Hunting the Lions

Chapter Eight.

Shows that too High a Price is Sometimes Paid for Success in Hunting

The successful commencement of this part of the day’s hunt was somewhat curiously brought about by the major.

Most people have a distinct and strong antipathy for some creature which has the power of inspiring them with a species of loathing, amounting almost to terror. Some who would face a mad bull coolly enough spring with disgust from a cockroach or a centipede. Others there are who would permit a mouse to creep about their person with indifference, but would shudder at the bare idea of a frog happening to get under their bedclothes. Now Major Garret’s peculiar horror was a serpent. He was a daring man by nature, and experience had made him almost foolhardy. He would have faced a lion, or an enraged elephant, any day without flinching, and cared nothing for a buffalo-bull, however mad, provided he had a trustworthy gun in his hand; but a serpent would cause him to leap into the air like a kangaroo, and if it chanced to come at him unawares he would fly from it like the wind, in a paroxysm of horror—if not fear!

There was no lack of serpents in that region to trouble the worthy major. Numbers of them, of all kinds and sizes, were to be seen. One in particular, which Mafuta killed with an assegai, was eight feet three inches long, and so copiously supplied with poison that one of the dogs which attacked it, and was bitten, died almost instantaneously, while another died in about five minutes. Tom Brown, on another occasion, knocked over one of the same species, and it continued to distil pure poison from the fangs for hours after its head was cut off. Besides these there were the puff-adders, which were very dangerous; and several vipers, as well as many other kinds which were comparatively harmless. But the poor major’s horror was so great as to cause him to regard the whole family in one light. He never paused to observe whether a serpent was poisonous. Enough for him that it was one of the hated race, to be killed in a violent hurry or fled from in tremendous haste!

This being the case, it is not to be regarded as a wonder that, when the party, early in the day, were passing a thicket out of which glided a very large serpent, the major should give a shout and incontinently discharge both barrels at it simultaneously. It chanced to be a python of great size, full fifteen feet long, and thicker than a man’s thigh, but a really harmless species of serpent. The major, however, did not know this, or did not care. His shots, although fired at random, hit the creature in the spine; nevertheless it retained power to raise its head fully five feet in the air, and to open its mouth in a very threatening manner within a few feet of the major’s face. This was more than he could bear. He turned, dropped his gun, and fled like a maniac, while his comrades, who had recognised the species of serpent, stood laughing at him heartily. He did not stop until he dashed headlong into a thicket, far away to the right of their line of march. Here the “wait-a-bit” thorns effectually checked his progress.

Now it chanced that in this very thicket, which would have been passed by unnoticed but for the python, there was a portly young female elephant with a very stout little daughter. Amazed at the very sudden and reckless intrusion of the sportsman, this anxious mother at once sounded her war-trumpet and charged. The major turned and fled back to his friends as fast as he had run away from them. The elephant did not follow, but the hunters, having discovered her retreat, were not slow to follow and attack her.

As they drew near, the mother elephant set herself on the danger side of her little one, and putting her proboscis over it, as if to assure it of protection, urged it to run, which it did pretty smartly. But neither of them galloped; their quickest pace was only a sharp walk, which, however, was quick enough to oblige the pursuers to run at full speed. The big one frequently glanced back, apparently to see if she were gaining ground, and then looked at her young one and ran after it, sometimes sideways, as if her feelings were divided between anxiety to protect her offspring and desire to revenge the temerity of her persecutors. The hunters kept about a hundred yards in her rear, and as they were pretty sure of securing her, the European sportsmen held back, in order to have an opportunity of witnessing the method of attack practised by the band of natives who were with them.

