Von Bloom was puzzled and perplexed. He could not commence his hunting excursions until this question was settled. Some place must be prepared, where the children would be safe during his absence.
While revolving the subject in his mind, he happened to cast his eyes upward among the branches of the nwana-tree. All at once his attention became fixed upon those huge limbs, for they had awakened within him a strange memory. He remembered having heard that, in some parts of the country, and perhaps not very far from where he then was, the natives live in trees. That sometimes a whole tribe, of fifty or more, make their home in a single tree; and do so to secure themselves against savage beasts, and sometimes equally savage men. That they build their houses upon platforms, which they erect upon the horizontal branches; and that they ascend by means of ladders, which are drawn up after them at night when they go to rest.
All this Von Bloom had heard, and all of it is positively true. Of course the reflection occurred to him, why could he not do the same? Why could he not build a house in the gigantic nwana? That would give him all the security he desired. There they could all sleep with perfect confidence of safety. There, on going out to hunt, he could leave the children, with the certainty of finding them on his return. An admirable idea!--how about its practicability?
He began to consider this. If he only had planks to make a staging or platform, the rest would be easy. Any slight roof would be sufficient up there. The leaves almost formed a roof. But the flooring--this was the difficulty. Where were planks to be got? Nowhere, in that neighbourhood.
His eye, at that moment, chanced to fall upon the wagon. Ha! there were planks there. But to break up his beautiful wagon? No--no--no! Such a thing was not to be thought of. But stay! there was no need to break it up--no need to knock out a single nail. It would serve every purpose without breaking a splinter off it. The fine vehicle was made to take to pieces, and put up again at will.
He could take it to pieces. The broad bottom alone should remain whole.
That of itself would be the platform. Hurrah!
The field-cornet, excited with the development of this fine plan, now communicated it to the others. All agreed that it was just the thing; and as the day was before them, they made no more ado, but set about carrying out the design.
A ladder thirty feet long had first to be constructed. This occupied a good while; but at length a stout rough article was knocked up, which served the purpose admirably. It gave them access to the lowermost limb; and from this they could construct steps to all the others.
Von Bloom ascended, and after careful examination chose the site of the platform. This was to rest upon two strong horizontal limbs of equal height, and diverging very gradually from each other. The quant.i.ty of thick branches in the great tree afforded him a choice.
The wagon was now taken to pieces--a work of only a few minutes--and the first thing hauled up was the bottom. This was no slight performance, and required all the strength of the camp. Strong "rheims" were attached to one end, and these were pa.s.sed over a limb of the tree, still higher up than those on which the staging was to rest. One stood above to guide the huge piece of plankwork, while all the rest exerted their strength upon the ropes below. Even little Jan pulled with all his might--though a single pound avoirdupois weight would have been about the measure of his strength.
The piece was hoisted up, until it rested beautifully upon the supporting limbs; and then a cheer rose from below, and was answered by Swartboy among the branches.
The heaviest part of the work was over. The boxing of the wagon was pa.s.sed up, piece by piece, and set in its place just as before. Some branches were lopped off to make room for the cap-tent; and then it was also hauled up, and mounted.
By the time the sun set, everything was in its place; and the aerial house was ready for sleeping in. In fact, that very night they slept in it, or, as Hans jocularly termed it, they all went to "roost."
But they did not consider their new habitation quite complete as yet.
Next day they continued to labour upon it. By means of long poles they extended their platform from the wagon quite up to the trunk of the tree, so as to give them a broad terrace to move about upon.
The poles were fast wattled together by rods of the beautiful weeping-willow (_Salix Babylonica_), which is a native of these parts, and several trees of which grew by the side of the vley. Upon the top of all, they laid a thick coating of clay, obtained from the edge of the lake; so that, if need be, they could actually kindle a fire, and cook their suppers in the tree.
To make a still finer flooring, they procured a quant.i.ty of the material of which the ant-hills are composed; which, being of a glutinous nature, makes a mortar almost as binding as Roman cement.
