The next day,25th April,operations continued without interruption.The angles which the baobab station made with the two ends of the base marked out by the pylons were carefully measured.This new result allowed them to verify the first triangle.Then two other stations were chosen to right and left of the meridian,one formed by a small rising in the ground,quite visible on the plain six miles away,the other staked out by a pylon about seven miles off.
Thus the triangulation proceeded for about a month without hindrance.By 15th May the observers had reached a degree northward,after laying out seven triangles.
Colonel Everest and Matthew Strux had been rarely brought together during this first series of operations.The original assignment of the work,and even the checking of the measurements afterwards,kept the two savants at a distance.During the day they worked at stations several miles apart,and this was a guarantee against any display of amour propre.When evening came each returned to camp and regained his own especial habitation.A few disputes took place,it is true,over the choice of stations,which had to be settled communally,but they led to no serious altercation.Zorn and Emery might,therefore,hope that,thanks to this separation of the two rivals,their operations might continue without any deplorable outbreak.
On 15th May the observers were a degree to the north of the southern point of the meridian,and found themselves in the lattitude of Lattakou:that African town was thirty-five miles east of the their station.
Here a vast kraal had recently been built.It was a good place for a halt,Sir John Murray pointed out,and it was arranged that the expedition should rest for some days.William Emery and Zorn were to make use of this halt to take the sun’s altitude,while Nicolas Palander occupied himself in reducing all the measurements taken,so as to bring them all down to sea-level.As for Sir John Murray,his object was to relax his mind from his scientific work by studying,rifle in hand,the local fauna.
The natives of South Africa call a kraal a sort of movable village,which can be moved bodily from one pasturage to another.It consists of about thirty habitations,with a population of several hundred.
The Kraal which the Anglo-Russian expedition had reached was composed of a number of huts arranged in a circle on the banks of a tributary of the Kuruman.These huts were made of mats of plaited rushes stretched on wooden frames,and were quite water-tight;they much resembled flattened bee-hives,whose entrance,enclosed by a skin,forced its inhabitant or his visitor to crawl in and out on his hands and knees.This was the only escape for the clouds of acrid smoke from the fire,which must make these huts impossible for any one but a Boschjesman or a Hottentot.
When the caravan arrived,the whole population was astir.The watch-dogs who guarded each cabin barked furiously,and the warriors,armed with assegais,knives and clubs,and protected by leather shields,advanced.They may have numbered about two hundred—this showed the importance of the kraal,which must have included from sixty to eighty huts,surrounded by a palisade fence,it was further protected by the thorny branches,five and six feet long,of the American aloe;this was proof against the attacks of beast of prey.
As soon as Mokoum had said a few words to one of the chiefs,however,the warlike demonstrations of the natives were laid aside and the caravan obtained permission to encamp near the palisades on the same side of the stream.Nor did the Boschjesmen refuse them a share of the pasturage,which extended several miles in every direction.The expedition’s horses,oxen,and other animals might graze at will without giving any offence to the nomad town.
Accordingly,under the bushman’s direction,the camp was organised as usual;the wagons were drawn up in a circle,and each man set about his own share of the work.
Then Sir John Murray,leaving his companions to their calculations and their scientific observations,set out without losing an hour in company with Mokoum.The Englishman rode his own horse,and Mokoum his tame zebra;three dogs followed them.They took rifles firing explosive bullets,and this showed their intention of beating the covers for wild beasts.
The hunters rode in a north-easterly direction towards a wooded region,several miles distance from the kraal,and they chatted as they rode along.
‘I hope,Master Mokoum,’cried Sir John Murray,‘you mean to keep the promise you made me at the Morgheda Falls,to take me into the finest game country in the world.But understand that I did not come to South Africa to shoot hares and hunt foxes.We have them in abundance in the Scottish Highlands.In less than hour I want to have brought down……’
‘In less than an hour,Sir John!’replied the bushman;‘you must allow me to say you’re going a little too fast,and the first thing is to be patient.I’m patient only when I’m hunting,and then I make up for all the other occasions when I’m impatient.You cannot be unaware,Sir John,that hunting large animals is a science which must be learned in the actual country.You must learn the animals’habits-study their going and coming,then follow them up for hours together,so as to approach them upwind.As you know,any unusual sound,any step in the wrong place,almost any look at the wrong moment,is to be avoided.I have spent whole days watching a buffalo or a gemsbok,and when,after six-and-thirty hours spent in patience and cunning,I have brought the animal down,I felt I hadn’t wasted the time.’
‘Very good,my friend,’replied Sir John Murray;‘I’ll be as patient as you can possibly wish;but we mustn’t forget that this halt won’t be for more than three or four days,and we haven’t an hour nor even a minute to spare.’
‘That’s a consideration,’replied the bushman in so calm a tone that William Emery would hardly have recognised him—‘that’s a consideration.We’ll shoot whatever comes before us.Sir John—antelopes,fallow deer,gnus,or gazelles—everything is good enough for hunters in such a hurry!’
‘Antelopes and gazelles!’cried Sir John Murray;‘I hardly ask for so much for a first day on African ground.But what were you hoping to offer me,my brave bushman?’
The huntsman looked at his companion rather strangely,and then said in an ironical tone—‘The moment you say you’re satisfied,I’ll have nothing more to say.I thought you wouldn’t be contented with anything short of a brace of rhinoceros,or a couple of elephants.’
‘Hunter,’Sir John Murray assured him,‘I’ll follow you wherever you lead me;I’ll shoot whatever you tell me to shoot;so now,forward,and don’t let us waste any more time in idle words.’
