The Mission by Frederick Marryat (page 5)

Treated kindly, they have done good in return to the farmers by watching their sheep, and performing other little services, and have been rewarded with tobacco. This has given them confidence to a certain degree. But we must expect to meet with others that are equally wild, and who will be very mischievous; attempting to drive off our cattle, and watching in ambush all round our caravan, ready for any pilfering that they can successfully accomplish; and then we shall discover that we are in their haunts without even seeing them.”

“How so?”

“Because it will only be by their thefts that we shall find it out. But it is time for bed, and as to-morrow is Sunday you will have a day of rest, which I think you both require.”

“I do,” replied Alexander, “so good-night to you both.”

CHAPTER XXII.

As arranged, they did not travel on the Sunday. Early in the morning the oxen and horses and sheep were turned out to pasture; all except the horse which had been ridden by Alexander on the preceding day, and which was found to be suffering so much that they took away a large quantity of blood from him before he was relieved.

The Bushmen still remained with them, and were likely to do so as long as there was any prospect of food. The four buffaloes which had been killed, as well as the horse which had been gored to death, were found picked clean to the bones on the following day, by the hyenas and other animals which were heard prowling during the whole night. But as large quantities of the buffalo-flesh had been cut off, and hung upon the trees near the caravan, there was more than sufficient for a second feast for the Bushmen and Hottentots, and there was nothing but frying and roasting during the whole of the day.

The sun was intensely hot, and Alexander and the Major both felt so fatigued from the exertions of the day before, that after breakfast they retired to their wagons, and Swinton did not attempt to disturb them, as they were in a sound sleep till the evening, when they were much refreshed and very hungry. Swinton said he had thought it better that they should not be awakened, as the heat was so overpowering, and they could perform Divine service in the evening, if they thought proper, when it would be cooler. This was agreed to, and, after an early supper, they summoned all the Hottentots, who, although gorged, were still unwilling to leave their fires; as they said the Bushmen would devour all the flesh that was left, in their absence.

This remonstrance was not listened to, and they all assembled. The prayers were read and the service gone through by the light of a large fire, for it was very dark before the service was finished. The Bushmen, as the Hottentots prophesied, had taken advantage of their absence, to help themselves very liberally; and as Swinton read the prayers, the eyes of the Hottentots were continually turning round to their own fires, where the Bushmen were throwing on large pieces of buffalo-flesh, and, before they were even heated through, were chewing them and tearing them to pieces with their teeth.

Never perhaps was there a congregation whose attention was so divided, and who were more anxious for the conclusion of the service. This uneasiness shown by the Hottentots appeared at last to be communicated to the oxen, which were tied up round the wagons. The fire required replenishing, but none of the Hottentots moved to perform the office; perhaps they thought that if Swinton could no longer see, the service must conclude: but Swinton knew it by heart, and continued reading the Commandments, which was the last portion which he read, and Alexander and the Major repeated the responses. The Major, whose face was toward the cattle, had observed their uneasiness, and guessed the cause, but did not like to interrupt the service, as it was just over. Begum began clinging to him in the way she always did when she was afraid; Swinton had just finished, and the Major was saying, “Swinton, depend upon it,” when a roar like thunder was heard, and a dark mass passed over their heads.

The bellowing and struggling of the oxen was almost instantaneously succeeded by a lion, with an ox borne on his shoulder, passing right through the whole congregation, sweeping away the remnants of the fire and the Hottentots right and left, and vanishing in a moment from their sight. As may be imagined, all was confusion and alarm. Some screamed, some shouted and ran for their guns; but it was too late. On examination, it was found that the lion had seized the ox which had been tied up near to where they were sitting; their fire being nearly extinguished, and the one which should have been kept alight next to it altogether neglected by the Hottentots, in their anxiety to keep up those on which they had been broiling their buffalo-steaks.

The leather thongs by which the ox had been tied up were snapped like threads, and many of the other oxen had, in their agony of fear, broken their fastenings and escaped. As the lion bounded away through the assembled party, it appeared as if the ox was not a feather’s weight to him. He had, however, stepped rather roughly upon two of the Hottentots, who lay groaning, as if they had been severely hurt; but upon examination it was found that they had only been well scratched and covered with ashes. The Bushmen, however, had left their meal, and with their bows and small poisoned arrows had gone in pursuit. Bremen and one or two of the Hottentots proposed also to go, but our travelers would not permit them. About an hour afterward the Bushmen returned, and Omrah had communication with them; and through Bremen they learned that the Bushmen had come up with the lion about a mile distant, and had discharged many of their arrows at him, and, they were convinced, with effect, as a heavy growl or an angry roar was the announcement when he was hit; but, although he was irritated, he continued his repast. Omrah then said, “Lion dead to-morrow,–Bushmen find him.”

“Well,” said Alexander, as they went to their wagons, which, in consequence of this event, and their having to make up large fires before they went to bed, they did not do till late, “I believe this is the first time that Divine service was ever wound up by such intrusion.”

“Perhaps so,” replied Swinton; “but I think it proves that we have more cause for prayer, surrounded as we are by such danger. The lion might have taken one of us, and by this time we should have suffered a horrid death.”

“I never felt the full force of the many similes and comparisons in the Scriptures, where the lion is so often introduced, till now,” observed Alexander.

“It was indeed a most awful sermon after the prayers,” said the Major: “I trust never to hear such a one again: but is it not our own fault? This is the second time that one of our oxen has been carried off by a lion, from the circle of fires not being properly attended to. It is the neglect of the Hottentots, certainly; but if they are so neglectful, we should attend to them ourselves.”

“It will be as well to punish them for their neglect,” said Swinton, “by stopping their tobacco for the week; for if they find that we attend to the fires ourselves, they will not keep one in, that you may depend upon. However, we will discuss that point to-morrow, so good-night.”

Omrah came to the Major the next morning, before the oxen were yoked, to say that the Bushmen had found the lion, and that he was not yet dead, but nearly so; that the animal had dragged away that portion of the ox that he did not eat, about half a mile further; that there he had lain down, and he was so sick that he could not move.

At this intelligence they mounted their horses, and, guided by the Bushmen, arrived at the bush where the lion lay. The Bushmen entered at once, for they had previously reconnoitered, and were saluted with a low snarl, very different from the roar of the preceding night. Our travelers followed, and found the noble creature in his last agonies, his strength paralyzed, and his eyes closed. One or two of the small arrows of the Bushmen were still sticking in his hide, and did not appear to have entered more than half an inch; but the poison was so subtle, that it had rapidly circulated through his whole frame; and while they were looking down upon the noble beast, it dropped its jaws and expired.

As our travelers turned back to join the caravan, Alexander observed: “Those Bushmen, diminutive as they are in size, and contemptible as their weapons appear, must be dangerous enemies, when the mere prick of one of their small arrows is certain death. What is their poison composed of?”

“Of the venom extracted from snakes, which is mixed up with the juice of the euphorbia, and boiled down till it becomes of the consistency of glue. They then dip the heads of the arrows into it, and let it dry on.”

“Is then the venom of snakes so active after it has been taken away from the animal?”

“Yes, for a considerable time after. I remember a story, which is, I believe, well authenticated, of a man who had been bitten through his boot by a rattlesnake in America. The man died, and shortly afterward his two sons died one after the other, with just the same symptoms as their father, although they had not been bitten by snakes. It was afterward discovered that upon the father’s death the sons had one after the other taken possession of and put on his boots, and the boots being examined, the fang of the rattlesnake was discovered to have passed through the leather and remained there. The fang had merely grazed the skin of the two sons when they put on the boots, and had thus caused their death.”

“Are the snakes here as deadly in their poison as the rattlesnake of America?”

“Equally so,–that is, two or three of them; some are harmless. The most formidable is the cobra capella (not the same as the Indian snake of the same name). It is very large, being usually five feet long; but it has been found six and even seven feet. This snake has been known to dart at a man on horseback, and with such force as to overshoot his aim. His bite is certain death, I believe, as I never heard of a man recovering from the wound.”

“Well, that is as bad as can be. What is the next?”

“The next is what they call the puff adder. It is a very heavy, sluggish animal, and very thick in proportion to its length, and when attacked in front, it can not make any spring. It has, however, another power, which, if you are not prepared for it, is perhaps equally dangerous –that of throwing itself backward in a most surprising manner. This is, however, only when trod upon or provoked; but its bite is very deadly. Then two of the mountain adders are among the most dangerous snakes here. The mountain adder is small, and, from its not being so easily seen and so easily avoided, is very dangerous, and its bite as fatal as the others.”

“I trust that is the end of your catalogue?”

“Not exactly; there is another, which I have specimens of, but whose faculties I have never seen put to the test, which is called the spirting snake. It is about three feet long, and its bite, although poisonous, is not fatal. But it has a faculty, from which its name is derived, of spirting its venom into the face of its assailant, and if the venom enters the eye, at which the animal darts it, immediate blindness ensues. There are a great many other varieties, some of which we have obtained possession of during our journey. Many of them are venomous, but not so fatal as the first three I have mentioned.

“Indeed, it is a great blessing that the Almighty has not made the varieties of snakes aggressive or fierce,–which they are not. Provided, as they are, with such dreadful powers, if they were so, they would indeed be formidable; but they only act in self-defense, or when provoked. I may as well here observe, that the Hottentots, when they kill any of the dangerous snakes, invariably cut off the head and bury it; and this they do, that no one may by chance tread upon it, as they assert that the poison of the fangs is as potent as ever, not only for weeks but months afterward.”

“That certainly is a corroboration of the story that you told us of the rattlesnake’s fang in the boot.”

“It is so; but although there are so many venomous snakes in this country, it is remarkable how very few accidents or deaths occur from them. I made an inquiry at the Moravian Mission, where these venomous snakes are very plentiful, how many people they had lost by their bites, and the missionaries told me, that out of 800 Hottentots belonging to the Mission, they had only lost two men by the bites of snakes during a space of seven years; and in other places where I made the same inquiry, the casualties were much less in proportion to the numbers.”

“Is the boa constrictor found in this part of Africa?”

“Not so far south as we now are, but it is a few degrees more to the northward. I have never seen it, but I believe there is no doubt of its existence.”

“The South American Indians have a very subtle poison with which they kill their game. Are you aware, Swinton, of its nature? Is it like the Bushmen’s poison?”

