Adams Henry Cadwallader
Hair-Breadth Escapes: The Adventures of Three Boys in South Africa

Chapter Nine
Measuring the Enemy – Poisoned Arrows – Substitutes for Water – Ostriches – A Sad Casualty – A New Mode of Deerstalking – Omatoko Triumphant

Warley was still resting, half sitting, half kneeling, on a large stone by the side of the pool, when the sound of voices was heard, and Lavie came up, accompanied by the two boys. They were all evidently in high spirits. The doctor carried over his shoulder the carcass of a goat, which was large and heavy enough to give him plenty of trouble; and Wilmore and Nick each led a young kid by an extempore halter of rushes. The pockets of all three were distended by a goodly heap of wild medlars, which, in accordance with Omatoko’s suggestion, they had gathered, and which they had found extremely refreshing.

“Hallo, Omatoko!” shouted Gilbert as they approached the pool. “Just come here and take charge of this chap, will you? You are more used to this kind of thing than I am. He has done nothing but attempt to bolt the whole way home. I suppose we must eat up the old lady first, otherwise I should suggest that this fellow should be roasted for supper, if only to make sure that he won’t run away again.”

The Hottentot came out from the hut as he spoke. “One, two, three goat,” he said, “dat good, plenty food, all time we stay here.”

“Ay, ay,” said Nick, “they say it is an ill wind that blows no one good; and the hurricane we had an hour or two ago, is, I suppose, a case in point. Any way, it was obliging enough to blow down a big tree, which fell upon the goat there, and finished her outright. She’s a trifle old and tough, I expect; but she’ll make first-rate mulligatawney soup nevertheless; and there will be her two kids, as tender as spring lamb, into the bargain. It makes one’s mouth water to think of them. And, then, there’s those medlars – but, hallo! I say, Ernest, what is the matter? Why, you look as pale and weak as if you were just recovering from a typhus fever. What’s befallen you?”

“I have had a very narrow escape from a most terrible death, Nick,” returned Warley, gravely, “and my nerves haven’t got over it.”

“Hallo! what?” again exclaimed Gilbert. “Escape from death, do you say? Why, what has happened?”

“Just go in there – into that hut to the right, and you’ll see,” was the answer.

Lavie and Wilmore had by this time learned the main outline of what had occurred, from the Hottentot, and they all went into the cottage to examine the remains of the great snake.

“A proper brute, that,” observed Gilbert, as they stood by the side of the reptile, which had by this time ceased to wriggle. “That is the biggest snake I ever came across. There’s his head gone, and a bit of his tail; but I don’t think what remains can be less than twenty feet. Lion, old fellow,” he continued, caressing the dog while Frank patted his head, “you did that well, and shall have a first-chop supper.”

“We can ascertain its length exactly,” said Lavie; “I have got a yard measure here; and here too is the remainder of the tail. Stretch the body straight out, Frank, and I’ll soon tell you the measurement.”

The serpent was accordingly measured, and was found to be some inches more than nineteen feet long.

“What kind of snake is it?” asked Frank, when this point had been determined.

“A python, or boa-constrictor, no doubt,” answered the surgeon; “they give them other names in these parts, but that is the creature. No other description of serpents that I ever heard of attempts to crush up its prey by muscular pressure.”

“But serpents which do that are seldom or never venomous, are they?” inquired Wilmore.

“I believe not,” answered Lavie, “but that point has been disputed. Omatoko calls the reptile an ‘ondara,’ and insists upon it that its bite is not only poisonous, but causes certain death. It may be so. It is evident that it would have bitten Ernest if it could; and serpents that are devoid of venom do not often bite. Well, I suppose now that we have done measuring the snake, we may throw him away. The Hottentots, I believe, eat their flesh. But I conclude none of us have any great inclination to make our dinner off him.”

“No, thank you, sir,” said Frank, “not for me.”

“Nor for me either, doctor,” cried Nick. “I think I’d rather go without food for a week. Here, Ernest, old fellow – you had better go and lie down a bit. You look as if you were having it out with the python still.”

Warley was too unwell to rejoin the party all that day and the next. The shock he had undergone was a very severe one; and would in all likelihood have prostrated any one of his companions for a far longer period. He lay under the shade of the trees on the soft grass the whole day, neither speaking himself nor heeding the remarks of others. Always inclined to be serious and thoughtful, this incident had had the effect of turning his mind to subjects for which his light-hearted companions had little relish, and which Lavie himself could hardly follow. Even when he resumed the old round of occupations, as he did in the course of the third day, Frank and Nick noticed a change in him, which they could not understand.