Presently they came to a rivulet, and the time spent by the elephants in descending and getting up the opposite bank enabled the natives to get within twenty yards of them, when they discharged their spears at them. The old one received the most of these in various parts of her body, for she did her best to shield the young one; but the latter received a few notwithstanding. After the first discharge the old one’s sides ran down with blood, and in a short time she bristled all over with spears like a monstrous porcupine. She soon seemed to give up all thought of defending her young, and began to flee for her life, so that the calf was quickly killed; but no sooner did the mother observe this, than all fear forsook her; she stopped in her career, turned round, and, with a shriek of rage, charged her pursuers, who fled right and left like a band of huge black monkeys. The elephant ran straight on and went right through the whole party, but came near no one. She then continued her flight, in the course of which she crossed several rivulets, and at each of these received fresh spears. Several times she turned and charged, but never in any ease did she run more than a hundred yards.

Gradually she grew weak from loss of blood, which poured from her like rain; and at last, when she was making a charge, she staggered round and sank down dead in a kneeling posture.

The natives were overjoyed of course at their success, and at the prospect of a baked elephant’s foot for supper, and Hicks was much pleased with the tusks, which were large and valuable. He surveyed them with a complacent smile, and observed that he had much need of a little ivory like that, for the expenses of a trading expedition were very heavy.

“But you have reason to expect a good deal in this part of the country,” said the major, “if all that is rumoured be true.”

“No doubt there is some truth in what is reported; we shall see. Meanwhile, yonder goes something to encourage us.”

He pointed towards an opening in a thicket close at hand, where an elephant was seen running towards them as if ignorant of their presence.

“Some one must be after that fellow,” said Hicks. About a dozen natives emerged from the thicket as he spoke. They were evidently driving the elephant, which was a large bull, towards the hunters for the purpose of letting them have a good shot; so the latter at once hid themselves. When the elephant drew near it seemed to suspect danger ahead, for it burned to the right when at a distance of about a hundred yards. This was a great disappointment, so the major, rather than be balked altogether, tried a long shot and broke the animal’s fore-leg. Then, running after him at a pace which even the supple natives could not equal, he got close up and sent a ball into his head, which stunned him; but it took four additional shots to kill him.

This was an unusually fortunate case, for elephants are not easily killed. The African elephant is in many respects different from that of India, and is never killed, like the Ceylon elephant, by a single ball in the brain. Dr Livingstone tells us that on one occasion, when he was out with a large party of natives, a troop of elephants were attacked by them, and that one of these, in running away, fell into a hole, and, before he could extricate himself, an opportunity was allowed for all the men to throw their spears. When the elephant rose he was like a huge porcupine, for each of the seventy or eighty men had discharged more than one spear at him. As they had no more, they sent for the Doctor to shoot him. He, anxious to put the animal at once out of pain, went up to within twenty yards, rested his gun on an ant-hill, so as to take steady aim; but though he fired twelve two-ounce bullets, all he had, into different parts, he could not kill it. As it was getting dark, they were obliged to leave it standing there, intending to return in the morning in the full expectation of finding it dead; but though they searched all that day, and went over more than ten miles of ground, they never saw it again!

The female elephant killed by our hunters at this time was a comparatively small one. Its height was eight feet eight inches. Many of those which were afterwards killed were of much greater height. Indian elephants never reach to the enormous size of the African elephant, which is distinguished from that of India by a mark that cannot be mistaken, namely, the ear, which in the African species is enormously large. That of the female just killed measured four feet five inches in length and four feet in breadth. A native has been seen to creep under an elephant’s ear so as to be quite covered from the rain. The African elephant has never been tamed at the Cape, nor has one ever been exhibited in England.

But to return to our hunters. Before that day had closed, the major and his friends had made good bags. The total result of the day’s hunt by both parties was, five sea-cows, four elephants, two buffaloes, a giraffe, and a number of birds of various kinds.

Of course this set the natives of the kraal into a ferment of joyous festivity, and the sportsmen rose very high in their estimation, insomuch that they overwhelmed them with gifts of native produce. Our hero was an especial favourite, because, on several occasions, he turned his medical and surgical knowledge to good account, and afforded many of them great relief from troubles which their own doctors had failed to cure or charm away.

