The Giraffe Hunters

Chapter Thirty One.

Disappointed

Before reaching the pit, several antelopes and other animals had been passed, – killed or injured in the crush and rush. Such of these as were still living, received but a passing glance and a blow from those who were hastening onward to a scene more wild – more frightful and horribly human in origin and execution – than words will describe.

The novelty and excitement of the scene, and the infectious example of the maddened Africans, inspired Groot Willem and his companions with a savage, blood-seeking intoxication of mind that urged them forward with nearly as much insane earnestness as the most frenzied of the Makololo.

The herds they had been driving before them were now concentrated into a quivering, struggling, noisy mass. The pit was soon full of roaring, bellowing, bleating, growling victims of the chase, that were piled one upon another, until hundreds escaped by passing over the backs of those that had preceded them.

When the overflowing of the pit had passed off, and the hunters came up to gaze on what remained, they beheld a scene never to be forgotten in life. Underneath, they could hear the roaring of a lion, being smothered by its favourite game. For the first time, it had too many antelopes within its reach. There was one creature in the crowd that was not to be overlain by the others. It was the muchocho, or white rhinoceros, they had seen while driving in the game. Every time it moved, bodies were crushed, bones broken, and the cries of rage and distress from what seemed a miniature representation of a perdition for animals became imperceptibly diminished by several voices. The muchocho was apparently standing on its hind legs in the bottom of the pit, while the upper part of its body was supported by the creatures that were screaming under its immense weight.

Mingled with the struggling mass were seen some of the camelopards; and, fearing they might be subjected to the destroying power of the huge rhinoceros, Willem placed the muzzle of his roer near one of its eyes, and fired.

The report of the gun was scarcely heard, so stunning to the ears of all was the fracas that continued; though the effect of the discharge was soon evident on the muchocho. It ceased to live.

All hands now set to work at clearing the pit, in order to save the young giraffes from being killed; that is, if they were yet living. Rheims with loops at the ends were thrown over the heads of the antelopes and other small game, by which they could be hauled out.

After a short time spent at this work, a partial clearance was effected. The body of a young giraffe was now carefully got out. It was examined with an interest verging on delirium. It was quite warm, but lifeless, its neck being broken.

One of the old ones, – a large bull, – struggling violently, was now the most conspicuous animal in the pit, and being, as Hendrik said, “too much alive,” was killed by a bullet.

The head and neck of another young giraffe was seen, whose body was nearly buried under animals larger than itself. It was apparently unharmed. Every care was taken to get it out without injury, and it was drawn gently up and two rheims placed around its neck, in order to hinder it from running away. It was not more than two months old, – just the age the hunters desired, – but it soon became evident that there was something wrong. While continuing its struggle for freedom, they observed that one of its fore feet was not set on the ground. The leg was swinging to and fro. It was broken.

The creature was young, bright, and beautiful, but could not be taken to the Colony. It could never visit Europe. The only favour that could be shown this suffering, trembling, frightened victim of Groot Willem’s ambition was to put it out of pain by shooting it, and the young hunter witnessed its death with as much pity and regret as he had felt at the loss of poor Smoke.

The pit was at length emptied; and the hunters now paused to contemplate their spoil. Seven giraffes had been destroyed, nearly all of them by having their necks broken. These, six or seven feet in length, had been too delicately made to resist the impetus of the heavy herds passing over them.

Although they had failed in procuring what they wanted, it was not yet proved that the hopo had been built in vain. It might still be available for another time. So they were informed by Macora, who said that, in two or three days, other giraffes might be found in the mimosa grove, and a second drive could be tried.

This partly reconciled the hunters to the disappointment of the day, though all felt a strong regret that two of the beautiful creatures, such as they wished-for, had been driven into the trap only to die. Many herds might be discovered, without having among them any young, such as the two now lying dead at their feet. Other young camelopards might be caught and killed; but many failures must occur before Groot Willem would relinquish the undertaking for which he had travelled so far.

The time was not wholly lost to the Makololo, for a supply of food had been obtained that would take them some time to preserve, and longer to eat.

The day after the grand hunt, long rheims, suspended on upright poles, were covered with strings of meat drying in the sun, while all the bushes and small trees in the vicinity were festooned after the same fashion. For the dried meat, or biltongue, only the best and favourite portions of each animal were used, and the rest was removed beyond the encampment, where it formed a banquet for vultures, hyenas, and other carrion creatures of the earth and air.

Three days after the butchery, all that remained of the slaughtered animals was the dried meat and polished bones.

Chapter Thirty Two.

Driven away

Four days after the unsuccessful attempt to capture the young giraffes in the hopo, the spoor of others were found on the river-bank.

Another herd of camelopards had made a home in the forest of cameel-doorn. Some of the herd were young. This was evident from the spoor.

The hopes of Groot Willem, that he might succeed in accomplishing his dearest wishes, were again high and strong; and his companions were no less enthusiastic.

Another attempt to fulfil their mission might be successful.

If so, Hendrik and Arend within a few weeks would be in the society of those of whom they were hourly thinking, and Hans would be making preparations for the long-contemplated visit to Europe.