Meanwhile Omatoko’s bow and arrows proceeded rapidly, and were completed on the morning of the third day. Their construction was a great puzzle to the English lads. The bow was a little less than three feet long, and perhaps three-quarters of an inch thick – neatly enough shaped, and rounded off, but looking little better than a child’s toy. Omatoko had strung it with some sinew from the carcass of the goat. He had looped this over the upper end of the bow, and rolled it round the other in such a fashion that by merely twisting the string like a tourniquet, it might be strung to any degree of tension. The arrows too were wholly different from any they had ever seen. The strong reeds brought from the edge of the water had been cut off in lengths of about two feet. At one end the notch was inserted; to the other a movable head, made of bone, was attached, which stuck fast enough to the shaft during its flight through the air, but which became detached from it as soon as it was fixed in the body of any animal. These bone-heads, Omatoko told them, were always dipped in some poison, which caused even a slight puncture made by them to be fatal. The entrails of the kaa, or poison grub, were considered the most efficient for this purpose; but this was not to be met with at all times or in all places, and the juice of the euphorbia or the venom of serpents was sometimes substituted. In the present instance he meant to steep the bone-heads in the poison of the ondara, which he had carefully preserved. Omatoko assured them that when they set out for his village (as they probably would on the following day), they would soon have an opportunity of testing the efficiency of his weapons, and laughingly challenged them to a trial of skill between his bow and arrows and their guns.

On the following morning accordingly they resumed their route. Each of them carried some of the flesh of the kids, a dozen medlars, and a melon. It was found that the strength of the Hottentot was now so far restored that he could keep up with the usual pace at which the others walked, and only required a rest of half an hour or so, every two or three miles. They accomplished about a dozen miles that day; and at nightfall had reached a wide stony plain, covered here and there with patches of grass, but entirely destitute of shrub or tree. Omatoko pointed out a place where a deep projecting slab of rock, resting on two enormous stones, and bearing a rude resemblance to a giant’s chimney-piece, afforded as convenient a shelter for the night as might be desired. It would effectually protect the party from rain and wind, nor was there the least fear of wild animals, as none were ever known to come within two or three miles of the spot, there being neither pasturage nor water.

“No water,” repeated Frank, “that’s rather a doubtful advantage, isn’t it? What are we to drink, I wonder?”

The Hottentot only grinned in reply; and disengaging the knife which always hung at Nick’s girdle, began grubbing in the ground among the stones. In a few minutes he dug up several round, or rather spherical roots, two or three feet in circumference. These he cut open with the knife, displaying the inside, which had a white appearance, and was soft and pulpy. The boys had no sooner applied this to their lips than they broke out into exclamations of delight. “That’s your sort,” exclaimed Nick; “it’s like a delicious melon, only it’s twice as refreshing.”

“Omatoko, you’re a trump,” cried Frank. “You’d make a fortune, if you could only sell these in Covent Garden market. Nobody that could get them would ever drink water again.”

“What are they called, Charles,” asked Warley. “Are they to be met with elsewhere in South Africa, or only here?”

“The root is called the ‘markwhae,’ I believe,” answered the doctor, “and it is to be found in almost every neighbourhood where there is a want of water. It is another of those wonderful provisions of Divine Wisdom for the wants of its creatures, with which this land abounds. In some parts, such of the wild animals as are herbivorous, are continually digging up and devouring these roots. Vangelt told me that he once came upon a tribe of Hottentots which subsisted entirely without water, the succulent plants supplying even the cattle with sufficient liquid.”

“Well, that is very wonderful,” said Frank. “I declare I feel more refreshed by that one root, than if I had drunk a pailful of water. Are there any more of these roots on the way to your village, Omatoko?”

“Omatoko’s village, one, two days away. No roots, plenty water,” returned the Hottentot. “Well, that will do as well, I suppose. But this is a thing worth knowing, if one should find one’s self in a place where there is no water.”

The next day at sunrise they resumed their way, and made their mid-day halt on the skirts of a dense growth of mingled aloes and underwood, which was scarcely anywhere more than five feet in height. Here they sat down by the side of a spring, which gushed forth from a limestone rock into a small natural basin, whence it spread itself in all directions, sustaining a rich emerald carpet for a few feet round, but soon disappearing in the sand.

“Plenty of visitors here at night,” remarked Warley, gazing curiously round him on the numerous footmarks of all shapes and sizes, with which the borders of the spring were indented. “It must be a curious sight to witness such an omnium gatherum. Only I suppose the more timid animals make sure that the lions and leopards are well out of the way, before they venture here themselves.”

“Of what creature is that the spoor?” asked Frank, pointing to a broad, deep mark, much larger than the rest. “That is the track of some beast which I do not recognise.”

“It is not the track of a beast,” said the surgeon. “Unless I am mistaken, that is the spoor of the ostrich – is it not, Omatoko?”

“Ya, ostrich – plenty ’bout here. See yonder.” He pointed as he spoke to a distant part of the bush, where the heads of a troop of ostriches might be seen as they stalked easily along, browsing as they went.