Some time after this, when they were travelling through a comparatively dry district, they encamped near a pool of water, and the sights they saw there were most amazing; for all the animals in the neighbourhood flocked to the pool to slake their burning thirst.

After supper, instead of going to rest, Tom Brown and most of the party resolved to go and watch this pool—the moon being bright at the time. They had not lain long in ambush beside it when a troop of elephants came rushing into it, and began to drink with great avidity, spirting the water over each other and shrieking with delight. For some hours the hunters remained on the watch there, and saw animals of all kinds come down to drink—antelopes, zebras, buffaloes, etcetera, in great numbers.

Thus they passed through the country, enjoying themselves, and adding considerably to Hicks’s stock of ivory, when an incident occurred which threw a deep gloom over the party for some time.

One day they went out after some elephants which were reported to be near to their encampment, and about noon rested a little to refresh themselves. They had set out as a united party on this occasion accompanied by a large band of natives armed with spears. Just after leaving the spot where they rested, the major discovered that he had left his knife behind him, and went back to look for it, in company with Tom Brown. As it was only quarter of a mile off, or less, they foolishly left their guns behind them. On nearing the spot, Tom stopped a few moments, and bent down to examine a beautiful flower. The major walked on, but had not gone many paces when three lions walked out of a thicket not twenty paces off. Tom had risen, and saw the lions, and, for the first time in his life, felt a sensation about the heart which is popularly known as “the blood curdling in the vein.” The major, being totally unarmed, stopped, and stood motionless like a statue. The lions stopped also, being evidently taken by surprise at the sudden and unexpected apparition of a man! Had the major turned and fled, it is almost certain that his fate would have been sealed, but he stood firm as a rock, and Tom observed that he did not even change colour as he gazed with a fixed glassy stare at the lions.

Unused to such treatment, the animals winced under it. Their own glances became uneasy; then they turned slowly round and slunk away, with the air of creatures which know that they have been doing wrong! In a few moments they bounded off at full speed, their pace being accelerated by the terrible yell which burst simultaneously from Tom and the major, who found intense relief in this violent expression of their pent-up feelings!

But this, good reader, is not the gloomy incident to which we have referred. It was just after the occurrence of this minor episode in the proceedings of the day, that the party came upon fresh tracks of a troop of elephants, and set off in pursuit. The Englishmen were on horseback, having obtained steeds from a trader whom they had met farther south, but the natives—a very large band—were on foot.

While they were advancing through a somewhat open part of the country, four lions were seen on the top of a low sandhill, which was covered with bushes and a few stunted trees. It was at once resolved that they should be surrounded. Accordingly, the natives were ordered to form a wide ring round the hill.

“Now,” said Hicks, who assumed command of the party in virtue of his superior knowledge, “we must separate and advance from different directions, and be sure, gentlemen, that you don’t shoot the niggers. Look well before you. That hollow is a very likely place for one of them to run along, therefore the best shot among you had better go up there. Who is the best shot?”

The trader smiled knowingly, for he knew that the major esteemed himself the best.

“I think I am,” said Wilkins, with an air of great simplicity.

There was a general laugh at this, for it was well known that Wilkins was the worst shot of the party.

“Well, now,” said he with a good-natured smile, “since you have insulted me so grossly, I think myself entitled to name the best man; I therefore suggest Tom Brown.”

“Right,” said Pearson.

The others being all agreed, Tom consented, with becoming modesty, to take the post of honour and of danger.

“Are we to ride or walk?” he asked.

“Walk, of course,” said Hicks. “The ground is much too rough for horses.”

“And I trust, Tom,” said Wilkins, “that you will permit me to follow you. I am the worst shot, you know, and the worst and best should go together on the acknowledged principle that extremes meet.”

This being arranged, the sportsmen dismounted, fastened their horses to trees, and separated.

The circle of men gradually closed in and ascended the hill pretty near to each other. Presently Tom Brown observed one of the lions get upon a piece of rock. The major also saw him, and being anxious to secure the first shot, fired somewhat hastily and hit the rock on which the magnificent brute was standing, as if it had got up there to take a cool survey of the field. He bit at the spot struck, as a dog bites at a stick or stone thrown at him. Next moment Tom Brown sent a bullet straight into his heart, and his tail made a splendid flourish as he fell off his pedestal!