After the main building had been finished off, Swartboy erected a platform for himself, and one for Totty in another part of the ample nwana. Above each of these platforms he had constructed a roof or screen, to shelter their occupants from rain or dew.
There was something odd in the appearance of these two screens, each of which was about the size of an ordinary umbrella. Their oddity consisted in the fact that they were ears of the elephant!
CHAPTER XXV.
THE BATTLE OF THE WILD PEAc.o.c.kS.
There was no longer anything to hinder the field-cornet from commencing the real business of his new life, viz., the hunting of the elephant. He resolved, therefore, to begin at once; for until he should succeed in "bagging" a few of these giant animals, he was not easy in his mind. He might not be able to kill a single one; and then what would become of all his grand hopes and calculations? They would end in disappointment, and he should find himself in as bad a condition as ever.
Indeed worse: for to fail in any undertaking is not only to lose time, but energy of mind. Success begets genius, courage, and self-reliance--all of which contribute to new successes; while failure intimidates and leads to despair. In a psychological point of view it is a dangerous thing to fail in any undertaking; and, therefore, before undertaking anything, one should be well a.s.sured of its being possible and practicable.
Now Von Bloom was not sure that the great design he had formed was practicable. But in this case, he had no choice. No other means of livelihood was open to him just then; and he had resolved to make trial of this. He had faith in his calculations, and he had also good reason to hope he would succeed; but the thing was yet untried. No wonder he was in haste to begin the business--in haste to know what were his chances of success.
By early day, therefore, he was up and out. Hendrik and Swartboy only accompanied him, for he could not yet bring himself to leave the children with no other protection than Totty--almost as much a child as themselves. Hans, therefore, remained by the camp.
At first the hunters followed the little rivulet that ran from the spring and vley. They did so, because in this direction there was more "bush;" and they knew that elephants would be more likely to be found in woods than in open places. Indeed, it was only near the banks of the stream that any great quant.i.ty of wood was to be seen. A broad belt of jungle extended upon each side of it. After that, there were straggling groves and clumps; and then came the open plains, almost treeless, though covered with a rich carpet of gra.s.s for some distance farther. To this succeeded the wild karoo, stretching eastward and westward beyond the reach of vision. Along the north, as already mentioned, trended the line of "bluffs"; and beyond these there was nothing but the parched and waterless desert. To the south there lay the only thing that could be called "woods;" and although such a low jungle could lay no claim to the t.i.tle of "forest," it was, nevertheless, a likely enough haunt for elephants.
The trees consisted chiefly of mimosas--of several species, upon the leaves, roots, and tender shoots of which the great ruminant loves to browse. There were some "cameel-doorn" trees, with their shady umbrella-like tops. But above all rose the ma.s.sive heads of the nwanas, giving a peculiar character to the landscape.
The hunters noticed, as they went on, that the channel of the rivulet became wider and larger, and that at times--no doubt after great rains--a large quant.i.ty of water must have run in its bed, forming a considerable river. But as the channel grew larger, the reverse was the case with the quant.i.ty of running water. The farther down they proceeded this became less and less; until, at the distance of a mile from camp, the current ceased altogether.
For half-a-mile farther on they found water in stagnant pools, but none running. The wide, dry channel, however, continued on as before; and the "bush" extended on both sides without interruption, so thick that they could only make way by keeping in the channel itself.
As they walked along, several kinds of small game were started. Hendrik would gladly have taken a shot at some of these, but his father would not permit him to fire just then. It might frighten away the great "game" they were in search of, and which they might fall in with at any moment. On their return Hendrik might do his best; and then the field-cornet intended to a.s.sist him in procuring an antelope, as there was no fresh venison in the camp. This, however, was a consideration of secondary importance, and the first thing to be done was to try and get a pair of tusks.
There was no objection to Swartboy using his bow, as that silent weapon would cause no alarm. Swartboy had been taken along to carry the axe and other implements as well as to a.s.sist in the hunt. Of course he had brought his bow and quiver with him; and he was constantly on the watch for something at which to let fly one of his little poisoned arrows.