“Eh, ostriches! You don’t mean it,” exclaimed Frank, starting up in great excitement. “I never saw an ostrich. I want to see one beyond anything! Couldn’t we shoot one, Charles? Are they quite out of shot?”

“Much too far to make it worth while trying,” said Lavie. “But we might bring one or two down by a stratagem, perhaps. If you four spread yourselves in all directions to the right yonder, and drive them this way, I could hide behind the rock there and bring one down as they went past. Couldn’t that be managed, Omatoko?”

“One, two, three, four drive ostrich this way. Omatoko kill one, two – with bow and arrow. Omatoko no miss.”

“What, do you think your bow and arrow better than Charles’s rifle?” exclaimed Nick; “well, that is coming it strong, anyhow.”

“I tell you what,” said Warley, “this will be a famous opportunity for you to have the match out for which you were so anxious the other day. You and Charles shall both hide behind the rock there, and Frank, Nick, and myself will fetch a compass and drive the ostriches past you. Then we shall see which will take the longest and truest shot. What do you say, Charles?”

“I have no objection, I am sure,” said Lavie, laughing; “only I hope the trial won’t go against me. It would be most ignominious to be beaten by a bow and arrows. I should never hear the last of it, I expect!”

“Don’t be afraid, Charles, there’s no fear of that,” returned Warley, reciprocating the laugh. “Well, now let us be off. If you’ll take the right side, Nick, and you, Frank, the left, I’ll take the middle, and we’ll come upon them all together. Lion had better stay here.”

The three lads set out accordingly, creeping noiselessly through the cover of the scrub, at a distance too far for even the quick-eared ostriches to perceive them, until they had all attained their appointed places. Then they advanced on the birds, shouting and hallooing, and waving sticks over their heads.

The ostriches instantly took to flight after their fashion, skimming along with expanded wings, and covering twelve or fourteen feet at every stride. They passed the rock behind which the two marksmen were concealed, at a speed which would have far outstripped the swiftest racehorse at Newmarket. But as they darted by, there came the crack of the doctor’s rifle, and at the same moment Omatoko’s arrow leaped from his bow. Both missiles hit their mark, but with a different result. Charles’s bullet struck the bird he aimed at just under the wing; the shot was mortal, and the ostrich staggering forward a few paces fell dead to the ground Omatoko’s arrow pierced his quarry through the neck, and the barbed point remained in the wound, rendering death equally certain, but not so speedy. Perceiving that the ostrich did not fall, Lion sprang after it, heedless of the doctor’s order to him to return, and a sharp chase began. The ostrich would speedily have distanced its pursuer, if it had not been for the pain and exhaustion of the wound it had received, and the effect of the poison, which had now begun to work. The dog soon began to gain ground, and presently came up with the fugitive; which turned to bay at last in the agony of its rage and fear. Lion had never been trained for the chase of the ostrich, which can only be approached with safety from behind. As he came bounding up, the bird kicked at him, throwing its leg forward as a man does, and with such tremendous force that the mastiff fell to the ground on the instant, bleeding and stunned, if not dead. Then the wounded bird staggered away into the scrub, its strength and courage giving way more and more every moment.

The boys had no time to congratulate their friend on his victory, or even to examine the fallen ostrich. Their thoughts were wholly occupied with the disaster which had befallen Lion.

“Lion, Lion, dear old boy, how could you be so foolish?” exclaimed Frank, as he picked up the bleeding and insensible body of his favourite. “I am afraid he’s killed. That kick would have finished a horse, let alone a dog. What fearful strength those creatures must have! Oh, Lion, Lion, my poor old fellow! I’d rather have broken my leg any day than lost you.”

“Let me take a look at him,” said Lavie, who had now come up. “All depends on where the ostrich’s foot struck him. No, I don’t think he’s killed, Frank,” he added presently, after feeling the animal all over. “There are a couple of ribs broken, and a large bruise in the side, but that seems to be the extent of the casualty. I’ll set the ribs, and he must keep quiet for some days, and then I expect he’ll be right again.”

“Oh, I am so glad,” said Wilmore. “Yes, you’re right, Charles,” he continued, as the dog opened its eyes again and attempted to get up, but fell back on the grass with a low moan of pain. “Never mind, Lion, we’ll nurse you through it, old chap, won’t we?”

“Relieve each other in alternate watches, change bandages, and apply fresh lotion every three hours,” suggested Nick. “But with all possible respect for Lion, how are we to do that? Where are the bandages, and where the lotion? Nay, where is the hospital bed to which the patient is to be consigned?”

“Omatoko must put up a hut, and we must stay here until Lion can go with us,” said Wilmore gruffly. “If we could wait three days for a pagan Hottentot, we may wait as many, surely, for a Christian dog!”

“I don’t think you’ll get Omatoko to stay here for all the dogs that ever were whelped,” said Nick. “He’s in too much of a hurry to put salt on the tails of those Bushmen.”