The chief Macora had not shown the least inclination to abandon them on the failure of the first attempt. He had promised his assistance until the object they desired should be obtained; and, although domestic and political duties called him home, he stated his determination to stay with them.

His promise had been given to Willem, and everything was to be sacrificed before that could be broken.

For his devoted friendship the hunters were not ungrateful. They had learnt by this that without his assistance they could do nothing.

On the evening before the day intended for the second trial of the hopo, the giraffe hunters, in high spirits, were sharing with the chief their last bottle of Schiedam, as a substantial tribute of respect to the man who had made their wishes his own.

While indulging in pleasant anticipations of the morrow, their designs were suddenly upset by a communication from Sindo.

He had but just returned from a journey to the north, – to the place where he had found a home after being banished by Macora, – to the tribe which owned for its chief him whose horses had been shot by our hunters.

Sindo’s visit had been a stolen one, for the purpose of bringing away his wife and children. In this he had been successful; but he had also succeeded in bringing away something more, – information that the Zooloo chief, that our young hunters had offended, was still thirsting for revenge for his losses and disappointments.

He had seen Moselekatse, the tyrant-king of all that part of Africa, and had informed him that the Makololo chief, Macora, – his old enemy, – had returned to his former home, and had robbed a friend of the noble chief Moselekatse of valuable property, – of horses, guns, and slaves.

A large force had immediately been sent to capture Macora and his people, or chase them, as Sindo said, “out of the world.”

The enemy might be expected in two or three hours!

Sindo’s warning was not unheeded; and scouts were at once sent out to watch for the approach of the enemy. A danger that Macora had already apprehended was now threatening them.

Early next morning the scouts returned with the report that Moselekatse’s warriors were indeed coming. They had camped during the night about five miles off, and might be upon them within an hour.

Hastily springing upon their horses, Arend and Hendrik galloped off in the direction of the enemy, for the purpose of making a reconnaissance. During their absence the others were packing up all their valuables, and making preparation for either a fight or a flight.

The two cornets returned half an hour afterwards, bringing the report, that about three hundred armed men were approaching.

“There is not the least doubt but that they mean war,” said Hendrik. “We rode up to within three hundred yards of them. Immediately on seeing us they commenced yelling, and rushing about the plain; and, as we turned to ride back, several spears were sent after us.”

“Then the sooner we get away from here the better,” suggested Hans. “There are too many of them for us to hold our own with.”

“Macora does not seem to think so,” observed Groot Willem.

All turned to the chief, who, along with his men, was observed making preparations for a pitched battle.

“Ask him, Congo,” said Willem, “if he thinks we can drive the enemy back.”

The Kaffir made the inquiry, and was told, in reply, that Moselekatse’s men were never driven back except by superior numbers, and that they certainly would not be defeated by a few.

“But what means that? Is he going to stay here for all of us to be killed?”

To this question the chief answered that he and his men were going to act according to the desire of his friend Willem.

“Then they shall be off as quick as possible,” said Willem. “None of them shall lose their lives on my account, if I can help it.”

Not a moment was lost in getting away from the ground and so sudden was the departure that the Makololo had to leave behind them the dried meat they had taken so much trouble in curing.

The retreat was not commenced one moment too soon. As Groot Willem and Hendrik remained a little behind the others, they beheld the enemy approaching the spot that had been relinquished by the Makololo, apparently eager for a conflict.

There was no longer a doubt of the real object of their visit. They had come for the purpose of taking vengeance. Their cries and angry gestures proclaimed it; and, without waiting to see or hear more, the young hunters put spurs to their steeds and joined Macora in the retreat.

Chapter Thirty Three.

The Retreat

Macora and his party were in hopes that the pursuit might not be continued far, – that the enemy, satisfied in having broken up their camp and driven them off the ground, would return to their own country.

In this hope they were doomed to disappointment. It turned out that those in pursuit of them formed an expedition sent out by Moselekatse for the purpose of extending his dominion and there was not the least likelihood that the tyrant would relinquish his object until he had obtained success. This soon became the conviction of Macora; and he lost no time in hastening back to his home, and preparing for the invasion.

As the Makololo are of a race superior to most other South African tribes, the young hunters were surprised to see the feeling of alarm exhibited by them on learning that on of Moselekatse’s armies was advancing to attack them. In place of preparing to resist the approaching foe, a majority of the Makololo seemed only to contemplate flight.

A little information from Macora concerning Moselekatse was a satisfactory explanation of this mystery. He informed his white guests that the Matabili – that is, the people of Moselekatse – were the greatest warriors in Southern Africa, – that Moselekatse, their king, could command five thousand men, and that frequently his orders to the officers who led them to battle were to give no quarter to the enemy. Macora admitted that his own people were not cowards, but that he could not maintain a war against such a king as Moselekatse. He was quite certain that, should they make a stand and give battle to the foe, at least one half of his tribe would be killed. They would moreover be stripped of all their property, and what was left of the tribe would have to become slaves of the tyrant, and look after his cattle. There was but one way of holding their own with Moselekatse; and that was to remove everything of any value beyond his reach. By this means had Macora and his people maintained their independence for several years, and the same method must be resorted to again.