“I know the poison well; it was brought over by Mr. Waterton, whose amusing works you may have read. It is called the wourali poison, and is said to be extracted from a sort of creeping vine, which grows in the country. The natives, however, add the poison of snakes to the extract; and the preparation is certainly very fatal, as I can bear witness to.”

“Have you ever seen it tried?”

“Yes, I have tried it myself. When I was in Italy I became acquainted with Mr. W., and he gave two or three of us, who were living together, a small quantity, not much more than two grains of mustard-seed in size. We purchased a young mule to make the experiment upon; an incision was made in its shoulder, and the poison inserted under the skin. I think in about six or seven minutes the animal was dead. Mr. W. said that the effects would have been instantaneous, if the virtue of the poison had not somewhat deteriorated from its having been kept so long.”

“The wourali poison only acts upon the nerves, I believe?” said the Major.

“Only upon the nerves; and although so fatal, if immediate means are resorted to, a person who is apparently dead from it may be brought to life again by the same process as is usual in the recovery of drowned or suffocated people. A donkey upon which the poison had acted was restored in this manner, and for the remainder of his days permitted to run in Sir Joseph Banks’s park. But the poison of snakes acts upon the blood, and therefore occasions death without remedy.”

“But there are remedies, I believe, for even the most fatal poisons?”

“Yes, in His provident mercy God has been pleased to furnish remedies at hand, and where the snake exists the remedy is to be found. The rattlesnake root is a cure, if taken and applied immediately; and it is well known that the ichneumon when bitten by the cobra capella, in his attack upon it, will hasten to a particular herb and eat it immediately, to prevent the fatal effect of the animal’s bite.”

“I once saw a native of India,” said the Major, “who for a small sum would allow himself to be bitten by a cobra capella. He was well provided with the same plant used by the ichneumon, which he swallowed plentifully, and also rubbed on the wound. It is impossible to say, but, so far as I could judge, there was no deception.”

“I think it very possible; if the plant will cure the ichneumon, why not a man? I have no doubt but that there are many plants which possess virtues of which we have no knowledge. Some few, and perhaps some of the most valuable, we have discovered; but our knowledge of the vegetable kingdom, as far as its medicinal properties are known, is very slight; and perhaps many which were formerly known have, since the introduction of mineral antidotes, been lost sight of.”

“Why, yes; long before chemistry had made any advances, we do hear in old romances of balsams of most sovereign virtues,” said Alexander, laughing.

“Which, I may observe, is almost a proof that they did in reality exist; and the more so, because you will find that the knowledge of these sovereign remedies was chiefly in the hands of the Jews, the oldest nation upon the earth; and from their constant communication with each other, most likely to have transmitted their knowledge from generation to generation.”

“We have also reason to believe that not only they had peculiar _remedies_ in their times, but also–if we are to credit what has been handed down to us–that the art of _poisoning_ was much better understood,” said the Major.

“At all events, they had not the knowledge of chemistry which now leads to its immediate detection,” replied Swinton. “But, Alexander, there are three hippopotami lying asleep on the side of the river. Have you a mind to try your skill?”

“No, not particularly,” replied Alexander; “I have had enough of hippopotami. By the by, the river is much wider than it was.”

“Yes, by my calculation we ought to travel no more to the westward after to-day. We must now cut across to the Yellow or Val River. We shall certainly be two days without water or pasturage for the cattle, but they are in such good condition that they will not much feel it. There is a river which we shall cross near its head, but the chance of water is very small; indeed, I believe we shall find it nowhere, except in these great arteries, if I may so call them.”

“Well; I was thinking so myself, Swinton, as I looked at the map yesterday, when I lay in my wagon,” said the Major; “so then to-morrow for a little variety; that is, a desert.”

“Which it will most certainly be,” replied Swinton; “for, except on the banks of the large rivers, there are no hopes of vegetation in this country at this season of the year; but in another month we may expect heavy falls of rain.”

“The Bushmen have left us, I perceive,” said Alexander.

“Yes, they have probably remained behind to eat the lion.”

“What, will they eat it now that it has been poisoned?”

“That makes no difference to them; they merely cut out the parts wounded, and invariably eat all the carcasses of the animals which they kill, and apparently without any injury. There is nothing which a Bushman will not eat. A flight of locusts is a great feast to him.”

“I can not imagine them to be very palatable food.”

“I have never tasted them,” replied Swinton; “but I should think not. They do not, however, eat them raw; they pull off their wings and legs, and dry their bodies; they then beat them into a powder.”

“Do you suppose that St. John’s fare of locusts and wild honey was the locust which we are now referring to?”

“I do not know, but I should rather think not, and for one reason, which is, that although a person in the wilderness might subsist upon these animals, if always to be procured, yet the flights of locusts are very uncertain. Now there is a tree in the country where St. John retired, which is called the locust-tree, and produces a large sweet bean, shaped like the common French bean, but nearly a foot long, which is very palatable and nutritious. It is even now given to cattle in large quantities; and I imagine that this was the locust referred to; and I believe many of the commentators on the holy writings have been of the same opinion. I think we have now gone far enough for to-day; we may as well halt there. Do you intend to hunt, Major? I see some animals there at a distance.”

“I should say not,” said Alexander; “if we are to cross a desert tract to-morrow, we had better not fatigue our horses.”

“Certainly not. No, Swinton, we will remain quiet, unless game comes to us.”

“Yes, and look after our water-kegs being filled, and the fires lighted to-night,” said Alexander; “and I trust we may have no more sermons from lions, although Shakespeare does say, ‘sermons from stones, and good in everything.'”

They halted their caravan upon a rising ground, and having taken the precaution to see the water-kegs filled and the wood collected, they sat down to dinner upon fried ham and cheese; for the Hottentots had devoured all the buffalo-flesh, and demanded a sheep to be killed for supper. This was consented to although they did not deserve it; but as their tobacco had been stopped for their neglect of providing fuel and keeping up the fires, it was considered politic not to make them too discontented.

Alexander had been walking by the side of the river with the Major, while the Hottentots were arranging the camp, and Swinton was putting away some new specimens in natural history which he had collected, when Omrah, who was with them, put his finger to his lips and stopped them. As they perfectly understood what he required, they stood still and silent. Omrah then pointed to something which was lying on the low bank, under a tuft of rushes; but they could not distinguish it, and Omrah asked by signs for the Major’s rifle, took aim, and fired. A loud splashing was heard in the water, and they pushed their way through the high grass and reeds, until they arrived at the spot, where they perceived an animal floundering in the agonies of death.”

“An alligator!” exclaimed the Major; “well, I had no idea that there were any here inland. They said that there were plenty at the mouths of the rivers, on the coast of the Eastern Caffres, but I am astonished to find one here.”

“What did you fire at?” asked Swinton, who now joined them.

“An alligator, and he is dead. I am afraid that he won’t be very good eating,” replied the Major.

“That’s not an alligator, Major,” said Swinton, “and it is very good eating. It is a large lizard of the guana species, which is found about these rivers; it is amphibious, but perfectly harmless, subsisting upon vegetables and insects. I tell you it is a great delicacy, ugly as it looks. It is quite dead, so let us drag it out of the water, and send it up to Mahomed by Omrah.”

The animal, which was about four feet long, was dragged out of the water by the tail, and Omrah took it to the camp.

“Well, I really thought it was a small alligator,” said the Major; “but now I perceive my mistake. What a variety of lizards there appears to be in this country.”

“A great many from the chameleon upward,” replied Swinton. “By the by, there is one which is said to be very venomous. I have heard many well-authenticated stories of the bite being not only very dangerous, but in some instances fatal. I have specimens of the animal in my collection. It is called here the geitje.”

“Well, it is rather remarkable, but we have in India a small lizard, called the gecko by the natives, which is said to be equally venomous. I presume it must be the same animal, and it is singular that the names should vary so little. I have never seen an instance of its poisonous powers, but I have seen a whole company of sepoys run out of their quarters because they have heard the animal make its usual cry in the thatch of the building; they say that it drops down upon people from the roof.”

“Probably the same animal; and a strong corroboration that the report of its being venomous is with good foundation.”

“And yet if we were to make the assertion in England, we should in all probability not be believed.”

“Not by many, I grant–not by those who only know a little; but by those who are well informed, you probably would be. The fact is, from a too ready credulity, we have now turned to almost a total skepticism, unless we have ocular demonstration. In the times of Marco Polo, Sir John Mandeville, and others,–say in the fifteenth century, when there were but few travelers and but little education, a traveler might assert almost any thing, and gain credence; latterly a traveler hardly dare assert any thing. Le Vaillant and Bruce, who traveled in the South and North of Africa, were both stigmatized as liars, when they published their accounts of what they had seen, and yet every tittle has since been proved to be correct. However, as people are now better informed, they do not reject so positively; for they have certain rules to guide them between the possible and the impossible.”

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, for instance, that if a person was to tell me that he had seen a mermaid, with the body of a woman and the scaly tail of a fish, I should at once say that I could not believe him. And why? because it is contrary to the laws of nature. The two component parts of the animal could not be combined, as the upper portion would belong to the mammalia, and be a hot-blooded animal, the lower to a cold-blooded class of natural history. Such a junction would, therefore, be impossible. But there are, I have no doubt, many animals still undiscovered, or rather still unknown to Europeans, the description of which may at first excite suspicion, if not doubt. But as I have before observed, the account would, in all probability, not be rejected by a naturalist, although it might be by people without much knowledge of the animal kingdom, who would not be able to judge by comparison whether the existence of such an animal was credible. Even fabulous animals have had their origin from existing ones. The unicorn is, no doubt, the gemsbok antelope; for when you look at the animal at a distance, its two horns appear as if they were only one, and the Bushmen have so portrayed the animal in their caves. The dragon is also not exactly imaginary; for, the _Lacerta volans_, or flying lizard of Northern Africa, is very like a small dragon in miniature. So that even what has been considered as fabulous has arisen from exaggeration or mistake.”

“You think, then, Swinton, that we are bound to believe all that travelers tell us?”

“Not so; but not to reject what they assert, merely because it does not correspond with our own ideas on the subject. The most remarkable instance of unbelief was relative to the aerolites or meteoric stones formed during a thunder-storm in the air, and falling to the earth. Of course you have heard that such have occurred?”

“I have,” replied the Major, “and I have seen several in India.”