He found a mark at length worthy of his attention. On crossing the plain to avoid a large bend in the channel, they came upon a glade or opening of considerable size, and in the middle of this glade a huge bird appeared standing erect.
"An ostrich!" exclaimed Hendrik.
"No," replied Swartboy; "um ar da pauw."
"Yes," said Von Bloom, confirming Swartboy"s statement, "it is the pauw."
Now a "pauw" in the Dutch language is a "peac.o.c.k." But there are no peac.o.c.ks in Africa. The peac.o.c.k in its wild state inhabits only Southern Asia and the islands of the Indian Archipelago. The bird they saw, then, could not be a peac.o.c.k.
Neither was it one. And yet it bore some resemblance to a peac.o.c.k, with its long heavy tail and wings speckled and ocellated in a very striking manner, and something like the "marbled" feathers that adorn the peac.o.c.k"s back. It had none of the brilliant colours, however, of that proudest of birds, though it was quite as stately, and much larger and taller. In fact, its great height and erect att.i.tude was why Hendrik at first glance had taken it for an ostrich. It was neither peac.o.c.k nor ostrich, but belonging to a different genus from either--to the genus _Otis_ or bustard. It was the great bustard of South Africa--the _Otis kori_--called "pauw" by the Dutch colonists, on account of its ocellated plumage and other points of resemblance to the Indian peac.o.c.k.
Now Swartboy, as well as Von Bloom, knew that the pauw was one of the most delicious of fowls for the table. But they knew at the same time that it was one of the shyest of birds,--so shy that it is very difficult to get even a long shot at one. How, then, was it to be approached within range of the Bushman"s arrow? That was the point to be considered.
Where it stood, it was full two hundred yards from them; and had it perceived them, it would soon have widened that distance, by running off two hundred more. I say running off, for birds of the bustard family rarely take to wing, but use their long legs to escape from an enemy. On this account they are often hunted by dogs, and caught after a severe chase. Although but poor flyers, they are splendid runners,--swift almost as the ostrich itself.
The pauw, however, had not observed the hunters as yet. They had caught a glimpse of it, before appearing out of the bushes, and had halted as soon as they saw it.
How was Swartboy to approach it? It was two hundred yards from any cover, and the ground was as clean as a new-raked meadow. True, the plain was not a large one. Indeed, Swartboy was rather surprised to see a pauw upon so small a one, for these birds frequent only the wide open karoos, where they can sight their enemy at a great distance. The glade was not large, but, after watching the bustard for some minutes, the hunters saw that it was resolved to keep near the centre, and showed no disposition to feed in the direction of the thicket on either side.
Any one but a Bushman would have despaired of getting a shot at this kori; but Swartboy did not despair.
Begging the others to remain quiet, he crept forward to the edge of the jungle, and placed himself behind a thick leafy bush. He then commenced uttering a call, exactly similar to that made by the male of the kori when challenging an adversary to combat.
Like the grouse, the bustard is polygamous, and of course terribly jealous and pugnacious, at certain seasons of the year. Swartboy knew that it was just then the "fighting season" among the pauws, and hoped by imitating their challenge to draw the bird--a c.o.c.k he saw it was--within reach of his arrow.
As soon as the kori heard the call, he raised himself to his full height, spread his immense tail, dropped his wings until the primary feathers trailed along the gra.s.s, and replied to the challenge.
But what now astonished Swartboy was, that instead of one answer to his call, he fancied he heard two, simultaneously uttered!
It proved to be no fancy, for before he could repeat the decoy the bird again gave out its note of defiance, and was answered by a similar call from another quarter!
Swartboy looked in the direction whence came the latter; and there sure enough, was a second kori, that seemed to have dropped from the region of the clouds, or, more likely, had run out from the shelter of the bushes. At all events, it was a good way towards the centre of the plain, before the hunter had observed it.