“He must stay, and he shall!” returned Wilmore angrily; “I won’t have the dog thrown over. We are four, and he is only one. Stay he shall, I say.”

“Gently, Frank,” said the doctor. “I’m against throwing Lion over as much as you are, but I don’t see how we can stay here. The dog won’t be fit to walk – no, not a hundred yards – for this fortnight, and it would probably kill him, if he attempted it.”

“What’s to be done, then?” rejoined Frank shortly.

“Do as we did with Omatoko. Make a litter and carry him to the Hottentot kraal. It is not more than seven or eight miles, and we can relieve one another. Luckily he is not such a weight as Omatoko. I suppose that will satisfy you, won’t it?”

“Yes, of course, Charles,” said Wilmore. “It is very kind of you. I am afraid I was rather cross, wasn’t I? but you see – ”

“All right, old fellow, I know you’re fond of Lion; so we all are, though perhaps not so fond. Do you go and cut some of the osiers there, Omatoko will soon make them into a basket, large enough to hold the dog, and we’ll carry it on a pole slung across our shoulders. Meanwhile I’ll dress the old fellow’s wounds.”

Omatoko proved to be as skilful a basket-maker as Lavie had predicted; and the party were making preparations for a start, when the Hottentot, who had just returned from the osier bed with a last supply of twigs, announced that there was a herd of noble koodoos about half a mile off, feeding on a patch of sweet grass. They were rare in that part of the country, and the best of eating. “Suppose we kill two, three, four of them; my people like them much. They come fetch them.”

“Two, three, or four,” exclaimed Frank – “who is going to do that? Why, these koodoos, if I have been told rightly, are the shyest of all the boks, and won’t let any one come near them. We might possibly get one shot, but certainly not more.”

“Me do it,” said the Hottentot; “no want help; white boy only sit still.”

There seemed no reason for refusing his request, and the boys, laying aside the various articles with which they had loaded themselves, watched his proceedings with a good deal of interest. He first took the knife, and going to the spot where the body of the ostrich was lying, passed it round the creature’s throat and under the wings, severing these parts from the rest of the carcass. He then slit open the long neck from top to bottom, removed the bones and flesh, and introduced in their place a strong stick, over which he neatly sewed up the skin again. He then cleared away in like manner the blood and the fat from the back and wings, and sewed another pad of skin under them. These preparations took a considerable time; but Omatoko assured the lookers-on that there was little fear of the koodoos leaving their present pasture for several hours to come at the least, unless they should be molested.

The Hottentot had now nearly done his work; his last act was to gather up in his hand some light-tinted earth, which was nearly of the same colour as an ostrich’s legs, and dipping it in water, besmeared his own supporters with it. Then taking his bow and arrows in one hand, and the back and neck of the slain bird in the other, he crept down into the bush. Presently the boys saw the figure of an ostrich appear above the shrubs and stalk leisurely along, pecking at the herbage right and left, as it advanced.

“That can’t be Omatoko, to be sure,” cried Frank in amazement; “that’s a real ostrich! Where can he be hiding?”

“He is waiting for the others,” said Warley. “See yonder, the whole flock are returning. Omatoko will no doubt slip in among them. We shall distinguish him, if we watch narrowly.”

It seemed as if Ernest was right. The ostriches came straggling back through the bush, and the one they had noticed first lingered about till they had overtaken him, when he accompanied them as they strayed on towards the koodoos.

“Do you see Omatoko?” asked Nick, as the ostriches and boks became mingled together.

“No, I don’t,” said Frank, “He can’t have come out yet. He is biding his time, I expect.”

At this moment there came a faint sound like the distant twanging of a bow, and one of the boks was seen to fall. The herd started and looked suspiciously round them; and the ostriches seemed to share their uneasiness. But there was no enemy in sight, and after a few minutes of anxious hesitation, they recommenced browsing. A second twang was succeeded by a second fall, and the boks again tossed their heads and snuffed the air, prepared for immediate flight. They still lingered, however, until the overthrow of a third of their number effectually roused them. They bounded off at their utmost speed, but not before a fourth shaft had laid one of the fugitives low. Then the lads, full of astonishment and admiration, came racing up, and Omatoko, throwing off his disguise, exclaimed exultingly —

“Two, three, four; Omatoko said ‘four.’ White boy believe Omatoko now!”

“He has you there, Frank,” said Nick, laughing; “but I must own I could not have believed it possible, if I had not seen it.”

“Live and learn,” said Lavie. “I had seen it before, or I might have been of your mind. Well, Omatoko, what now? We have stayed so long that. We shan’t be able to reach your village to-night, if we carry the dog.”

“Omatoko go alone. He bring men to-morrow; carry koodoo, dog and all.”

“Very good,” said the doctor, “and we’ll camp here. That will suit us all.”