for such they were.

They differ from the common wildebeest in being larger, somewhat heavier in form, scarcely so well shaped about the head and neck – the latter not curving as in the common species – more shaggy in the mane, the nose-tuft, and the long hair on the throat and breast. In colour they are quite different, being of a dirty bluish tint, variegated with irregular stripes, or “brindles.” Hence their trivial names of “blauw” wildebeest and “brindled” gnoo.

The two kinds, “gnoo” and “brindled gnoo,” are never found on the same plains; but give place to each other. The range of the latter species extends farthest to the north. They are scarcely ever found alone, but generally accompanied by droves of the dauw; (Burchell’s zebra or bonte quagga); and, what is a singular fact, the common species is rarely seen, except in company with the common quagga. Although neither of these keep company with their own congeners they yet live socially with one another, both also herding at times with springboks, hartebeests, and ostriches. A singular and interesting sight it is to see the gnoos, antelopes, and wild asses, curveting and galloping over the plain, now wheeling in circles, now halting in line, anon charging from point to point, like troops of cavalry in a review, while the ostriches stalk about or stand motionless, their tall forms rising high above the rest, as if they were the officers and generals-in-chief of the spectacle! Such a picture is often presented upon the karoo plains of Southern Africa.

As soon as the young yägers came in sight of the plain, they pulled up their horses, and sat for some moments regarding the lively scene that was exhibited upon its surface. The springboks were browsing, though some individuals were constantly in the air bounding up as if for their own amusement. The dauws were trooping about, sometimes halting, and sometimes galloping from point to point, as if in play or alarmed by some intruder. The brindled gnoos, that is the cows, were browsing in a herd of thirty or forty in number, while the bulls stood around in small groups of three or four individuals, not moving, but apparently keeping a solemn watch over the others, every now and then snorting loudly, and uttering a sharp and peculiar cry, as if intended for some voice of warning or instruction. For hours the old bulls will hold this position, keeping apart from the rest, each little knot of them apparently conversing among themselves, while acting as sentries to the general herd of dauws, antelopes, and their own wives.

After a few minutes’ deliberation, the hunters agreed to make their attack upon the herd of gnoos. They formed no plan. Stalking would be of little use, as they believed they would be able to ride down the wildebeest, and get a running shot; and it was to these they designed to give all their attention. The dauws – beautiful creatures as they were – were of no use as game, and it was game the party wanted. The springboks did not interest them; but the flesh of the wildebeest would have been a treat to all. It is excellent eating, resembling beef rather than venison – for the gnoo is in reality more of an ox than an antelope.