This was the decision arrived at; and, on reaching his own kraal, Macora at once put the design into execution.

The cattle were hastily collected and driven off, while the men, women, and children started after them, each carrying a load of household utensils, elephants’ teeth, and such other property as could be conveniently removed in such a hasty decampment. The women, children, and cattle were sent on in advance, while Macora and his warriors followed behind as a rear-guard, to protect them against any surprise.

Some time would be required in crossing the Limpopo, and, as the distance to the nearest drift was about five miles, there could be danger of an attack before all could effect the crossing of the stream. This fear was fully realised. The ford was not a safe one; and there was great difficulty in getting some of the cattle to take it: many of them had to be assisted in landing on the opposite bank. All this required time; and, before the crossing was completed an alarm was given. The Matabili were coming up in the rear.

So accustomed were Moselekatse’s warriors to success in any engagement, that they made no halt before commencing hostilities, although not more than two hundred of them had got forward upon the ground.

Armed with assegais, and defended with shields, they rushed forward with hideous yells, exhibiting an insatiate thirst for blood that can only be acquired by long familiarity with deeds of violence.

But although the Makololo had fled from their home without striking a blow in its defence, they now proved themselves warriors in the true sense of the word.

Rushing to the encounter, they met the Matabili hand to hand, and in the conflict that followed both parties fought with the fury of demons. One might have supposed that Macora’s principal object was the protecting of his white friends. From the behaviour of his men it was evident that he had commanded them to keep between the young hunters and the enemy. But the opportunity for practising a little of their own profession was not lost upon the two young soldiers Hendrik and Arend. They were foremost to fire on the Matabili; though their example was quickly followed by Willem and Hans, who took their first sight at the body of a human being along the barrel of a gun.

As the four pieces were discharged, a like number of Moselekatse’s men went to the earth; and two more were shot down the next instant by Macora, Sindo, and another Makololo, all three of whom chanced to be armed with muskets.

Under cover of their horses the hunters loaded again, and four more of their enemies were prevented from taking any further part in the conflict.

Could the assailants have closed with those who were shooting them down, the hunters would soon have fallen before their assegais, but this they were prevented from doing by the Makololo. Protected by their shields, and each side having great skill in using them, a single pair of the native combatants would contend for a long time before either would be seen to fall.

This, however, was not the case when any of the four hunters selected an antagonist for his aim. Every report of their guns was followed by the fall of a dusky assailant; and the Matabili warriors soon discovered the thinning of their ranks. They learnt too, that fire-arms, which they had long held in contempt, might, if properly handled, become very destructive weapons.

They now saw that they had made a mistake in commencing the action so confidently, and before the arrival of their full force, and were at length compelled to retreat, leaving more than thirty of the dead upon the ground.

In the affray, Macora lost but six men, and was so gratified with the result that he was half inclined to pursue his enemies, in the hope of rendering the victory more substantial and complete. Knowing, however, that any advantage he might obtain would be but temporary, that several thousand men would soon be against him, and that in the end he would be compelled to retreat, he abandoned the idea of pursuing the discomfited enemy, and continued the crossing of the stream.

By sunset the whole tribe, with all their property, was safe on the opposite shore, where the warriors were placed in a strong position to repel any attempt on the part of the Matabili to effect a crossing. This being done, the retreat was continued. Macora had now no country. He had lost his home, by assisting his white friends. He was now a fugitive, with a vengeful foe in his rear, and without friends in front. His tribe was too small to command respect amongst those he might encounter upon his march. They would soon hear that he was pursued by the great chief Moselekatse, and there was a prospect of his people being hunted from place to place, and allowed no rest until robbed of all their cattle, – their only wealth, – and perhaps also of their lives.

While Willem and his companions were regretting the misfortunes they had been the means of bringing upon their protector, the chief’s greatest trouble appeared to be his disappointment in having failed to assist them.

The last things taken over the river were the bodies of the Makololo killed in the battle; and these were buried during the night.

On the contrary, the bodies of the Matabili were left where they had fallen, to be stripped of their flesh by the beasts of prey.

To give the hunters some idea of the character and customs of his enemies, Macora informed them that none of the Matabili ever buried their dead, not even their own kindred; but that sons will drag the bodies of their parents out from their village into the open plain, and there leave them to the tender mercies of the hyenas and vultures.

During the night, the roars, growls, and other evidences of brutish strife, heard across the river, convinced the Makololo guard left there, that by morning only the bones of their slain enemies would be found upon the field of battle. This was music to the ears of the Makololo, while the thought of their having defeated the renowned warriors of Moselekatse almost compensated them for the loss of their homes.

Chapter Thirty Four.

Tyranny and Loyalty

Before a start could be made the next morning, Moselekatse’s braves were seen assembling in large force on the opposite bank of the river. As we have said, the women, children, and cattle had been sent forward with all possible haste, while most of the men remained to check the advance of the enemy, and, if possible, cover the retreat for another day.