Майн Рид
The Giraffe Hunters
Chapter Fifty.
A Talk about Ostriches
The Ostrich (Struthio Camelus) is supposed to be the Benonim, Jaanah, and Joneh, mentioned in the Bible. It is the Thar Edsjanmel or camel-bird of the Persians, of which everybody knows something and of which nobody knows all.
With the general appearance of the bird, I presume that my young readers are already acquainted, and shall therefore say little or nothing about it.
The stumpy-footed, two-toed, long-legged, kicking creature has wings that are apparently more useful to man than to itself. In fact, the possession of these apparently superfluous appendages is generally the cause of its being hunted by man and by him destroyed.
It is one of those unfortunate creatures, persecuted to gratify the vanity of other perhaps equally unfortunate creatures, called fashionable ladies. A full-grown ostrich is usually between seven and eight feet in height, but individuals have occasionally been met with measuring more than ten.
Its nest is merely a hole in the sand, about three feet in diameter, and usually contains twenty eggs. Half this number may be seen lying outside the nest, and elsewhere scattered over the plain. These are supposed to be intended as food for the young when they have first broken the shell. This supposition, however, is not founded upon the observation of any fact to justify a belief in it.
Job (chapter 39), speaking of the ostrich, says, she “Leaveth her eggs in the earth, and warmeth them in the dust, and forgetteth that the foot may crush them, or that the wild beast may break them. She is hardened against her young ones as though they were not hers: her labour is in vain without fear.” This account does not altogether correspond with modern observation.
In the heat of the day, when the eggs are under the burning sun, the ostrich can well afford to leave them for a while and go off in quest of food. At night, when it is cool and the eggs need protection, the bird is ever to be found doing its duty, and the male ostrich is often seen in charge of the young brood, and assiduously guarding them. At such times, if molested, the old birds have been known to act in the same way as the partridge or plover, by shamming lame, so as to mislead the intruder.
From much more now known of the ostrich, it cannot be said to be wanting in paternal or maternal instincts; and the idea of its being so has only originated in the fact of their nests being so often found deserted during the hot hours of the day.
The food of the ostrich generally consists of seeds and leaves of various plants. Owing to the nature of the dry desert soil on which it is obtained, the only species it can procure are of a hard, dry texture; and it is supposed to be for the purpose of assisting nature in their digestion that the bird will swallow pebbles, pieces of iron, or other mineral substances. Some have been disembowelled, in whose stomachs was found a collection so varied as to resemble a small curiosity shop or geological museum.
Stones have been taken out of the stomach of an ostrich each weighing more than a pound avoirdupois!
When this great bird is going at full run, – for of course it cannot fly, – its stride is full twelve feet in length, and its rate of speed not less than twenty-five miles to the hour. It cannot be overtaken by a horseman, and its capture is generally the result of some stratagem.
It always feeds on the open plain, where it can obtain an unobstructed view, and be warned in good time of the approach of an enemy. It possesses a sharp vision, and from the manner its eyes are set in its small, disproportioned head, held eight or ten feet above the surface of the ground, it can take in the whole circle of the horizon at a glance. On this account the utmost caution is required in approaching it.
In one respect the author of the book of Job has closely followed nature in his description of this bird; for “God hath deprived her of wisdom, neither hath he imparted to her understanding.”
The ostrich is a stupid creature, and is often captured by taking advantage of its stupidity. Nature seems to have placed in its little head the belief that in running to the leeward it will encounter some impassable barrier, and be overtaken by whatever pursues it. Ostrich-hunters are well acquainted with this peculiarity, and on approaching a flock they always ride to the windward. This manoeuvre is observed by the birds, who believe that an attempt is being made to cut off their retreat in the only direction in which it can be successfully made. They immediately start on a course which, if continued, must cross that taken by the hunters. Owing to the greater distance it has to run, the latter often get near enough to bring the bird down with a shot. Were the silly bird to retreat in the opposite direction, it would be perfectly safe from pursuit.
The feathers of the ostrich are beautifully adapted to the warm climate of the desert country it inhabits. They allow a free circulation of the air around its skin, while giving shade to its body. The white plumes of the male bring the greatest price, and sometimes sell for 12 pounds the pound, Troy weight, of only twelve ounces. The black feathers seldom fetch more than a fourth of the price.
