"The man will never kill the great brute with that thing," said Hendrik.
"He will be far more likely to kill himself, or some of those around him. If the elephant waits till it is despatched in that way, it stands a good chance to die of starvation."
The chief seemed very vain of being the owner of a gun, and anxious to show to his subjects the proper mode of despatching an elephant.
Standing about twenty-five paces from the pit, he took aim at the animal"s head and fired.
The report of the musket was followed by a roar more expressive of rage than pain, and a small protuberance on the elephant"s head showed that the ball had done no more than to cause a slight abrasion of the skin.
The operation of reloading the musket was performed in about six minutes and again the chief fired. This time, standing at the distance of fifteen paces. The elephant again astonished the chief and his followers, by continuing to live.
Another six or seven minutes were pa.s.sed in loading the gun, which was again fired as before. The only acknowledgment the huge beast made of having received the shot, was another loud cry of impotent rage.
The company around the pit was then joined by a party not hitherto on the ground. It consisted of Hans with Swartboy and the other followers of the expedition. They had extracted the tusks of their elephant, lashed them with rheims to the pack-saddles of two horses, and brought them along.
"What is all this about?" asked Hans. "Can"t you kill that elephant?
I"ve heard several shots."
"They will not allow us to try," replied Groot Willem. "A chief is trying to kill it with an old musket, and will neither allow me to fire, nor that well-armed gentleman standing near him." Willem pointed to him who carried the gun without a lock.
At this moment, a communication was made to the Kaffir by the native chief. Annoyed at his want of success, he had some doubts as to his weapon being what had been represented by the smouse from whom he had purchased it. He wished to make a comparison of its destructive power with one of their guns, and Groot Willem was invited to take a shot at the elephant.
"But, baas Willem," said Congo, as he finished this communication, "you not do that, you not shoot the elephant."
"Why?" asked Willem, in surprise.
"You kill um with you roer, and then they want from you. They want it, and sure take it."
"Take what--the elephant?"
"No, baas Willem, the roer," answered the Kaffir.
Though not afraid of having his gun taken from him, Groot Willem and his companions were unwilling to have any difficulty with the blacks; and the invitation of the chief was courteously declined. The excuse made was that, after the failure of the great man himself, any similar attempts on their part would certainly be unsuccessful.
A general invitation was now given to the company to join in despatching the elephant; and it was immediately a.s.sailed by more than a dozen men armed with a.s.segais and javelins. They succeeded in killing it in a little less than half an hour; and, during that time, the torture to which the poor beast was subjected aroused the indignation of our adventurers, who, if allowed, could have released it from its agonies in half a score of seconds. They were true hunters, and, although not sparing of animal life, they took no delight in its tortures.
CHAPTER FORTY FIVE.
ON THE KARROO.
After killing the elephant, the natives commenced the less difficult task of cutting it up and carrying it off to their kraal. The feet were reserved for the especial use of the chief; and, while waiting for some of his dependents to procure them, he granted our hunters an audience.
They were desirous to learn whether the kraal was ever visited by traders,--a cla.s.s of people they were anxious to meet, though Groot Willem was more anxious to know whether giraffes ever visited the neighbourhood. Congo was called, and for some time he and the chief were heard talking in loud tones, and both at the same time; neither exhibiting the least inclination to listen to one another! Their voices grew louder and louder; and our adventurers saw that they were engaged in a hot dispute, that threatened to end in something more unpleasant than a war of words.
"What does he say, Congo," asked Willem.
"I don"t know, baas Willem," answered the Kaffir with a shake of the head, that betrayed some shame at his own ignorance.
"How is that?" demanded his master. "Can"t you understand the language he speaks?"
"No, baas Willem, he talks no Zooloo, no Kaffir of any kind."
"Then why were you pretending to interpret his language a few minutes ago?" asked Hendrik.
"I was trying to learn it," answered Congo, in a tone conveying the belief that he had given a satisfactory answer.
"We have no time to stop here for you to learn a language," said Hendrik. "And if you can"t converse with the man why did you not say so? How came you to tell us what he was saying a few minutes ago?"
The attention of all was now called to Swartboy, who seemed overpowered with joy.
It was some time before he was able to make himself understood; but at last he was heard to mutter:--
"I tole you that Congo was a ole fool. Now you all see for yourselfs.
Look at "im! Don"t he look four, five, six times fool. I tole ye so."
"Can _you_ understand what the chief says?" asked Groot Willem.
"Yaas, baas Willem; any Swartman know dat."
"Then talk to him yourself. You know what we wish to learn from him."
The Bushman"s features now a.s.sumed a quizzically comical expression; and from this the hunters saw that he had become serious.
Going up to the chief he commenced a conversation, from which Willem learned, after it was translated to him, that no giraffes had been seen in the neighbourhood for many moons. Very few traders visited the tribe; and those who had done so had not left a good name behind them.
The chief lived in the kraal seen not far away; and the hunters were invited to pay him a visit.
This invitation was immediately accepted by Willem, who seemed to have lost all desire to return to Graaf Reinet again.
This attempt on the part of Willem to delay their homeward journey was easily defeated by Hendrik.
"Why should we go to their kraal?" asked he. "We shouldn"t be allowed to leave it for two or three days, and we want to go on in search of giraffes. There are none here."
With this argument Willem was well pleased; and they prepared to continue their journey.
Before making a move, they saw most of the elephant"s flesh taken away by the Bechuanas. Three oxen were laden with it, and several of the natives staggered under heavy loads,--covered from head to foot with long strips cut from the animal"s sides. Some of the blacks carried large square flakes of the flesh with their heads thrust through a hole cut in the centre,--the broad disk descending over the shoulders like the skirts of a Mexican"s _serape_.
The sight of these people apparently clothed with bleeding flesh, and staggering under its weight towards their homes, was, as Hendrik observed, an "antidote against hunger, effectual for at least a month."
After taking leave of the tribe, our travellers continued on towards the south. It was quite dark before they arrived at a suitable camping-place. They had met with no water since leaving the pools pa.s.sed in the morning, and the cattle were sadly in want of it.
Unable to make much progress in the darkness that came thickly over them, the animals--both oxen and horses--were unladen and a halt was made, with the intention of resuming the march at the first dawn of day.
By early morning they were on the move, anxious to reach water as soon as possible.
For several miles they journeyed over a tract of ground, the surface of which resembled that of the ocean lashed by a storm. It was a constantly recurring series of abrupt undulations, like huge billows and the troughs between them.
Now for the first time they noticed the great difference that thirst produces between horses and cow cattle. The latter seemed to think that they could obtain relief by quietly yielding to the enervating effect of thirst, and travelling as slowly as their drivers would permit them.
They were urged forward with much difficulty, and the Makololo were constantly wielding their huge _jamboks_ to induce them to go quicker.
With a rolling gait they crawled unwillingly forward, their tongues protruding from their mouths, each offering as perfect a picture of despair as could well be imagined.
The horses on the contrary seemed eager to get over the ground as quickly as possible. They appeared to act under the guidance of reason, as if knowing that they were still far from the wished-for water, and that the faster they travelled the sooner it would be reached.