“This was treated as a mere fable not a century back; and when it was reported (and not the first time) that such a stone had fallen in France, the _savans_ were sent in deputation to the spot. They heard the testimony of the witnesses that a loud noise was heard in the air; that they looked up and beheld an opaque body descending; that it fell on the earth with a force which nearly buried it in the ground, and was so hot at the time that it could not be touched with the hand. It afterward became cold. Now the _savans_ heard all this, and pronounced that it could not be; and for a long while every report of the kind was treated with contempt. Now every one knows, and every one is fully satisfied of the fact, and not the least surprise is expressed when they are told of the circumstance. As Shakespeare makes Hamlet observe very truly–‘There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy.'”

CHAPTER XXIII.

There was no alarm during the night, and the next morning they yoked the oxen and changed their course to the northward. The whole of the cattle had been led down to the river to drink, and allowed two hours to feed before they started; for they were about to pass through a sterile country of more than sixty miles, where they did not expect to find either pasturage or water. They had not left the river more than three miles behind them, when the landscape changed its appearance. As far as the eye could scan the horizon, all vestiges of trees had disappeared, and now the ground was covered with low stunted bushes and large stones. Here and there were to be seen small groups of animals, the most common of which were the quaggas. As our travelers were in the advance, they started six or seven ostriches which had been sitting, and a ball from the Major’s rifle brought one to the ground, the others running off at a velocity that the fastest horse could scarcely have surpassed.

“That was a good shot, Major,” said Alexander.

“Yes,” replied Swinton; “but take care how you go too near the bird; you have broken his thigh, and he may be dangerous. They are very fierce. As I thought, here is the nest. Let Bremen kill the bird,–he understands them, Major. It is the male, and those which have escaped are all females.”

“What a quantity of eggs!” said Alexander. “Is the nest a joint concern?”

“Yes,” replied Swinton. “All those which are in the center of the nest with their points upward are the eggs for hatching. There are, let me see, twenty-six of them, and you observe that there are as many more round about the nest. Those are for the food of the young ostriches as soon as they are born. However, we will save them that trouble. Bremen must take the eggs outside the nest for us, and the others the people may have. They are not very particular whether they are fresh or not.”

“This is a noble bird,” said the Major, “and has some beautiful feathers. I suppose we may let Bremen take the feathers out and leave the body!”

“Yes; I do not want it; but Bremen will take the skin, I dare say. It is worth something at the Cape.”

As soon as the Hottentots had secured the eggs, and Bremen had skinned the ostrich, which did not occupy many minutes, they rode on, and Swinton then said–

“The male ostrich generally associates with from three to seven females, which all lay in the same nest. He sits as well as the females, and generally at night, that he may defend the eggs from the attacks of the hyenas and other animals.”

“You do not mean to say that he can fight these animals!”

“And kill them also. The ostrich has two powerful weapons; its wing, with which it has often been known to break a hunter’s leg, the blow from it is so violent; and what is more fatal, its foot, with the toe of which it strikes and kills both animals and men. I once myself, in Namaqua-land, saw a Bushman who had been struck on the chest by the foot of the ostrich, and it had torn open his chest and stomach, so that his entrails were lying on the ground. I hardly need say that the poor wretch was dead.”

“I could hardly have credited it,” observed Alexander.

“The Bushmen skin the ostrich, and spread the skin upon a frame of wicker-work; the head and neck are supported by a skin thrust through them. The skin they fix on one of their sides, and carry the head and neck in one of their hands, while the other holds the bow and arrows. In this disguise–of course with the feathered side of him presented to the bird or beast he would get near to–he walks along, pecking with the head at the bushes, and imitating the motions of the ostrich. By this stratagem he very often is enabled to get within shot of the other ostriches, or the quaggas and gnoos which consort with these birds.”

“I should like to see that very much,” said the Major.

“You would be surprised at the close imitation, as I have been. I ought to have said that the Bushman whitens his legs with clay. It is, however, a service of danger, for I have, as I told you, known a man killed by the male ostrich; and the natives say that it is by no means uncommon for them to receive very serious injury.”

“Hold hard,” said the Major, “there is a lion; what a terrible black mane he has got! What do you say, Swinton? He is by himself.”

Swinton looked at the animal, which was crossing about three hundred yards ahead of them; he was on a low hill, with his head close to the ground.

“I certainly say not. Let him pass, by all means; and I only hope he will take no notice of us. I must give you the advice which an old Namaqua chief gave me. He said–‘Whenever you see a lion moving in the middle of the day, you may be certain that he is in great want of food and very angry. Never attack one then, for they are very dangerous and most desperate,’ If, therefore, Major, you wish a very serious affair, and one or two lives lost you will attack that animal. But you must expect that what I say will happen.”

“Indeed, my dear Swinton, I neither wish to lose my own life, nor to risk those of others, and therefore we will remain here till his majesty has had time to get out of our way; and I hope he may soon find a dinner.”

By this time the caravan had come up with them, and they then proceeded. The face of the country became even more sterile, and at last not an animal of any description was to be seen. As there was nothing for the oxen to feed upon they continued their route during the whole of the day, and at night they halted and secured the cattle to the wagons. Wood for fires they were not able to procure, and therefore they made one half of the Hottentots watch during the night with their muskets to scare off wild beasts. But, as Swinton observed, there was little chance of their being disturbed by lions or other animals, as they were so distant from water, and there was no game near them upon which the wild beasts prey; and so it proved, for during the whole night they did not even hear the cry of a hyena or a jackal.

At the first gleaming of light the oxen were again yoked, with the hopes of their being able to gain the Val River by night. The relay oxen were now put to, to relieve those which appeared to suffer most. At noon the heat was dreadful, and the horses, which could not support the want of water as the oxen could, were greatly distressed. They continued for about two hours more, and then perceived a few low trees. Begum, who had been kept without water, that she might exert herself to find it, started off as fast as she could, followed by Omrah. After running to the trees, they altered their course to the eastward, toward some ragged rocks. The caravan arrived at the trees, which they found were growing on the banks of the river Alexandria, which they knew they should pass; but not a drop of water was to be discovered; even the pools were quite dry. As they searched about, all of a sudden Begum came running back screaming, and with every mark of terror, and clung, as usual, to the Major when frightened.

“Where is the Bushboy?” said Bremen.

“Something has happened,” cried Swinton; “come all of you with your guns.”

The whole party, Hottentots and all, hastened toward the rocks where Omrah and Begum had been in search of water. As soon as they reached within fifty paces, quite out of breath with their haste, they were saluted with the quah, quah, of a herd of baboons, which were perched at the edge of the rocks, and which threatened them in their usual way, standing on their fore-legs, and making as if they would fly at them.

“Now, then, what is to be done?” said the Major. “Shall we fire? Do you think that they have possession of the boy?”

“If they have, they will let him go. Yes, we are too numerous for them now, and they will not show fight, depend upon it. Let us all take good aim and fire a volley right into them.”

“Well, then, I’ll take that venerable old chap that appears to be the leader, and the great-grandfather of them all,” said the Major. “Are you all ready?–then fire.”

The volley had its effect; three or four of the animals were killed, many were wounded, and the whole herd went scampering off with loud shrieks and cries, the wounded trailing themselves after the others as well as they could.

The whole party then ascended the crags to look after Omrah–all but Begum, who would not venture. They had hardly gained the summit when they heard Omrah’s voice below, but could not see him. “There he is, sir,” said Swanevelt, “down below there.” Swinton and the Major went down again, and at last, guided by the shouts of the boy, they came to a narrow cleft in the rock, about twenty feet deep, at the bottom of which they heard, but could not see, the boy. The cleft was so narrow that none of the men could squeeze down it. Swinton sent one of them back for some leathern thongs or a piece of rope to let down to him.

During the delay, Bremen inquired of Omrah if he was hurt, and received an answer in the negative. When the rope came, and was lowered down to him, Omrah seized it, and was hauled up by the Hottentots. He appeared to have suffered a little, as his hair was torn out in large handfuls, and his shirt was in ribbons; but with the exception of some severe scratches from the nails of the baboons, he had no serious injury. Omrah explained to the Hottentots, who could talk his language, that Begum and he had come to the cleft, and had discovered that there was water at the bottom of it; that Begum had gone down, and that he was following, when the baboons, which drank in the chasm, had come upon them. Begum had sprung up and escaped, but he could not; and that the animals had followed him down, until he was so jammed in the cleft that he could descend no further; and that there they had pulled out his hair and torn his shirt, as they saw. Having heard Omrah’s story, and satisfied themselves that he had received no serious injury, they then went to where the baboons had been shot. Two were dead; but the old one, which the Major had fired at, was alive, although severely wounded, having received two shots, one in his arm and the other in his leg, which was broken by the ball. All the poor old creature’s fierceness appeared to have left him. It was evidently very weak from the loss of blood, and sat down leaning against the rock. Every now and then it would raise itself, and look down upon the wound in its leg, examining the hole where the bullet had passed through; then it would hold up its wounded arm with its other hand, and look them in the face inquiringly, as much as to say, “What have you done this for?”

“Poor creature,” said Alexander; “how much its motions are those of a human being. Its mute expostulation is quite painful to witness.”

“Very true,” said the Major; “but still, if it had not those wounds, it would tear you to pieces if it could.”

“That it certainly would,” said Swinton; “but still it is an object of pity. It can not recover, and we had better put it out of its misery.”

Desiring Bremen to shoot the animal through the head, our travelers then walked back to the caravan. As they returned by the banks of the river, they perceived Begum very busy, scraping up the baked mud at the bottom of a pool.

“What is the princess about?” said Alexander.

“I know,” cried Omrah, who immediately ran to the assistance of the baboon; and after a little more scraping, he pulled out a live tortoise about a foot long.

“I have heard that when the pools dry up, the tortoises remain in the mud till the pools are filled up again,” said Swinton.

“Are they good eating, Swinton?”

“Excellent.”

“Turtle soup in the desert, that’s something unexpected.”

The Hottentots now set to work and discovered five or six more, which they brought out. They then tried in vain to get at the water in the deep cleft, but finding it impossible, the caravan continued its course.

“How much more of this desert have we to traverse,” said Alexander, “before we come to the river?”

[Illustration: THE TORTOISE DISCOVERY.]

“I fear that we shall not arrive there before to-morrow night,” said Swinton, “unless we travel on during the night, which I think will be the best plan; for fatiguing as it will be to the animals, they will be even more exhausted if they pass another day under the sun without water, and at night they will bear their work better. We gain nothing by stopping, as the longer they are on the journey, the more they will be exhausted.”

“I am really fearful for the horses, they suffer so much.”