Two species of ostrich are found on the great plains of South America, and one other in Australia. None of these attain the gigantic proportions of the African, nor are their plumes at all comparable in beauty or value to those of the Struthio Camelus.
Ostriches were once a favourite article of food with the Romans; and it is stated that the brains of six hundred of these birds were consumed at one feast. The flesh is still eaten, but only by the native Africans. The bird possesses great strength, and can run at a rapid rate with a man mounted on its back.
It was undoubtedly designed by its Creator for some other purpose than that of contributing to the gratification of man’s vanity.
Ostriches are easily domesticated. This is done to some extent by the Arabians, who breed and bring them up for the sake of the feathers, as also to procure them as an article of food.
But the more enlightened people of the present day make no other effort to ascertain their utility, than to keep a pair or two of them shut up in a public garden for children and their nurses to gaze at.
Chapter Fifty One.
Another Delay
Next morning, the hunters were early in the saddle, and off for the karroo. For some distance, they rode along the bank of the stream which was fringed by a growth of willow-trees. This course was taken to get to windward of the ostriches, in the hope of having a shot at them as they ran up the wind. Had their object been to stalk any other species of animal, they would have advanced upon it from the leeward.
Before they had gone a great way over the karroo, five huge bipeds were seen about a mile away. They were ostriches. They were apparently coming towards them with great speed, and the four hunters extended their line to cut off an advance which the stupid bird mistakes for a retreat. They were moving in long rapid strides; and, as they drew nearer, the hunters saw that, to obtain a good shot, they must gallop farther to the north. The birds were going in a curved line that would carry them away from the place where the hunters expected to have met them. To get within sure range, these saw that they would have a sharp ride for it, and their horses were instantly put to their full speed.
Though the ostriches appeared to be running in a straight line from the place where they had started, such was not the case. They were curving around just sufficiently to avoid the hunters, and yet get to the windward of them. Their pace being much faster than that of the horses, they succeeded in crossing the course pursued by the latter, about three hundred yards in advance of them.
Willem and Hendrik hardly taking time to pull up, dismounted and fired. But not with the desired result. The ostriches were at too great a distance, and ran on untouched. Knowing that a stern chase after them would prove a failure, the hunters came to a stop.
Several other ostriches were afterwards seen; but, as on the open karroo, it was found impossible to approach them; and our adventurers were compelled to return to their camp without taking back a single feather. Their want of success was a source of great gratification to Swartboy. He could kill ostriches afoot, while four white men, although well-armed and mounted on fast horses, had failed to do so. The Bushman could not avoid making an exhibition of his conceit, and he proceeded to inform his masters that if they were very anxious to obtain ostrich-feathers, he could easily put them in the way. As none of the hunters were inclined to put Swartboy’s abilities for ostrich-hunting to a further test they acknowledged their defeat and resumed the interrupted journey.
After leaving the karroo, the hunters entered into a very beautiful and fertile country possessed by small tribes of peaceful Bechuanas, who had long been allowed to remain undisturbed by their warlike neighbours, for the reason that they lived at a great distance from any hostile tribe. It was a country Willem was reluctant to pass rapidly through; for, after leaving it behind, he knew there would be very little hope of again seeing giraffes.
Along the way, little groves of the cameel-doorn were occasionally seen; but, for all this, no camelopards.
At a village, passed by them on the route, they were informed that giraffes sometimes visited the neighbourhood, and that there was no time of the year, but that, with a little trouble, some of these animals might be found within a day’s distance.
This information, Hendrik, Arend, and Hans heard rather with regret: they knew that it was likely to cause another impediment to their homeward journey.
In this they were not deceived. Willem stoutly declared that he would proceed no further for the present; at the same time, telling the others that, if they were impatient to reach Graaf Reinet, they might go on without him.
This, all three would willingly have done, had they dared. But they knew that, on reaching home, they would be unable to give any satisfactory explanation for deserting their companion. People would inquire why they had not remained to assist the great hunter in his praiseworthy enterprise. What answer could they give?