Almost immediately after two of the other lions broke cover, dashed towards the circle of men, went right through them and escaped. The courage of the natives proved unequal to the danger of facing such a charge. A great shout—partly, no doubt, of disappointment—was given when the lions escaped. This had the effect of causing the fourth lion to break cover and leap upon a rock as the first had done. The hunter nearest to him was Pearson, who was not farther off than shout thirty yards. He took good aim, fired both barrels at him, and tumbled him off the rock into a small bush beside it.

“He is wounded,” cried Hicks, “but not killed. Have a care!”

Pearson was loading his gun as fast as possible, when he heard a loud shout, and cries of “Look out!” “Take care!” Starting, and turning half round, he saw the animal in the act of springing on him. Before he could move he was struck on the head, and next moment the lion and he went down together. Growling horribly, the enraged brute seized poor Pearson and shook him as a terrier dog shakes a rat. Although stunned, he was able to turn a little to relieve himself of its weight, for the lion had placed one paw on the back of his head. Instantly the major, Tom Brown, and Hicks ran up and fired six shots into him almost simultaneously, and at a few yards’ distance. With a terrific roar he left Pearson, and, springing on Hicks, caught him by the leg. Mafuta immediately rushed at him with a spear, but was caught by the lion on the shoulder, and dragged down. Seeing this, Tom Brown caught up the spear and plunged it deep into the chest of the brute, which seized it savagely in his teeth and snapped it in two like a twig, throwing Tom down in the act; but another bullet from Wilkins, and the effects of the previous shots, caused him to drop down suddenly quite dead.

It was found on examination that the injuries received by poor Pearson were mortal. As could just speak, but could not move. A litter was therefore hastily prepared for him, and one also for Hicks, whose leg was severely injured, though fortunately not broken. Mafuta’s hurts were trifling, and Tom Brown had only received one or two scratches in his fall. In a short time the litters were ready, and the party returned to their encampment.

That night Pearson expressed a strong desire to have the Bible read to him, and Tom Brown, who had done all that professional skill could accomplish to relieve his comrade’s suffering body, sought out from the bottom of his box that precious book which the missionary had told him contained medicine for the soul. The dying man was very anxious. As gave Tom no rest, but questioned him eagerly and continuously during the whole night about the things which concerned his soul. His doctor could not assist him much, and keenly did he feel, at that time, how awful it is to postpone thoughts of eternity to a dying hour. As did his best, however, to comfort his friend, by reading passage after passage from the sacred book, dwelling particularly on, and repeating, this text—“The blood of Jesus Christ, His Son, cleanseth from all sin.” Towards morning Pearson fell into a lethargic sleep, out of which he never awoke. Next day they buried him under the shade of a spreading tree, and left him there—alone in the wilderness.

Chapter Nine.

The Last

From this period everything like good fortune seemed to forsake the hunters. The trader’s wound became so painful that he resolved to return to the settlements, and accordingly their faces were turned southward.

But the way was toilsome, the heat intense, and the water scarce—more so than it had been on the outward journey. To add to their troubles, fever and ague attacked most of the white men, and one of them (Ogilvie) died on the journey.

At last Tom Brown, who had up to that time been one of the strongest of the party, broke down, and it was found to be necessary to leave him behind at a native village, for it would have been certain death to the others to have remained with him, and their doing so could have done him no good.

“I cannot tell you, Tom,” said the major, as he sat beside his friend’s couch the night before they parted, “how deeply it grieves me to leave you in this way, but you see, my dear fellow, that the case is desperate. You are incapable of moving. If we remain here the most of us will die, for I find that it is all I can do to drag one leg after the other, and I have grave doubts as to whether I shall ever get out of this rascally country alive. As to poor Bob Wilkins, he is in a worse condition than myself. Now, our intention is to leave you all the physic, push on as fast as possible to the nearest settlement, where we shall get more for ourselves, and send out a party of natives under some trustworthy trader to fetch you out of the country.”