“At night we will wash their mouths with a sponge full of water; we can spare so much for the poor creatures.”

“In the deserts of Africa you have always one of three dangers to encounter,” said Swinton; “wild men, wild beasts, and want of water.”

“And the last is the worst of the three,” replied the Major. “We shall have a moon to-night for a few hours.”

“Yes, and if we had not, it would be of no consequence; the stars give light enough, and we have little chance of wild beasts here. We now want water; as soon as we get rid of that danger, we shall then have the other to encounter.”

The sun went down at last; the poor oxen toiled on with their tongues hanging out of their mouths. At sunset, the relay oxen were yoked, and they continued their course by the stars. The horses had been refreshed, as Swinton had proposed; but they were too much exhausted to be ridden, and our travelers, with their guns on their shoulders, and the dogs loose, to give notice of any danger, now walked by the sides of the wagons over the sandy ground. The stars shone out brilliantly, and even the tired cattle felt relief, from the comparative coolness of the night air. All was silent, except the creaking of the wheels of the wagons, and the occasional sighs of the exhausted oxen, as they thus passed through the desert.

“Well,” observed the Major, after they had walked about an hour without speaking, “I don’t know what your thoughts may have been all this while, but it has occurred to me that a party of pleasure may be carried to too great lengths; and I think that I have been very selfish, in persuading Wilmot to undergo all that we have undergone and are likely to undergo, merely because I wished to shoot a giraffe.”

“I presume that I must plead guilty also,” replied Swinton, “in having assisted to induce him; but you know a naturalist is so ardent in his pursuit that he thinks of nothing else.”

“I do not think that you have either of you much to answer for,” replied Alexander; “I was just as anxious to go as you were; and as far as I am concerned, have not the slightest wish to turn back again, till we have executed our proposed plans. We none of us undertook this journey with the expectation of meeting with no difficulties or no privations; and I fully anticipate more than we have yet encountered, or are encountering now. If I get back on foot, and without a sole left to my shoe, I shall be quite content; at the same time, I will not continue it if you both wish to return.”

“Indeed, my dear fellow, I have no wish but to go on; but I was afraid that we were running you into dangers which we have no right to do.”

“You have a right, allowing that I did not myself wish to proceed,” replied Alexander. “You escorted me safe through the country to ascertain a point in which you had not the slightest interest, and it would indeed be rewarding you very ill, if I were now to refuse to gratify you: but the fact is, I am gratifying myself at the same time.”

“Well, I am very glad to hear you say so,” replied the Major, “as it makes my mind at ease; what time do you think it is, Swinton?”

“It is about three o’clock; we shall soon have daylight, and I hope with daylight we shall have some sight to cheer us. We have traveled well, and can not by my reckoning be far from the Val River. Since yesterday morning we have made sixty miles or thereabouts; and if we have not diverged from our course, the poor animals will soon be relieved.”

They traveled on another weary hour, when Begum gave a cry, and started off ahead of the wagons; the oxen raised their heads to the wind, and those which were not in the yokes after a short while broke from the keepers, and galloped off, followed by the horses, sheep, and dogs. The oxen in the yokes also became quite unruly, trying to disengage themselves from the traces.

“They have smelt the water; it is not far off, sir,” said Bremen; “we had better unyoke them all, and let them go.”

“Yes, by all means,” said Alexander.

So impatient were the poor beasts, that it was very difficult to disengage them, and many broke loose before it could be effected; as soon as they were freed, they followed their companions at the same rapid pace.

“At all events, we shall know where to find them,” said the Major, laughing: “well, I really so felt for the poor animals that I am as happy as if I was as thirsty as they are, and was now quenching my thirst. It’s almost daylight.”

As the day dawned, they continued to advance in the direction that the animals had taken, and they then distinguished the trees that bordered the river, which was about two miles distant. As soon as it was broad daylight, they perceived that the whole landscape had changed in appearance. Even where they were walking there was herbage, and near to the river it appeared most luxuriant. Tall mimosa-trees were to be seen in every direction, and in the distance large forests of timber. All was verdant and green, and appeared to them as a paradise after the desert in which they had been wandering on the evening before. As they arrived at the river’s banks, they were saluted with the lively notes of the birds hymning forth their morning praise, and found the cattle, after slaking their thirst, were now quietly feeding upon the luxuriant grass which surrounded them.

“Well may the Psalmist and prophets talk of the beauty of flowing rivers,” said Alexander; “now we feel the truth and beauty of the language; one would almost imagine that the sacred writings were indited in these wilds.”

“If not in these, they certainly were in the Eastern countries, which assimilate strongly with them,” said Swinton; “but, as you truly say, it is only by having passed through the country that you can fully appreciate their beauties. We never know the real value of any thing till we have felt what it is to be deprived of it; and in a temperate climate, with a pump in every house, people can not truly estimate the value of ‘flowing rivers.'”

The Hottentots having now arrived, the cattle were driven back to the wagons and yoked, that they might be brought up to a spot which had been selected for their encampment. In the mean time our travelers, who were tired with their night’s walk, lay down under a large mimosa-tree, close to the banks of the river.

“We shall stay here a day or two, of course,” said the Major.

“Yes, for the sake of the cattle; the poor creatures deserve a couple of days’ rest.”

“Do you observe how the mimosas are torn up on the other side of the river?” said Swinton; “the elephants have been very numerous there lately.”

“Why do they tear the trees up?” said Alexander.

“To feed upon the long roots, which are very sweet; they destroy an immense number of the smaller trees in that manner.”

“Well, we must have another elephant-hunt,” said the Major.

“We may have hunts of every kind, I expect, here,” replied Swinton; “we are now in the very paradise of wild animals, and the further we go the more we shall find.”

“What a difference there is in one day’s journey in this country,” observed Alexander; “yesterday morning there was not a creature to be seen, and all was silent as death. Now listen to the noise of the birds, and as for beasts, I suspect we shall not have far to look for them.”

“No, for there is a hippopotamus just risen; and now he’s down again–there’s food for a fortnight at one glance,” cried the Major.

“How the horses and sheep are enjoying themselves–they are making up for lost time; but here come the wagons.”

“Well, then, I must get up and attend to my department,” said the Major. “I presume that we must expect our friends the lions again now.”

“Where there is food for lions, you must expect lions, Major,” said Swinton.

“Very true, and fuel to keep them off; by the by, turtle soup for dinner, recollect; tell Mahomed.”

“I’ll see to it,” said Alexander; “but we must have something for breakfast, as soon as I have had a wash at the river’s side. I would have a bath, only I have such a respect for the hippopotami.”

“Yes, you will not forget them in a hurry,” said Swinton, laughing.

“Not as long as I have breath in my body, for they took all the breath out of it. Come, Swinton, will you go with me, and make your toilet at the river’s banks?”

“Yes, and glad to do so; for I am covered with the sand of the desert.”

CHAPTER XXIV.

Our travelers remained very quiet that day and the next. The horses had suffered so much, that they required two days of rest, and they themselves were not sorry to be inactive after their fatiguing journey over the desert. The cattle enjoyed the luxuriant pasture, and although the tracks of the lions were discovered very near to them, yet, as they had plenty of fuel and attended themselves to the fires, they had not any visits from them during the night. The Hottentots had been out to reconnoiter, and found a profusion of game, in a large plain, about two miles distant; and it was decided that they would rest where they were for a day or two, if the game were not frightened away. The river had been crossed by Swanevelt, who stated that there was a large herd of elephants on the other side, and the tracks of the rhinoceros were to be seen on both sides of the river.

On the third morning after their arrival at the Val, they set off, accompanied by the Hottentots, to the plain which they had spoken of; riding through magnificent groups of acacia or camelthorn trees, many of which were covered with the enormous nests of the social grosbeaks. As they descended to the plain they perceived large herds of brindled gnoos, quaggas, and antelopes, covering the whole face of the country as far as the eye could reach, moving about in masses to and fro, joining each other and separating, so that the whole plain seemed alive with them.

“Is not this splendid?” cried the Major. “Such a sight is worth all the trouble and labor which we have undergone. What would they say in England, if they could but behold this scene?”

“There must be thousands and thousands,” said Alexander. “Tell me, Swinton, what beautiful animals are those of a purple color?”

“They are called the purple sassabys,” replied Swinton; “one of the most elegant of the antelope tribe.”

“And those red and yellow out there?”

“They are the harte beests. I wish to have male and female specimens of both, if I can.”

“See!” said the Major, “there is a fine flock of ostriches. We are puzzled where to begin. Come, we have surveyed the scene long enough; now forward,–to change it.”

They rode down, and were soon within shot of the animals, and the rifles began their work. The Hottentots commenced firing from various points, and, alarmed by the report of the guns, the animals now fled away in every direction, and the whole place was one cloud of dust. Our travelers put their horses to their speed, and soon came up with them again, as their numbers impeded the animals in their flight. Every shot told, for it was hardly possible to miss; and the Hottentots who followed on foot, put those who were wounded out of their misery. At last the horses were too fatigued and too much out of wind to continue the pursuit, and they reined up.

“Well, Alexander, this has been sport, has it not?” said the Major.

“Yes, a grand battue, on a grand scale, indeed.”

“There were three animals which you did not observe,” said Swinton; “but it was impossible to get at them, they were so far off; but we must try for them another time.”

“What were they?”

“The elands, the largest of the antelope tribe,” replied Swinton, “and the best eating of them all. Sometimes they are nineteen hands high at the chest, and will weigh nearly 2,000 lbs. It has the head of an antelope, but the body is more like that of an ox. It has magnificent straight horns, but they are not dangerous. They are easily run down, for, generally speaking, they are very fat and incapable of much exertion.”

“We will look out for them to-morrow,” said the Major. “See how the vultures are hovering over us; they know there will be bones for them to pick this night.”

“More than bones,” replied Alexander; “for what can we do with so many carcasses? There is provision for a month, if it would keep. What a prodigious variety of animals there appears to be in this country.”

“Yes, they are congregated here, because the country, from want of rain, may be considered as barren. But within eight or nine degrees of latitude from the Cape, we find the largest and most minute of creation. We have the ostrich and the little creeper among the birds. Among the beasts we have the elephant, weighing 4,000 lbs., and the black specked mouse, weighing a quarter of an ounce. We have the giraffe, seventeen feet high, and the little viverra, a sort of weasel, of three inches. I believe there are thirty varieties of antelopes known and described; eighteen of them are found in this country, and there are the largest and smallest of the species; for we have the eland, and we have the pigmy antelope, which is not above six inches high. We see here also the intermediate links of many genera, such as the eland and the gnoo; and as we find the elephant, the rhinoceros, and Wilmot’s friend, the hippopotamus, we certainly have the bulkiest animals in existence.”

