Our
Path Kept These Mountains On Our Right, And Crossed Several
Streamlets, Which Seemed To Be Perennial, And Among Others The
Selole, Which Apparently Flows Past The Prominent Peak Chiarapela.
These Rivulets Have Often Human Dwellings On Their Banks; But The
Land Can Scarcely Be Said To Be Occupied.
The number of all sorts of
game increases wonderfully every day.
As a specimen of what may be
met with where there are no human habitations, and where no firearms
have been introduced, we may mention what at times has actually been
seen by us. On the morning of July 3rd a herd of elephants passed
within fifty yards of our sleeping-place, going down to the river
along the dry bed of a rivulet. Starting a few minutes before the
main body, we come upon large flocks of guinea-fowl, shoot what may
be wanted for dinner, or next morning's breakfast, and leave them in
the path to be picked up by the cook and his mates behind. As we
proceed, francolins of three varieties run across the path, and
hundreds of turtle-doves rise, with great blatter of wing, and fly
off to the trees. Guinea-fowls, francolins, turtle-doves, ducks, and
geese are the game birds of this region. At sunrise a herd of
pallahs, standing like a flock of sheep, allow the first man of our
long Indian file to approach within about fifty yards; but having
meat, we let them trot off leisurely and unmolested. Soon afterwards
we come upon a herd of waterbucks, which here are very much darker in
colour, and drier in flesh, than the same species near the sea. They
look at us and we at them; and we pass on to see a herd of doe
koodoos, with a magnificently horned buck or two, hurrying off to the
dry hill-sides. We have ceased shooting antelopes, as our men have
been so often gorged with meat that they have become fat and dainty.
They say that they do not want more venison, it is so dry and
tasteless, and ask why we do not give them shot to shoot the more
savoury guinea-fowl.
About eight o'clock the tsetse commence to buzz about us, and bite
our hands and necks sharply. Just as we are thinking of breakfast,
we meet some buffaloes grazing by the path; but they make off in a
heavy gallop at the sight of man. We fire, and the foremost, badly
wounded, separates from the herd, and is seen to stop amongst the
trees; but, as it is a matter of great danger to follow a wounded
buffalo, we hold on our way. It is this losing of wounded animals
which makes firearms so annihilating to these beasts of the field,
and will in time sweep them all away. The small Enfield bullet is
worse than the old round one for this. It often goes through an
animal without killing him, and he afterwards perishes, when he is of
no value to man. After breakfast we draw near a pond of water; a
couple of elephants stand on its bank, and, at a respectful distance
behind these monarchs of the wilderness, is seen a herd of zebras,
and another of waterbucks. On getting our wind the royal beasts make
off at once; but the zebras remain till the foremost man is within
eighty yards of them, when old and young canter gracefully away. The
zebra has a great deal of curiosity; and this is often fatal to him,
for he has the habit of stopping to look at the hunter. In this
particular he is the exact opposite of the diver antelope, which
rushes off like the wind, and never for a moment stops to look
behind, after having once seen or smelt danger. The finest zebra of
the herd is sometimes shot, our men having taken a sudden fancy to
the flesh, which all declare to be the "king of good meat." On the
plains of short grass between us and the river many antelopes of
different species are calmly grazing, or reposing. Wild pigs are
common, and walk abroad during the day; but are so shy as seldom to
allow a close approach. On taking alarm they erect their slender
tails in the air, and trot off swiftly in a straight line, keeping
their bodies as steady as a locomotive on a railroad. A mile beyond
the pool three cow buffaloes with their calves come from the woods,
and move out into the plain. A troop of monkeys, on the edge of the
forest, scamper back to its depths on hearing the loud song of
Singeleka, and old surly fellows, catching sight of the human party,
insult it with a loud and angry bark. Early in the afternoon we may
see buffaloes again, or other animals. We camp on the dry higher
ground, after, as has happened, driving off a solitary elephant. The
nights are warmer now, and possess nearly as much of interest and
novelty as the days. A new world awakes and comes forth, more
numerous, if we may judge by the noise it makes, than that which is
abroad by sunlight. Lions and hyenas roar around us, and sometimes
come disagreeably near, though they have never ventured into our
midst. Strange birds sing their agreeable songs, while others scream
and call harshly as if in fear or anger. Marvellous insect-sounds
fall upon the ear; one, said by natives to proceed from a large
beetle, resembles a succession of measured musical blows upon an
anvil, while many others are perfectly indescribable. A little lemur
was once seen to leap about from branch to branch with the agility of
a frog; it chirruped like a bird, and is not larger than a robin red-
breast. Reptiles, though numerous, seldom troubled us; only two men
suffered from stings, and that very slightly, during the entire
journey, the one supposed that he was bitten by a snake, and the
other was stung by a scorpion.
Enter page number
PreviousNext
Page 49 of 134
Words from 49062 to 50071
of 136856