“You are very kind, major,” said Tom languidly, “but I cannot allow you to leave me all the physic. Your own life may depend on having some of it, and—”

“There, don’t exhaust yourself, Tom, with objections, for Bob and I have made up our minds to do it. The very fact that every day we are getting nearer the habitable parts of the world will keep our spirits up and give us strength, and you may depend upon it, my poor fellow, that we won’t waste time in sending help to you.”

The major’s voice trembled a little, for he had become very weak, and had secret misgivings that he would never see his friend again.

“We are going to leave Mafuta with you,” he added quickly.

“That’s right,” exclaimed Tom, with an expression of satisfaction. “If any one is able to pull me through this bout, Mafuta is the man. By the way, major, will you do me the favour to open my portmanteau and fetch me the Bible you will find there. I mean to read it. Do you know I have been thinking that we are great fools to keep calling ourselves Christians when we have scarcely any of the signs of Christianity about us, and particularly in putting off the consideration of our souls’ interests to a time like this?”

“Upon my word, Tom, I agree with you,” said the major.

“Well, then,” said Tom, “like a good fellow, get the Bible for me, and let me advise you as a friend to make use of the one the missionary gave you. I mean to turn over a new leaf. My only fear is that if I get well I shall become as indifferent as I was before.”

“No fear of that, Tom, you are much too honest-hearted to be so changeable.”

“H’m, I don’t know,” said Tom, with an attempt at a smile; “I should not be easy if my salvation depended on the honesty of my heart. I rather fear, major, that your method of comforting me is not what the missionary would call orthodox. But good night, old fellow; I feel tired, and find it wonderfully difficult not only to speak but to think, so I’ll try to sleep.”

Saying this our hero turned on his side and soon fell into a quiet slumber, out of which he did not awake until late the following morning.

The major, meanwhile, sought for and found the Bible in his portmanteau, and laid it on his pillow, so that he might find it there on awaking. For a long time he and Wilkins sat by the sick man’s side next morning, in the hope of his awaking, that they might bid him good-bye; but Tom did not rouse up, so, being unwilling to disturb him, they left without having the sad satisfaction of saying farewell.

When Tom Brown awoke, late in the day, he found Mafuta sitting at his feet with a broad grin on his dusky countenance.

“What are you laughing at, you rascal?” demanded Tom, somewhat sternly.

“Me laffin’ at you’s face!”

“Indeed, is it then so ridiculous?”

“Yis, oh yis, you’s bery ri’clous. Jist no thicker dan de edge ob hatchet.”

Tom smiled. “Well, I’m not fat, that’s certain; but I feel refreshed. D’you know, Mafuta, I think I shall get well after all.”

“Ho, yis,” said Mafuta, with a grin, nodding his woolly head violently, and displaying a magnificent double row of teeth; “you’s git well; you had slep an’ swet mos’ bootiful. Me wish de major see you now.”

“The major; is he gone?”

“Yis, hoed off dis morrownin.”

“And Mr Wilkins?”

“Hoed off too.”

Tom Brown opened his eyes and stared silently for a few minutes at his companion.

“Then we are all alone, you and I,” he said suddenly.

“Yis, all alone, sept de two tousand Caffres ob de kraal; but dey is nobody—only black beasts.”

Tom laughed to hear his attendant talk so scornfully of his countrymen, and Mafuta laughed to see his master in such good spirits; after which the former became grave, and, feeling a slight twinge of hunger, made a sudden demand for food. Mafuta rose and left the tent, and Tom, turning on his side, observed the Bible lying on the pillow. He opened it, but forgot to read, in consequence of his attention being arrested by the extreme thinness of his hands. Recovering himself, he turned to the twenty-first psalm, but had only read the first verse when the book dropt from his fingers, and he again fell sound asleep.