Bremen now came up to say that they had discovered a rhinoceros close to the river-side, concealed in the bushes underneath a clump of acacia. The Major and Alexander having declared their intention of immediately going in pursuit, Swinton advised them to be cautious, as the charge of a rhinoceros was a very awkward affair, if they did not get out of the way. They rode down to the clump of trees and bushes where the animal was said to be hid, and, by the advice of Bremen, sent for the dogs to worry the animal out. Bremen, who was on foot, was desired by the Major to take the horse which Omrah rode, that he might be more expeditious, and our travelers remained with a clear space of two hundred yards between them and the bushes where the animal was concealed. The Hottentots had also followed them, and were ordered on no account to fire till they had taken their positions, and the dogs were sent in to drive the animal out.

When Bremen was but a short distance from them with the dogs, Swinton advised that they should dismount and take possession of a small clump of trees which grew very close together, as they would be concealed from the animal. They called Omrah to take the horses, but he was not to be seen; so they gave them to one of the Hottentots, to lead them to some distance out of harm’s way.

“The vision of the rhinoceros is so limited,” observed Swinton, “that it is not difficult to get out of his way on his first charge; but at his second he is generally prepared for your maneuver. A ball in the shoulder is the most fatal. Look out, Bremen has turned in the dogs.” The barking of the dogs, which commenced as soon as they entered the bushes, did not continue more than a minute, when a female rhinoceros of the black variety burst out of the thicket in pursuit of the retreating dogs. Several shots were fired by the Hottentots, who were concealed in different quarters without effect; the animal rushing along and tearing up the ground with its horns, looking out for its enemies. At last it perceived a Hottentot, who showed himself from a bush near to where our travelers were concealed. The animal charged immediately, and in charging was brought down on its knees by a shot from Alexander. The Hottentots rushed out, regardless of Swinton’s calling out to them to be careful, as the animal was not dead, and had surrounded it within a few yards, when it rose again and fiercely charged Swanevelt, who narrowly escaped. A shot from the Major put an end to its career, and they then walked to where the animal lay, when a cry from Omrah, who was standing near the river, attracted their notice, and they perceived that the male rhinoceros, of whose presence they were not aware, had just burst out of the same covert, and was charging toward them.

Every one immediately took to his heels; many of the Hottentots in their fear dropping their muskets, and fortunately the distance they were from the covert gave them time to conceal themselves in the thickets before the animal had time to come up with them. A shot from Swinton turned the assailant, who now tore up the earth in his rage, looking everywhere round with its sharp flashing eye for a victim. At this moment, while it seemed hesitating and peering about, to the astonishment of the whole party, Omrah showed himself openly on the other side of the rhinoceros, waving his red handkerchief, which he had taken off his head. The rhinoceros, the moment that the boy caught his eye, rushed furiously toward him. “The boy’s lost,” cried Swinton; but hardly had the words gone from his mouth, when to their astonishment, the rhinoceros disappeared, and Omrah stood capering and shouting with delight. The fact was that Omrah, when he had left our travelers, had gone down toward the river, and as he went along had with his light weight passed over what he knew full well to be one of the deep pits dug by the Bushmen to catch those animals. Having fully satisfied himself that it was so, he had remained by the side of it, and when the rhinoceros rushed at him, had kept the pit between himself and the animal. His object was to induce the animal to charge at him, which it did, and when within four yards of the lad, had plunged into the pit dug for him. The success of Omrah’s plan explained the whole matter at once, and our travelers hastened up to where the rhinoceros was impounded, and found that a large stake, fixed upright in the center of the pit, had impaled the animal. A shot from the Major put an end to the fury and agony of the animal.

“I never was more excited in my life; I thought the boy was mad and wanted to lose his life,” said Alexander.

“And so did I,” replied Swinton; “and yet I ought to have known him better. It was admirably done; here we have an instance of the superiority of man endowed with reasoning power over brutes. A rhinoceros will destroy the elephant; the lion can make no impression on him, and flies before him like a cat. He is, in fact, the most powerful of all animals; he fears no enemy, not even man, when he is provoked or wounded; and yet he has fallen by the cleverness of that little monkey of a Bushboy. I think, Major, we have done enough now, and may go back to the caravan.”

“Yes, I am well satisfied with our day’s sport, and am not a little hungry. We may now let the Hottentots bring home as much game as they can. You have taken care to give directions about your specimens, Swinton?”

“Yes, Bremen knows the animals I require, and is now after them. Omrah, run and tell that fellow to bring our horses here.”

“Swinton, can birds and beasts talk, or can they not?” said the Major. “I ask that question because I am now looking at the enormous nests of the grosbeaks. It is a regular town, with some hundreds of houses. These birds, as well as those sagacious animals, the beaver, the ant, and the bee, not to mention a variety of others, must have some way of communicating their ideas.”

“That there is no doubt of,” replied Swinton, laughing; “but still I believe that man only is endowed with speech.”

“Well, we know that; but if not with speech, they must have some means of communication which answers as well”

“As far as their wants require it, no doubt,” replied Swinton, “but to what extent is hidden from us. Animals have instinct and reasoning powers, but not reason.”

“Where is the difference?”

“The reasoning powers are generally limited to their necessities; but with animals who are the companions of man, they appear to be more extended.”

“We have a grand supper to-night,” said Alexander; “what shall I help you to–harte-beest, sassaby, or rhinoceros?”

“Thank you,” replied the Major, laughing; “I’ll trouble you for a small piece of that rhinoceros steak–underdone, if you please.”

“How curious that would sound in Grosvenor Square.”

“Not if you shot the animals in Richmond Park,” said Swinton.

“Those rascally Hottentots will collect no fuel to-night if we do not make them do it now,” said the Major. “If they once begin to stuff it will be all over with them.”

“Very true; we had better set them about it before the feast begins. Call Bremen, Omrah.”

“Having given their directions, our party finished their supper, and then Alexander asked Swinton whether he had ever known any serious accidents resulting from the hunting of the rhinoceros.

“Yes,” replied Swinton; “I once was witness to the death of a native chief.”

“Then pray tell us the story,” said the Major. “By hearing how other people have suffered, we learn how to take care of ourselves.”

“Before I do so, I will mention what was told me by a Namaqua chief about a lion; I am reminded of it by the Major’s observations as to the means animals have of communicating with each other. Once when I was traveling in Namaqua-land, I observed a spot which was imprinted with at least twenty spoors or marks of a lion’s paw; and as I pointed them out a Namaqua chief told me that a lion had been practicing his leap. On demanding an explanation, he said that if a lion sprang at an animal, and missed it by leaping short, he would always go back to where he sprang from, and practice the leap so as to be successful on another occasion; and he then related to me the following anecdote, stating that he was an eye-witness to the incident:

“‘I was passing near the end of a craggy hill from which jutted out a smooth rock of from ten to twelve feet high, when I perceived a number of zebras galloping round it, which they were obliged to do, as the rock beyond was quite steep. A lion was creeping toward the rock to catch the male zebra, which brought up the rear of the herd. The lion sprang and missed his mark; he fell short, with only his head over the edge of the rock, and the zebra galloped away, switching his tail in the air. Although the object of his pursuit was gone, the lion tried the leap on the rock a second and a third time, till he succeeded. During this two more lions came up and joined the first lion. They seemed to be talking, for they roared a great deal to each other; and then the first lion led them round the rock again and again. Then he made another grand leap, to show them what he and they must do another time.’ The chief added, ‘They evidently were talking to each other, but I could not understand a word of what they said, although they talked loud enough; but I thought it was as well to be off, or they might have some talk about me.'”

“Well, they certainly do not whisper,” said the Major, laughing. “Thank you for that story, Swinton, and now for the rhinoceros hunt.”

“I was once out hunting with a Griqua, of the name of Henrick, and two or three other men; we had wounded a springbok, and were following its track, when we came upon the footing of a rhinoceros, and shortly afterward we saw a large black male in the bush.”

“You mention a black rhinoceros. Is there any other?”

“Yes, there is a white rhinoceros, as it is called, larger than the black, but not so dangerous. It is, in fact, a stupid sort of animal. The black rhinoceros, as you are aware, is very fierce. Well, to continue: Henrick slipped down behind a bush, fired, and wounded the animal severely in the foreleg. The rhinoceros charged, we all fled, and the animal, singling out one of our men, closely pursued him; but the man, stopping short, while the horn of the rhinoceros plowed up the ground at his heels, dexterously jumped on one side. The rhinoceros missed him and passed on in full speed, and before the brute could recover himself and change his course, the whole of us had climbed up into trees. The rhinoceros, limping with his wound, went round and round, trying to find us out by the scent, but he tried in vain. At last, one of the men, who had only an assaguay, said, ‘Well, how long are we going to stay here? Why don’t you shoot?’

“‘Well,’ said Henrick, ‘if you are so anxious to shoot, you may if you please. Here is my powder-and-shot belt, and my gun lies under the tree. The man immediately descended from the tree, loaded the gun, and approaching the rhinoceros he fired and wounded it severely in the jaw. The animal was stunned, and dropped on the spot. Thinking that it was dead, we all descended fearlessly and collected round it; and the man who had fired was very proud, and was giving directions to the others, when of a sudden the animal began to recover, and kicked with his hind legs. Henrick told us all to run for our lives, and set us the example. The rhinoceros started up again, and singling out the unfortunate man who had got down and fired at it, roaring and snorting with rage, thundered after him.

“The man, perceiving that he could not outrun the beast, tried the same plan as the other hunter did when the rhinoceros charged him: stopping short, he jumped on one side, that the animal might pass him; but the brute was not to be balked a second time; he caught the man on his horn under the left thigh, and cutting it open as if it had been done with an ax, tossed him a dozen yards up in the air. The poor fellow fell facing the rhinoceros, with his legs spread; the beast rushed at him again, and ripped up his body from his stomach to almost his throat, and again tossed him in the air. Again he fell heavily to the ground. The rhinoceros watched his fall, and running up to him trod upon him and pounded him to a mummy. After this horrible tragedy, the beast limped off into a bush. Henrick then crept up to the bush; the animal dashed out again, and would certainly have killed another man if a dog had not turned it. In turning short round upon the dog, the bone of its fore-leg, which had been half broken through by Henrick’s first shot, snapped in two, and it fell, unable to recover itself, and was then shot dead.”