There was both honour and profit to be derived by delivering two young giraffes to the Dutch consul, and they would not have been unwilling to share in both, if the thing could have been conveniently accomplished. For all that, they would have preferred returning home without further delay, but for the determination of Willem to remain.
The four Makololo were also a little chafed at the delay. They were anxious to see something of the wonders of civilisation, but their impatience was not openly expressed. Before setting out, they had been instructed by Macora in all things to be guided by Willem; and they had no intention of disobeying.
Congo was the only one who was wholly indifferent to the future. His home was with Groot Willem, and he seemed to have no more concern or remembrance for Graaf Reinet than his dog Spoor’em.
Choosing a convenient place for their encampment within a few miles of the Bechuana village, the youths resolved to stop for a while, and make a final effort at capturing the camelopards. Should they succeed in finding these animals, yet fail in taking any of them alive, Groot Willem promised that he would make no further opposition to returning home.
As all knew that the promise would be faithfully kept, they consented to stay for a few days without showing any signs of reluctance.
Crossing the country with a general course to the south-west, ran a stream, along which was a belt of timber, or rather a series of disconnected copses. The trees were mostly mimosas. In every copse could be seen some trees with torn branches, and twigs cut off, an evidence that they had been browsed upon by the camelopards; while the spoor of these animals appeared in many places along the edge of the stream.
As the damage done to the mimosas, and the tracks in the mud, showed signs of having been recently made, our hunters came to the conclusion that giraffes could not be far off.
“Something whispers me,” said Willem, “that we shall succeed at last. I left home with the intention of never returning without two young giraffes; and I have not yet relinquished the hope of seeing Graaf Reinet again. We will make no more pits; but let me once more set my eyes on a giraffe and, mark me, it is mine, if I have to run it down and capture it with my own hands.”
“That is not possible,” remarked Hendrik. “True, you might catch a wild elephant; but what would you do with it? or, rather, what would it do with you?”
“That question I shall take into serious consideration after I’ve caught my giraffe,” answered Willem. “I can only say now, that, if I meet with one, I’m not going to part with it alive, – not if I have to exchange my horse for it.”
Three days were passed in riding about the country; and, during that time, the hunters saw not a single giraffe. In this respect, they were more unfortunate than Swartboy and the Makololo, who remained at the camp. On the evening of the third day which the hunters had spent in beating some groves up the river, Swartboy reported, on their return, that two giraffes had passed within sight of the camp. He described them as an aged couple that had, no doubt, been often hunted. To these ancient inhabitants of the mimosa forest, the Bushman ascribed the spoor and other signs of giraffes that had been seen. He had compared the tracks of the animals that trotted past the camp, with those on the banks of the stream, and he pronounced both to have been made by the same feet.
Swartboy further informed his young masters that he could have captured the two animals he had seen, but did not, because they were old, and not worth the trouble.
If Hendrik, Arend, and Hans were inclined to place but little reliance on this boast of the Bushman, they gave to the rest of his story more than a fair share of credence. To them it was positive evidence that any longer stay in the neighbourhood would be simply a waste of time.
Willem saw that they were once more inclined on defeating his plans, but it only strengthened him in the resolution to continue a little longer in the place.
Each of the four had a cherished project he was anxious to see fulfilled. Willem’s wish was to obtain two young giraffes; and his three companions found that there was no chance of his relinquishing his design, – at least, not for many days.
Two more were passed upon the spot, and then our young adventurers, who, although young in years, were old in friendship, came very near parting company. At this crisis, a spectacle was presented to their eyes that had the happy effect of once more uniting them for a common purpose.
Chapter Fifty Two.
A Hopeless Chase
While the hunters were at breakfast, they were startled by the dull, heavy sound of footfalls, and the yelping of wild dogs. A quarter of a mile to the eastward they saw approaching them a large drove of springboks, accompanied by a band of giraffes. More than a hundred of the antelopes, and between twenty and thirty camelopards were flying before a few wilde honden.
The wild hounds of South Africa hunt in packs, and proceed upon a well-organised plan. The whole pack is never engaged in running upon the view. Some remain in reserve, and, guided by the voices of those that are running, frequently save space by cutting off angles. This they can do whenever the chase is not made in a straight line.
