“We have been very fortunate,” remarked Groot Willem, “in not encamping by the poisoned water ourselves. Had we done so, we would all, by this time, have been food for the jackals and hyenas, as these antelopes now are.”
To this unqualified surmise, Congo did not wholly give his assent. He believed that men would not be likely to drink a sufficient quantity of the water to cause death; though he further stated that their cattle and horses, had they quenched their thirst at the pond, would have been killed to a certainty.
For the sake of procuring three or four antelopes for food, with the least trouble, the Bechuanas had destroyed a whole herd. This is the usual economy practised by those who live in a land teeming with a too great abundance of animal life.
To get away from the sickening scene thus presented to their view, even Groot Willem was willing to continue the journey; and it was resumed, all being thankful that the distance accomplished on the day before had not been so long, by a mile or two, as it might have been.
Knowing that they were in the neighbourhood of Bechuanas, the Makololo professed some fear for their cattle. They said that these might be stolen or taken from them by force. But the hunters believed such fears too flattering to the Bechuana character. From all they had heard of the people composing that numerous nation, they were under the impression that they were too cowardly and indolent to be regarded with any apprehension.
The next morning, when continuing their journey, Arend, who was riding a little in advance, suddenly reined up, at the same time, calling out—
“I see a kraal and a field of maize.”
Groot Willem and Hendrik rode forward, and became convinced that Arend was in the right. Almost at the same instant, the hunter descried other objects in which he was more interested than in a village of Bechuanas, or anything belonging to them. Two large elephants were seen moving across the plain, in the direction of the maize-field.
“Let us steal upon them silently,” suggested Willem. “We need not all go. Two or three will be enough. Some one must stay with the cattle.”
Saying this, he rode off, followed by Hendrik and Arend.
Hans assented to stay behind, attended by Swartboy; and Congo, with the assistance of the Makololo, halted the cattle and pack-horses; thus tarrying, they were witnesses of what they expected to prove an interesting scene. They saw nothing to prevent the stalkers from obtaining a fine opportunity for a shot; and they knew that a wounded elephant seldom seeks safety in flight. One or both of the animals would be killed; and the violent death of an elephant is, under all circumstances, a spectacle painfully interesting.
“But for us,” said Groot Willem, as he rode by the side of Hendrik, “those elephants would destroy that field of maize. The owners of the field could not prevent them, if they were to try. They cannot even frighten them away from their work of devastation.”
The young hunter was soon to be undeceived.
Chapter Forty Three.
Excitement for all.
The two elephants were moving along what seemed to be a narrow path leading to the maize-field, or the kraal beyond it. They were in no great haste, but going as though conscious that a favourite article of food was near, and that they were pretty sure of obtaining it.
“When once they get engaged upon the corn,” said Hendrik, “they are ours. They won’t notice us, and we shall have an opportunity for getting a good shot.”
Suddenly one of the elephants—the foremost one—was seen to sink into the earth! The other stopped for a moment, as though endeavouring to comprehend the cause of his companion’s disappearance. It then turned round and commenced carefully treading the back track.
“A pit,” exclaimed Hendrik. “One of the elephants has gone down into a pit.”
“On, on! let us kill the other,” shouted Groot Willem, as he urged his gigantic horse into a gallop. Hendrik and Arend galloped after.
The retreating elephant was apparently in no haste to get out of their way, but moved leisurely along.
When the three youths were within a hundred yards of it, uttering a trumpet-like sound, it turned and charged toward them. Expecting something of the kind, they were not unprepared. Groot Willem instantly brought the roer to his shoulder and fired.
The loud report of the gun was accompanied by the sharp cracks of the two rifles carried by his companions. Hendrik and Arend wheeled their horses to the right; Willem turned to the left, and the huge monster rushed between them.
For a moment it stopped, as if undecided which to pursue first. Had the three gone in the same direction, there probably would not have been an instant’s hesitation, and one of them would have risked being overtaken. That moment of indecision gave them time for forming a plan, and gaining a start upon their pursuer.
“The pit! the pit!” shouted Hendrik. “Ride for the pit!”
His command was instantly obeyed.
The elephant turned, and, observing the direction of their retreat, continued to pursue them; but in a slow, leisurely way, as though not wholly decided whether to follow them or not. At that instant was heard a loud prolonged bellowing,—the voice of an elephant in the agony of despair. It proceeded from the pit.
The pursuer instantly came to a stand. The cry of its companion in distress awoke a feeling more human than that of revenge. It was fear,—a fear that seemed to control its power of reasoning, since it immediately turned tail and retreated from the danger that had befallen its friend. While making its retreat, it appeared to choose the tracks made by the horses in approaching the spot; as though instinct admonished it that by so doing it would avoid any pitfalls that might be constructed on the plain.
“After him! Follow him up,” cried Arend. “Hans is in danger.”
Only a short while was spent in reloading their guns; then, urging their horses to the greatest speed, they galloped after the elephant.
Hans and his dusky companions had not been uninterested spectators of the actions of the others, and now saw that they would soon be called upon to become actors in a similar scene. The elephant was rushing rapidly down upon them, but the thought of flight only arose in their minds to be immediately dismissed. The pack-horses must be defended at all cost; and the young botanist, bidding Swartboy and Congo look after them, rode out in front to meet the advancing foe.
He was mounted on a horse that would not stand quiet for two seconds at a time; and as his life might depend on the correctness of his aim, he dismounted for the purpose of firing. His horse, released, galloped away from his side. The wounded elephant was not more than fifty paces off, and now turned in pursuit of the horse, apparently without seeing the enemy it should have feared most.
This was the opportunity for Hans, and he did not allow it to escape him. Steadily raising the gun to his shoulder, he aimed at the huge creature, just behind its fore leg, as the latter was thrown forward in the stride. On shambled the enraged monster with a deafening roar.