“A very awkward customer, at all events,” observed the Major. “I presume a leaden bullet would not enter?”

“No, it would flatten against most parts of his body. By the by, I saw an instance of a rhinoceros having been destroyed by that cowardly brute the hyena.”

“Indeed!”

“Yes, patience and perseverance on the hyena’s part effected the work. The rhinoceros takes a long while to turn round, and the hyena attacked him behind, biting him with his powerful jaws above the joint of the hind leg, and continued so to do, till he had severed all the muscles, and the animal, forced from pain to lie down, was devoured as you may say alive from behind; the hyena still tearing at the same quarter, until he arrived at the vital parts. By the track which was marked by the blood of the rhinoceros, the hyena must have followed the animal for many miles, until the rhinoceros was in such pain that it could proceed no further.–But if you are to hunt to-morrow at daybreak, it is time to go to sleep; so good-night.”

At daybreak the next morning, they took a hasty meal, and started again for the plain. Swinton, having to prepare his specimens, did not accompany them. There was a heavy fog on the plain when they arrived at it, and they waited for a short time, skirting the south side of it, with the view of drawing the animals toward the encampment. At last the fog vanished, and discovered the whole country, as before, covered with every variety of wild animals. But as their object was to obtain the eland antelope, they remained stationary for some time, seeking for those animals among the varieties which were scattered in all directions. At last Omrah, whose eyes were far keener than even the Hottentots’, pointed out three at a distance, under a large acacia thorn. They immediately rode at a trot in that direction, and the various herds of quaggas, gnoos, and antelopes scoured away before them; and so numerous were they, and such was the clattering of hoofs, that you might have imagined that it was a heavy charge of cavalry. The objects of their pursuit remained quiet until they were within three hundred yards of them, and then they set off at a speed, notwithstanding their heavy and unwieldy appearance, which for a short time completely distanced the horses. But this speed could not be continued, and the Major and Alexander soon found themselves rapidly coming up. The poor animals exerted themselves in vain; their sleek coats first turned to a blue color, and then white with foam and perspiration, and at last they were beaten to a stand-still, and were brought down by the rifles of our travelers, who then dismounted their horses, and walked up to the quarry.

“What magnificent animals!” exclaimed Alexander.

“They are enormous, certainly,” said the Major.

“Look at the beautiful dying eye of that noble beast. Is it not speaking?”

“Yes, imploring for mercy, as it were, poor creature.”

“Well, these three beasts, that they say are such good eating, weigh more than fifty antelopes.”

“More than fifty springboks, I grant. Well, what shall we do now?”

“Let our horses get their wind again, and then we will see if we can fall in with some new game.”

“I saw two or three antelopes, of a very different sort from the sassabys and harte-beests, toward that rising ground. We will go that way as soon as the Hottentots come up and take charge of our game.”

“Does Swinton want to preserve one of these creatures?”

“I believe not, they are so very bulky. He says we shall find plenty as we go on, and that he will not encumber the wagons with a skin until we leave the Val River, and turn homeward. Now, Bremen and Omrah, come with us.”

The Major and Alexander then turned their horses’ heads, and rode slowly toward the hill which they had noticed, and the antelopes which the Major had observed were now seen among the bushes which crowned the hill. Bremen said that he did not know the animals, and the Major was most anxious to obtain one to surprise Swinton with. As soon as they came within two hundred yards of the bushes on the other side of which the antelopes were seen, the Major gave his horse to Omrah and advanced alone very cautiously, that he might bring one down with his rifle. He gained the bushes without alarming the animals, and the party left behind were anxiously watching his motions, expecting him every moment to fire, when the Major suddenly turned round and came back at a hurried pace.

“What is the matter?” said Alexander.

“Matter enough to stop my growth for all my life,” replied the Major. “If ever my heart was in my mouth, it was just now. I was advancing softly, and step by step, toward the antelopes, and was just raising my rifle to fire, when I heard something flapping the ground three or four yards before me. I looked down, and it was the tail of a lioness, which fortunately was so busy watching the antelopes with her head the other way, that she did not perceive my being near her; whereupon I beat a retreat, as you have witnessed.”

“Well, what shall we do now?”

“Wait a little till I have recovered my nerves,” said the Major, “and then I’ll be revenged upon her. Swinton is not here to preach prudence, and have a lion-hunt I will.”

“With all my heart,” replied Alexander. “Bremen, we are going to attack the lioness.”

“Yes, sir,” said Bremen; “then we had better follow Cape fashion. We will back the horses toward her, and Omrah will hold them while we will attack her. I think one only had better fire, so we keep two guns in reserve.”

“You are right, Bremen,” said Alexander. “Then you and I will reserve our fire, and the Major shall try his rifle upon her.”

With some difficulty the horses were backed toward the bush, until the Major could again distinguish where the lioness lay, at about sixty paces’ distance. The animal appeared still occupied with the game in front of her, watching her opportunity to spring, for her tail and hind-quarters were toward them. The Major fired, and the animal bounded off with a loud roar; while the antelopes flew away like the wind. The roar of the lioness was answered by a deep growl from another part of the bush, and immediately afterward a lion bolted out, and bounded from the bushes across the plain, to a small mimosa grove about a quarter of a mile off.

“What a splendid animal!” said Alexander; “look at his black mane, it almost sweeps the ground.”

“We must have him,” cried the Major, jumping on his horse.

Alexander, Bremen, and Omrah did the same, and they followed the lion, which stood at bay under the mimosas, measuring the strength of the party, and facing them in a most noble and imposing manner. It appeared, however, that he did not like their appearance, or was not satisfied with his own position, for as they advanced he retreated at a slow pace, and took up his position on the summit of a stony hill close by, the front of which was thickly dotted with low thorn-bushes. The thorn-bushes extended about 200 yards from where the lion stood, disdainfully surveying the party as they approached toward him, and appearing, with a conscious pride in his own powers, to dare them to approach him.

They dismounted from their horses as soon as they arrived at the thorn-bushes, and the Major fired. The rifle-ball struck the rock close to the lion, who replied with an angry growl. The Major then took the gun from Omrah and fired, and again the ball struck close to the animal’s feet. The lion now shook his mane, gave another angry roar; and by the glistening of his eyes, and the impatient switching of his tail, it was evident that he would soon become the attacking party.

“Load both your guns again,” said Alexander, “and then let me have a shot, Major.”

As soon as the Major’s guns were loaded, Alexander took aim and fired. The shot broke the lion’s fore-leg, which he raised up with a voice of thunder, and made a spring from the rock toward where our party stood.

“Steady now,” cried the Major to Bremen, at the same time handing his spare rifle to Alexander.

The rush of the angry animal was heard through the bushes advancing nearer and nearer; and they all stood prepared for the encounter. At last out the animal sprang, his mane bristling on end, his tail straight out, and his eyeballs flashing rage and vengeance. He came down upon the hind-quarters of one of the horses, which immediately started off, overthrowing and dragging Omrah to some distance. One of the lion’s legs being broken, had occasioned the animal to roll off on the side of the horse, and he now remained on the ground ready for a second spring, when he received a shot through the back from Bremen, who stood behind him. The lion, with another dreadful roar, attempted to spring upon the Major, who was ready with his rifle to receive him; but the shot from Bremen had passed through his spine and paralyzed his hind-quarters, and he made the attempt in vain, a second and a third time throwing his fore-quarters up in the air, and then falling down again, when a bullet from the Major passed through his brain. The noble beast sunk down, gnawing the ground and tearing it with the claws of the leg which had not been wounded, and then, in a few seconds, breathed his last.

“I am glad that is over, Alexander,” said the Major; “it was almost too exciting to be pleasant.”

“It was very awful for the time, I must acknowledge,” replied Alexander. “What an enormous brute! I think I never saw such a magnificent skin.

“It is yours by the laws of war,” said the Major.

“Nay,” replied Alexander, “it was you that gave him his _coup de grace_”

“Yes, but if you had not broken his leg, he might have given some of us our _coup de grace_. No, no, the skin is yours. Now the horses are off, and we can not send for the Hottentots. They have got rid of Omrah, who is coming back with his shirt torn into tatters.”

“The men will catch the horses and bring them here, depend upon it, sir,” said Bremen, “and then they can take off the skin.”

“Well, if I am to have the lion’s skin, I must have that of the lioness also, Major; so we must finish our day’s hunting with forcing her to join her mate.”

“Very good, with all my heart.”

“Better wait till the men come with the horses, sir,” said Bremen; “three guns are too few to attack a lion–very great danger indeed.”

“Bremen is right, Alexander; we must not run such a risk again. Depend upon it, if the animal’s leg had not been broken, we should not have had so easy a conquest. Let us sit down quietly till the men come up.”

In about half an hour, as Bremen had conjectured, the Hottentots, perceiving the horses loose, and suspecting that something had happened, went in chase of them, and as soon as they had succeeded in catching them, brought them in the direction to which they had seen our travelers ride. They were not a little astonished at so small a party having ventured to attack a lion, and gladly prepared for the attack of the lioness. Three of the dogs having accompanied them, it was decided that they should be put into the bushes where the lioness was lying when the Major fired at her, so as to discover where she now was; and leaving the lion for the present, they all set off for the first jungle.

The dogs could not find the lioness in the bushes, and it was evident that she had retreated to some other place; and Swanevelt, who was an old lion-hunter, gave his opinion that she would be found in the direction near to where the lion was killed. They went therefore in that direction, and found that she was in the clump of mimosas to which the lion had first retreated. The previous arrangement of backing the horses toward where she lay was attempted, but the animals had been too much frightened in the morning by the lion’s attack, to be persuaded. They reared and plunged in such a manner as to be with difficulty prevented from breaking loose; it was therefore necessary to abandon that plan, and trust to themselves and their numbers. The clump of trees was surrounded by the party, and the dogs encouraged to go in, which they did, every now and then rushing back from the paws of the lioness. The Hottentots now fired into the clump at random, and their volleys were answered by the loud roars of the animal, which would not, however, show herself, and half an hour was passed away in this manner.

At last she was perceived at one side of the jungle, by Swanevelt, who fired with effect, for the animal gave a loud roar, and then bounded out, not attempting to rush upon any person, but to make her escape from her assailants. A volley was fired at her, and one shot took effect, for she fell with her head to the ground, and tumbled right over; but immediately after she recovered herself, and made off for the bushes where she had been first discovered.