In this manner they relieve each other, and the pursuit is continued until the game becomes exhausted and is easily overtaken.
The perseverance, energy, and cunning displayed by these animals is something wonderful.
They do not commence a hunt until driven to it by hunger, and then it is often carried on for many hours, their tenacity of purpose being shown by their continuing the chase till their victim falls down before them. They were in full run after the springboks, and one of those animals was sure to reward their skill and labour by affording them a dinner.
The giraffes were foolish enough to think, or act, as though the wilde honden were hunting them; and in place of remaining still and permitting the dogs to pass, or turning to one side, the foolish creatures ran on with the springboks. At the time they came up with the hunters, they were already exhibiting signs of distress. To Groot Willem it was a gratifying sight. A herd of giraffes was at hand. Some of them were evidently young ones. Three of them he observed were apparently but a few weeks old. The very things for which he had travelled so far were now before his eyes, apparently coming to deliver themselves up.
It was not until the springboks swerved to the right to avoid the horsemen, that these little animals became separated from the giraffes. The latter continued on along the edge of the stream, while the former, pursued by the wild dogs, made off towards some hills to the north.
The speed of the camelopard is not quite equal to that of a horse, and the hunters knew that the desired objects could be overtaken; but what then? The giraffes might be shot down, but how were they to be taken alive?
There was no time for reflection. The necessity of commencing the chase, and the excitement of following it up, occupied all the time of the hunters.
After a sharp run of about two miles, the camelopards began to show further signs of distress. Already exhausted by their flight before the hounds, and now pursued by fresh horses, their utmost efforts did not save them from being overtaken; after a two-mile chase our hunters were riding upon their heels.
A portion of the herd, becoming separated from the rest turned away from the bank of the stream. There were but three who went thus, – a male and female followed by a young one, – a beautiful creature. Groot Willem gazed longingly upon it as he galloped by its side, and became nearly mad with the desire to secure it. The pace of the three had now been changed from a gallop to a trot, in which their feet were lifted but a few inches from the ground, and drawn forward in an awkward shambling manner, that proved them exhausted with their long run. Still, they ran on at a pace that kept Willem’s horse at a sharp canter.
In a short time he had got out of sight both of the main herd and his comrades. Nothing could be seen of either. He might have reflected that there was some risk of losing himself; but he did not. All his thoughts were given to the capture of the young giraffe.
Slower and more slow became the pace both of pursuer and pursued, the horse streaming with sweat, and nearly ready to drop in his tracks.
“Why should I follow them farther?” thought Willem. “Why should I kill my horse for the sake of gazing a little longer on a creature I cannot take?”
Though conscious of the folly he was committing, Willem could not bring himself to abandon the chase.
By his side trotted the young giraffe, beautiful in colour, graceful in form, and to his mind priceless in value. But how was it to become his? The coveted prize, although apparently but a few weeks old, and nearly exhausted by its long race, was still able to defy any efforts he might make to check its laboured flight.
He was now more than a mile from the river, and his horse was tottering under him, nearly exhausted by its long exertions. What should he do?
Stop, give his horse a rest, and then return to his companions. This was the command of common sense; but he was not guided by that. For the time, he was insane with excitement, anxiety, and despair. He was mad, and acted like a madman. The hopes and aspirations he had been for months indulging in were concentrated into the hour; and in that hour he could not yield them up. He was too much exasperated to reason calmly or clearly. A little extra exertion on the part of his horse might place him in advance of the three giraffes; and he might drive them back to the river.
“Yes,” exclaimed he, nearly frantic with the fear of losing what seemed so nearly gained.
“If I cannot catch this young giraffe, I can drive it. I’ll drive it to Graaf Reinet. It shall not escape me!”
Plunging his spurs into the foam-covered flanks of his horse, he sprang forward in advance of the three giraffes; and as he expected, they came to a halt. Pulling up, he wheeled round facing them, while the two old giraffes turned at the same time and made off in the back direction.
As they did so, one of them came in contact with the tottering calf, that for a second or so, seemed to become entangled between its legs; and at their separation, the young one staggered a pace or two and fell heavily upon the earth.