The other horses had already broken from the control of their keepers, and were galloping in different directions. A few long stretches and the tusks of the elephant were close upon Congo’s steed, which chanced to be crossing the line of pursuit at right angles. In another instant the horse was tossed into the air, and, passing six or eight feet high above the monster’s back, fell heavily upon the ground behind it. But the Kaffir had slid out of the saddle and stood upon the ground unharmed.
The effort made in destroying the horse was the last the wounded elephant was able to perform. The dogs were clustering upon its heels; and as it reeled wildly about to get at them, it seemed to grow giddy, and at length fell heavily along the earth.
“I do believe,” said Hendrik, who at this moment rode up along with Willem and Arend,—“yes, I’m quite certain that the dogs think they have dragged that elephant down!”
“Den they is as big an ole fool as Congo,” said Swartboy who was annoyed at the fact that the Kaffir had just performed a feat for which he would receive the approbation of his young masters. Congo only answered with a smile. He had again aroused the jealousy of his rival, and was satisfied.
The elephant, which proved to be a very large bull, expired a few minutes after falling. Its tusks were over five feet in length, and to Swartboy was given the task of extracting them.
The horse ridden by Congo was of course no longer available; and the lading of another had to be distributed amongst the remaining pack-horses, to provide the Kaffir with a mount. The spot was soon deserted.
Hendrik, Groot Willem, and Arend, were anxious to be off to the pit, into which the other elephant had fallen, having never seen one caught in that way before.
“Hans,” inquired Hendrik, “will you look after everything here, or will you come along with us?”
“O, I prefer staying,” said the quiet Hans. “Perhaps by doing so I may again come in for the lion’s share of the sport, as I have just now.”
“We must take Congo along with us,” suggested Arend. “It is certain there will be some of the natives at the pit. We saw several houses near the maize-field, and there is no doubt a large kraal.”
“Yes, come with us, Congo,” commanded his master, as he rode off, followed by all the others except the good-natured Hans and his servant Swartboy, who usually came in for the biggest share of the business, while the others appropriated the amusement.
Chapter Forty Four.
The Pit.
We believe there is a different sound expressed by each of the words, roar, shriek, yell, and scream: but the first expression of pain or terror of the elephant in the pit,—the sound that had caused its companion to retreat, seemed a combination of all the above. Since it first shook the surrounding atmosphere, it had been often repeated and the young hunters, familiar with most methods of killing elephants, were under the impression that the one in the pit was being subjected to some torture more horrible than any they had ever heard of.
“They have probably placed a pointed stake in the pit,” observed Hendrik, as they approached, “and the animal is impaled upon it.”
On coming nearer to the place, they saw that there were people around the pit,—both men and women. One of the men, intensely Ethiopic in appearance, came forward as the hunting party approached, and by signs offered for sale the tusks of the elephant still roaring underneath them.
“We are safe with these people,” remarked Congo. “They are used to traders, and will do us no more harm than to cheat us in a bargain, if they can.”
On arriving at the pit, our adventurers saw that it was not a square hole with an upright stake in the centre, as Hendrik had supposed. It was oval at the top and contracted to a point at the bottom, in the shape of an inverted cone, leaving no level space on which the elephant could stand. Its four feet were jammed together; and, compelled to support the weight of its immense body in this position, the agony it suffered must have been as intense as the creature was capable of enduring.
This pit, the plan of which was devised with devilish ingenuity for producing unnecessary torture, was about nine feet long and apparently seven or eight in depth, and the struggles of the elephant only had the effect of wedging its huge feet more closely together and increasing its tortures.
Two pits had been dug but a short distance from one another; and the wisdom of this plan had a living illustration before their eyes. Although the two had been nicely concealed, and the excavated earth carried away from the place, both had been discovered by the elephant, but one of them too late. Had there been but one, it would not have been caught, for it evidently had placed a foot on the first, detected the hidden danger, and, while in the act of avoiding it, had fallen suddenly and irrecoverably on to the other.
All the men standing around were armed, the most of them with assegais or spears, but they were making no attempt to end the agony of the captured elephant.
Groot Willem stepped in front of it, and was raising the long barrel of his roer to the level of one of the elephant’s eyes, when he was stopped by two or three of the blacks, who rushed forward and restrained him from discharging the piece.
Congo, who had professed to understand what they said, told Willem that the elephant was not to be killed at present.
“What can be the reason of that?” exclaimed Arend. “Can they wish the animal to live, merely for the sake of witnessing its sufferings? It cannot be saved. It must die where it is now.”
“I’ll tell you how it is,” said Hendrik. “They have a fine taste for music, and they intend keeping the elephant in that pit, like a bird in its cage, for the purpose of hearing the fine notes it is giving out.”
One of the blacks was armed with a gun, all but the lock, which last was wanting! The attention of Groot Willem was particularly directed to this weapon, its owner holding it out before him, and making signs that he wished some powder and a bullet for the purpose of loading it. Willem desired to be informed how the ammunition was to be used, but the black, by a shake of his woolly head, candidly admitted that he did not know.
“Ask him what he brought the gun here for,” said Willem, speaking to Congo.
In answer to the question, the man made another confession of ignorance.
A little excitement was now observed amongst the blacks, and another party was seen approaching from the direction of the village. They brought news that the head man of the kraal was coming in person, and that he was to have the honour of killing the elephant. He had lately purchased a new gun from some smouse or trader, and he was about to exhibit his skill in the use of it, before the eyes of his admiring subjects.
On the arrival of the chief, the young hunters saw that the gun in his possession was a common soldier’s musket, very much out of order, and one that a sportsman would hesitate about discharging.
“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.