“She was hit hard that time, at all events,” said the Major.

“Yes, sir,” said Bremen, “that was her deathshot, I should think; but she is not dead yet, and may give us a great deal of trouble.”

They followed her as fast as they could on foot, and the dogs were soon upon her again; the animal continued to roar, and always from the same spot; so that it was evident she was severely wounded. Alexander and the Major reserved their fire, and approached to where the dogs were baying, not twenty yards from the jungle. Another roar was given, and suddenly the body of the lioness rushed through the air, right in the direction where they stood; she passed, however, between them, and when she reached the ground, she fell on her side, quite dead. It was her last expiring effort, and she died in the attempt. Alexander and the Major, who were both ready to fire, lowered their rifles when they perceived that she was dead.

“Well,” said the Major, “I will say that when I first saw her tail, I was more frightened than I was just now, when she made the spring; I was so taken by surprise.”

“I don’t doubt it. She is a very large animal, and will make a handsome companion to the lion. If we live and do well, and get home to England again, I will have her stuffed along with him, and put them in the same case.”

“I trust you will, and that I shall come and see them,” replied the Major.

“I am sure I do, from my heart, my good fellow. I am very much pleased at our having killed both these beasts, without Swinton being with us, as he would have been persuading us to leave them alone.”

“And he would have done very right,” replied the Major. “We are two naughty boys, and shall be well scolded when we go back.”

“Which I vote we do now. I think we have done quite enough for to-day.”

“Yes, indeed,” replied the Major, mounting his horse; “enough to talk of all our lives. Now let us gallop home, and say nothing about having killed the lions until the Hottentots bring them to the caravan.”

CHAPTER XXV.

“Well, what sport have you had?” was Swinton’s first question when he was joined by Alexander and the Major. Replied the latter–“Pretty well; we saw an antelope quite new to us, which we tried very hard to shoot, but were prevented by an unexpected meeting with a lioness.” The Major then gave an account of his perceiving the tail of the lioness, and his rapid retreat.

“I am very glad to hear that you were so prudent, Major; it would have been a very rash thing to attack a lioness with only three guns. So the antelopes escaped?”

“Yes, but we have the elands, which you say are such good eating. Do we stay here any longer, or do we proceed up the river?”

“You must ask Wilmot to decide that point,” said Swinton.

“It is just as you please,” said Alexander; “but they say that the more you go to the northward, the more plentiful is the game.”

“Yes, and we shall fall in with the giraffe,” said the Major, “which is now the great object of my ambition. I have killed the rhinoceros and elephant, and now I must have the giraffe; they can kill the two first animals in India, but the other is only to be had in this country.”

“And when you meet again your Indian friends, you wish to say that you have killed what they have not?”

“Certainly; what is the good of traveling so far, if one has not something to boast of when one returns? If I say I have hunted and killed the rhinoceros and elephant, they may reply to me, ‘So have we;’ but if I add the giraffe, that will silence them; don’t you observe, Swinton, I then remain master of the field? But here come the Hottentots with our game; come, Swinton, leave your preparations for a little while, and see what our morning’s sport has been.”

Swinton put aside the skin of the sassaby that he was cleaning, and walked with them to where the men were assembled, and was not a little surprised when he saw the skins and jaws of the lion and lioness. He was still more so when the Major recounted how they had been shot.

“You certainly have run a great risk,” said he, “and I am glad that you have been so successful. You are right in saying that I should have persuaded you not to attempt it; you are like two little boys who have taken advantage of the absence of their tutor to run into mischief. However, I am glad that it has been done, as I now hope your desire to kill a lion will not again lead you into unnecessary danger.”

“No, indeed,” replied Alexander; “having once accomplished the feat, and being fully aware of the great risk that is run, we shall be more prudent in future.”

“That is all I ask of you,” said Swinton, “for I should be unhappy if we did not all three return safe to the Cape. I never saw a finer lion’s skin: I will arrange it for you, that it shall arrive at the Cape in good order.”

As usual, the afternoon was by the Hottentots devoted to eating as much as they could possibly contrive to get down their throats; the flesh of the eland was pronounced excellent by our travelers, and there was much more than they could possibly consume. The Hottentots were only allowed to bring a certain quantity into the camp, that they might not attract the wild beasts. They would have brought it all in, although they never could have eaten it. The cattle were driven up in the evening, the fires lighted, and the night passed quietly away.

At daylight they turned the cattle out to graze for a couple of hours, and then yoked and proceeded on their journey, keeping as near as they could to the banks of the river. They saw many hippopotami, snorting and rising for a moment above the water, but they passed by them without attempting to shoot at them, as they did not wish to disturb the other game. As they advanced, the variety of flowers which were in bloom attracted the notice of Alexander, who observed–“Does not this plain put you in mind of a Turkey carpet, Major; so gay with every variety of color?”

“Yes, and as scentless,” replied the Major; “they are all very brilliant in appearance; but one modest English violet is, to my fancy, worth them all.”

“I agree with you,” replied Swinton; “but still you must acknowledge that this country is beautiful beyond description,–these grassy meads so spangled with numerous flowers, and so broken by the masses of grove and forest! Look at these aloes blooming in profusion, with their coral tufts–in England what would they pay for such an exhibition?–and the crimson and lilac hues of these poppies and amaryllis blended together: neither are you just in saying that there is no scent in this gay parterre. The creepers which twine up those stately trees are very sweetly scented; and how picturesque are the twinings of those vines upon the mimosas. I can not well imagine the garden of Eden to have been more beautiful.”

“And in another respect there is a resemblance,” said the Major, laughing; “the serpent is in it”

“Yes, I grant that,” replied Swinton.

“Well, I can feel no real pleasure without security; if I am to be ever on the alert, and turning my eyes in every direction, that I may not tread upon a puff adder, or avoid the dart of the cobra capella, I can feel little pleasure in looking at the rich hues of those flowers which conceal them. As I said before, give me the violet and the rose of England, which I can pick and smell in security.”

“I agree with you, Major,” said Alexander; “but,” continued he, laughing, “we must make allowance for Swinton, as a naturalist. A puff adder has a charm for him, because it adds one more to the numerous specimens to be obtained; and he looks upon these flowers as a botanist, rejoicing as he adds to his herbal, or gathers seeds and bulbs to load his wagon with. You might as well find fault with a husbandman for rejoicing in a rich harvest.”

“Or with himself, for being so delighted at the number and the variety of the animals which fall to his rifle,” replied Swinton, smiling. “There I have you, Major.”

“I grant it,” replied the Major; “but what is that in the river–the back of a hippopotamus?”

“No, it is the back of an elephant, I should rather think; but the reeds are so high, that it is difficult to ascertain. There may be a herd bathing in the river, nothing more likely.”

“Let us stop the caravan; the creaking of these wheels would drive away any thing,” replied the Major; “we will then ride forward and see what it is. It is not more than half a mile from us.”

“Be it so,” replied Swinton. “Omrah, get the rifles, and tell Bremen to come here. Now, Major, is it to be a regular hunt, or only a passing shot at them; for I now perceive through my glass that they are elephants?”

“Well, I think a passing shot will be best; for if we are to hunt, we must send a party on the opposite side of the river, and that will be a tedious affair.”

“I think myself it will be better to proceed,” said Swinton; “so now then, to scatter the enemy.”

They soon arrived at that part of the river where they had at a distance discovered the elephants bathing; but as they approached, the high reeds prevented them from seeing the animals, although they could hear them plainly. At last, as they proceeded a little further up the river, they discovered a female with its young one by its side; the mother playing with its offspring, pouring water over it with its trunk, and now and then pressing it into the water, so as to compel it to swim. They watched the motions of the animals for some time, and the Major first broke silence by saying, “I really have not the heart to fire at the poor creature; its maternal kindness, and the playing of the little one, are too interesting. It would be cruel, now that we do not want meat, for an eland is to be killed every ten minutes.”

“I am glad to hear you say so,” replied Swinton. “Let us fire over them, and set them all in motion.”

“Agreed,” said the Major; “this is to start them,” and he fired off his rifle in the air.

The noise that ensued was quite appalling; the shrieks and cries of the elephants, and the treading down and rushing through the reeds, the splashing and floundering in the mud, for a few seconds, was followed by the bounding out of the whole herd on the opposite bank of the river, tossing their trunks, raising up their ears, roaring wildly, and starting through the bushes into the forest from which they had descended. Two large males only were to be perceived among the whole herd, the rest were all females and their young ones, who scrambled away after the males, crowding together, but still occasionally looking behind after their young ones, till they had all disappeared in the forest, the cracking and crushing of the bushes in which were heard for many minutes afterward.

“That was a splendid scene,” said Alexander.

“Yes, it was a living panorama, which one must come to Africa to behold.”

“I do not think that I shall ever become a true elephant-hunter,” said the Major. “I feel a sort of repugnance to destroy so sagacious an animal, and a degree of remorse when one lies dead. At the same time, if once accustomed to the fearful crashing and noise attending their movements, I do not consider them very dangerous animals to pursue.”

“Not if people are cool and collected. We have had several famous elephant-hunters among the Dutch farmers. I remember that one of them, after a return from a successful chase, made a bet that he would go up to a wild elephant and pluck eight hairs out of his tail. He did so and won his bet, for the elephant can not see behind him, and is not very quick in turning round. However, a short time afterward he made the same attempt, and being foolhardy from success, the animal was too quick for him, and he was crushed to death.”

Bremen now came up to them, to say that there was a party of people to the eastward, and he thought that there was a wagon. On examination with their telescopes, they found that such was the case; and our travelers turned their horses’ heads in the direction, to ascertain who they might be, leaving the caravan to proceed by the banks of the river. In about an hour, they came close to them, and Swinton immediately recognized them as Griquas, or mixed European and Hottentot races. Of course, they met in the most friendly manner, and the Griquas said that they had come to hunt the elephant, eland, and other animals; the former for their ivory, and the latter for their flesh. Their wagon, which was a very old one, was loaded with flesh, cut in long strips, and hanging to dry; and they had a great many hundred-weight of ivory, which they had already collected. As soon as our travelers had explained to them their own motions, the Griquas said that they would bring their wagon down in the evening and encamp with them. Our travelers then returned to the caravan.

As they promised, the Griquas joined them late in the afternoon. They were a party of sixteen; all stout fellows, and armed with the long guns used by the Dutch boors. They said that they had been two months from Griqua-town, and were thinking of returning very soon, as their wagon was loaded to the extent that it would bear. The Major stating that it was their intention to hunt the giraffe, the Griquas informed them that they would not find the animal to the southward of the Val River, and they would have to cross over into the territories of the king Moselekatsee, who ruled over the Bechuana country, to the northward of the river; and that it would be very dangerous to attempt so to do without his permission; indeed, that there would be danger in doing so, even with it.

“Do you know any thing of this person, Swinton?”

“Yes, I have heard of him, but I did not know that he had extended his conquests so low down as to the Val River.”

“Who is he?”

“You have heard of Chaka, the king of the Zoolus, who conquered the whole country, as far as Port Natal to the eastward?”

“Yes,” replied Alexander; “we have heard of him.”

“Well, Moselekatsee was a chief of two or three tribes, who, when hard pressed by his enemies, took refuge with Chaka, and became one of his principal warrior chiefs. After a time he quarreled with Chaka, about the distribution of some cattle they had taken, and aware that he had no mercy to expect from the tyrant, he revolted from him with a large force, and withdrew to the Bechuana country. There he conquered all the tribes, enrolled them in his own army, and gradually became as formidable as Chaka himself. In the arrangements of his army, he followed the same plans as Chaka, and has now become a most powerful monarch, and, they do say, is almost as great a tyrant and despot as Chaka himself was. I believe that the Griquas are right in saying there would be danger in passing through his dominions without his permission.”

“But,” said Alexander, “I suppose if we send a message to him and presents, there will be no difficulty?”

“Perhaps not, except that our caravan may excite his cupidity, and he may be induced to delay us to obtain possession of its contents. However, we had better put this question to the Griquas, who probably can answer it better.”

The Griquas, on being questioned, replied, that the best plan would be to send a message to the Matabili capital, where Moselekatsee resided, requesting permission to hunt in the country, and begging the monarch to send some of his principal men to receive the presents which they had to offer;–that it would not take long to receive an answer, as it would only be necessary to deliver the message to the first officer belonging to Moselekatsee, at the advanced post. That officer would immediately dispatch a native with the message, who would arrive much sooner than any one they could send themselves. Bremen and three other Hottentots offered to take the message, if our travelers wished it. This was agreed to, and that afternoon they mounted their horses, and crossed the river. By the advice of the Griquas, the camp was shifted about a mile further up the river, on account of the lions.

The weather now threatened a change; masses of clouds accumulated, but were again dispersed. The next day the weather was again threatening; thunder pealed in the distant mountains, and the forked lightning flew in every direction; but the rain, if any, was expended on the neighboring hills.

A strong wind soon blew up so as to try the strength of the canvas awning of their wagons, and they found it difficult to keep their fires in at night. They had encamped upon a wide plain covered with high grass, and abounding with elands and other varieties of antelopes: here they remained for five days, waiting the reply of the king of the Matabili, and went out every day to procure game. On the Sabbath-day, after they had, as usual, performed Divine service, they observed a heavy smoke to windward, which, as the wind was fresh, soon bore down upon them and inconvenienced them much.

Swanevelt stated that the high grass had been fired by some means or another, and as it threatened to come down upon the encampment, the Hottentots and Griquas were very busy beating down the grass round about them. When they had so done, they went to windward some hundred yards and set fire to the grass in several places; the grass burned quickly, till it arrived at where it had been beaten down, and the fire was extinguished. That this was a necessary precaution was fully proved, for as the night closed in, the whole country for miles was on fire, and the wind bore the flames down rapidly toward them.

The sky was covered with clouds, and the darkness of the night made the flames appear still more vivid; the wind drove them along with a loud crackling noise, sweeping over the undulating ground, now rising and now disappearing in the hollows, the whole landscape lighted up for miles.

As our travelers watched the progress of the flames, and every now and then observed a terrified antelope spring from its lair, and appearing like a black figure in a phantasmagoria, suddenly the storm burst upon them and the rain poured down in torrents, accompanied with large hailstones and thunder and lightning. The wind was instantly lulled, and after the first burst of the storm a deathlike silence succeeded to the crackling of the flames. A deluge of rain descended, and in an instant every spark of the conflagration was extinguished, and the pitchy darkness of the night was unbroken by even a solitary star.

The next morning was bright and clear, and after breakfast, they perceived the Hottentots who had been sent on their message to Moselekatsee, on the opposite bank of the river, accompanied by three of the natives; they soon crossed the river and came to the encampment. The natives, who were Matabili, were tall, powerful men, well proportioned, and with regular features; their hair was shorn, and surmounted with an oval ring attached to the scalp, and the lobe of their left ears was perforated with such a large hole, that it contained a small gourd, which was used as a snuff-box. Their dress was a girdle of strips of catskins, and they each carried two javelins and a knobbed stick for throwing.

They were heartily welcomed by our travelers, who placed before them a large quantity of eland-steaks, and filled their boxes with snuff. As soon as they had finished eating, and drawn up a large quantity of snuff into their nostrils, they explained through the Griquas, who could speak their language, that they had come from the greatest of all monarchs in the world, Moselekatsee, who wished to know who the strangers were, what they wanted of him, and what presents they had brought.

Swinton, who was spokesman, returned for answer that they were hunters, and not traders; that they had come to see the wonders of the country belonging to so great a monarch, and that hearing that his majesty had animals in his country which were not to be found elsewhere, they wanted permission to kill some, to show upon their return to their own people what a wonderful country it was that belonged to so great a monarch;–that they had brought beads and copper wire, and knives, and boxes for making fire, and snuff and tobacco, all of which they wished to present to the great monarch; a part as soon as they had received his permission to enter his territory, and another part when they were about to leave it. A handsome present of the above articles was then produced, and the messengers of the king, having surveyed the articles with some astonishment, declared that their king would feel very glad when he saw all these things, and that he had desired them to tell our travelers that they might come into his dominions with safety, and kill all the animals that they pleased. That his majesty had commanded one of them to remain with the party, and that as soon as he had received his presents, he would send a chief to be answerable for their safety. The Matabili then packed up the articles presented, and two of them set off at full speed on their return to the king. The third, who remained, assured our travelers that they might cross the river and enter the Matabili country as soon as they pleased.

A debate now ensued as to whether they should go with their whole force or not. The Matabili had informed them that in three days’ journey they would fall in with the giraffe, which they were in search of, and as there would be some risk in crossing the river, and they had every reason to expect that it would soon rise, the question was whether it would be prudent to take over even one of the wagons. The opinion of the Griquas was asked, and it was ultimately arranged that they should take over Alexander’s wagon only, with fifteen pair of oxen, and that some of the Griquas should accompany them, with Swanevelt, Omrah, and Mahomed;–that Bremen and the Hottentots should remain where they were, with the other three wagons and the rest of the Griquas, until our travelers should return.

This arrangement was not at all disagreeable to the Hottentots, who did not much like the idea of entering the Matabili country, and were very happy in their present quarters, as they were plentifully provided with good meat. Alexander’s wagon was therefore arranged so as to carry the bedding and articles they might require, all other things being removed to the other wagons. Their best oxen were selected, and eight of the fleetest of their horses, and on the following morning, having ascertained from the Matabili the best place to cross the river, our travelers set off, and in an hour were on the other side.

There was no change in the country during the first day’s journey; the same variety and brilliancy of flowers were every where to be seen. The eland and the other antelopes were plentiful, and they were soon joined by parties of the natives, who requested them to shoot the animals for them, which they did in quantities even sufficient to satisfy them. Indeed if they found them troublesome, our travelers had only to bring down an eland, and the natives were immediately left behind, that they might devour the animal, which was done in an incredibly short space of time. The Matabili who had conducted them proved to be a chief, and if he gave any order, it was instantly obeyed; so that our travelers had no trouble with the natives except their begging and praying for snuff, which was incessant, both from the men and women. Neither did they fear any treachery from the Matabili king, as they were well armed, and the Griquas were brave men, and the superiority of their weapons made them a match for a large force. Every precaution, however, was taken when they halted at night, which they invariably did in the center of an open plain, to prevent any surprise; and large fires were lighted round the wagon.

They traveled on in this way for two days more, when in the evening they arrived at a large plain sprinkled with mimosa-trees, and abutting on the foot of a low range of hills. The Matabili told them that they would find the giraffes on these plains, and the Major, who was very anxious, kept his telescope to his eyes, looking round in every direction till nightfall, but did not succeed in descrying any of the objects of his search. They retired that night with anxious expectation for the following morning, when they anticipated that they should fall in with these remarkable animals. Their guns were examined and every precaution taken, and having lighted their fires and set the watch, they went to bed; and, after commending themselves to the care of Providence, were soon fast asleep.

CHAPTER XXVI.

With the exception of three lions coming very near to the encampment and rousing up the Griquas, nothing occurred during the night. In the morning they yoked the oxen and had all the horses saddled ready for the chase; but they were disappointed for nearly the whole day; as, although they saw a variety of game, no giraffe appeared in sight. In the afternoon, as they passed by a clump of mimosas, they were charged by a rhinoceros, which nearly threw down Alexander’s best horse; but a volley from the Griquas laid him prostrate. It was a very large animal, but not of the black or ferocious sort, being what is termed the white rhinoceros. Within the last two days they had also observed that the gnoo was not of the same sort as the one which they had seen so long, but a variety which Swinton told them was called the brindled gnoo; it was, however, in every other respect the same animal, as to its motions and peculiarities. Toward the evening the Matabili warrior who accompanied them pointed to a mimosa at a distance, and made signs to the Major that there was a giraffe.

“I can not see him–do you, Alexander?” said the Major; “he points to that mimosa with the dead stump on the other side of it, there. Yes, it is one, I see the stump, as I called it, move; it must be the neck of the animal. Let loose the dogs, Swanevelt,” cried the Major, starting off at full speed, and followed by Alexander, and Omrah, with the spare horse. In a minute or two the giraffe was seen to get clear of the mimosa, and then set off in an awkward, shambling kind of gallop; but awkward as the gallop appeared, the animal soon left the Major behind. It sailed along with incredible velocity, its long, swan-like neck keeping time with its legs, and its black tail curled above its back.

“Push on, Alexander,” cried the Major; “if ever there were seven-league boots, that animal has a pair of them on. He goes like the wind; but he can not keep it up long, depend upon it, and our horses are in capital condition.”