The horses broke into a canter,and the two hunters advanced rapidly towards the forest.
The plain they were crossing rose gradually towards the northeast.It was studded here and there with innumerable bushes then in full bloom,whence exuded a sticky,transparent,resinous fluid,very highly scented,of which the colonists make a balm for wounds.Nwanas,or sycamore fig trees,grew in picturesque clumps,with their trunks,bare for thirty or forty feet,spreading out like great green parasols;among the branches numerous parrots were chattering and pecking the acid figs of the sycamores.
Farther on they reached mimosas with their yellow branches,‘silver trees’waving their silky tufts,aloes with their long red thorns,looking like branches of coral from the bottom of the sea.The soil,enamelled with the blueleaved amaryllis,facilitated the rapid progress of the horses.
In less than an hour after they had left the kraal,Sir John Murray and Mokoum reached the edge of the forest,a lofty growth of acacias,which extended over a space of several square miles.These countless trees,growing without any order,interlaced their branches,and allowed not a ray of the sun to reach the ground,encumbered as it was with thorns and long grass.But Mokoum’s zebra and Sir John’s horse did not hesitate to venture under this overhanging arch,and picked their way through the tree-trunks.A few wide clearings were found,and the hunters occasionally halted to observe the surrounding undergrowth.
This first day did not favour Sir John.His companion and he had vainly traversed much of the forest.Not one specimen of the African fauna had put itself out to oblige them,and Sir John’s thoughts had wandered more than once back to his Scottish deer forests and moors,where he would not have waited so long for a shot.It might be the vicinity of the kraal which had made the suspicious animals move farther off.As for Mokoum,he betrayed neither surprise nor disgust.For him this was not hunting,but a mere ride through a forest.
About six in the evening,it was time to think or returning to camp.Without waiting to admit it,Sir John Murray was greatly vexed at the idea of returning empty-handed.He decided to shoot the very first animal,bird or beast,game or wild,which came within range of his rifle.
Fate seemed to favour him.The two hunters were not more than three miles from the kraal when an animal of that African species described as lepus rupestris—a hare,in fact—darted out of a bush about a hundred and fifty yards from Sir John.Sir John did not hesitate,but fired at the inoffensive creature.
The bushman gave a grunt of indignation.Waste a bullet on a hare,which one could knock over with No.6 shot!But the English sportsman wanted his hare,and he galloped up to the spot where he expected to find it.
Strange to say,there was no hare to be seen—a little blood on the ground,but nothing else.Sir John looked round,the dogs quested among the bushes;they could find nothing.
‘I’m certain I hit it!’cried Sir John.
‘You hit it too hard,’the bushman told him quietly;‘if you will shoot hares with explosive bullets,you mustn’t be surprised if you can’t find them.’
The hare had,in fact,been blown to atoms!Sir John,in disgust,remounted his horse,and rode back to camp without another word.
The next day the bushman expected Sir John Murray to suggest going hunting again;but the Englishman,whose amour propre was sorely wounded,kept out his way.He seemed to have forgotten his hunting projects,and passed his time making observations.Then,by way of relaxation,he visited the Boschjesmen’s kraal,watching the men handling the bow or playing on the gorah,an instrument made by stretching a piece of catgut on a bow,and blowing across it through an ostrich feather;and the women,attending to their household duties,or smoking matokoseane,the unwholesome hemp plant-a habit of most natives.According to certain travellers’observations,inhaling hemp increases physical strength,to the detriment of moral energy,and many of these Boschjesmen seemed in a state of stupid intoxication from its use.
The next day,17th May,Sir John Murray was awakened at dawn by a few words in his ear:‘I think,your honour,we’ll be more lucky today;but we must shoot no more hares with mountain howitzers.’
Sir John Murray was not daunted by this ironical suggestion,and he announced his readiness to start.The two hunters had got several miles to the left of the encampment before their companions were awake.This time Sir John carried a smooth-bore,more convenient for shooting deer or antelopes than that terrible rifle.It is true that pachyderms and carnivores might sometimes be met with on these plains;but he had not forgotten how he had blown the hare to pieces,and he would have preferred firing small shot at a lion than repeating this feat,unprecedented in the annals of sport.
That day,as Mokoum expected,fortune favoured the two hunters.They shot a couple of harrisboks or black antelopes—very scarce,and difficult to kill.These charming beasts are about twelve hands high,with long diverging horn,elegantly rounding inwards like the sabre blade;their muzzle is narrow and compressed laterally;they have black hooves,hair close and soft,and pointed ears;the belly and face,which are as white as snow,form a striking contrast with the black fur of their backs,along which runs a line of long hair as far as the shoulder.
Hunters might well be proud of shooting them,for they have always been coveted,and they are one of the most admired specimens of the African fauna.
But what made the Englishman’s heart beat were certain tracks which the bushman pointed out on the edge of a thick scrub,no great distance from a deep pool,surrounded by gigantic euphorbia,and its surface almost concealed by the blue-white flower of the water-lily.
‘Sir,’said Mokoum,‘if you will come and lie hidden here at daybreak tomorrow,I should recommend you not to leave your rifle at home this time.’
‘What makes you say that,Mokoum?’asked Sir John Murray.
‘Those fresh footprints you can see there on the soft ground.’
‘What!Those large marks the impressions of an animal’s foot?Why,they must be nearly three feet round.’
‘Which only proves that the animal which made them must be nine feet high at the shoulder,’replied the bushman.
‘An elephant!’exclaimed Sir John.
‘Yes,your honour;and if I’m not mistaken,an adult male.’
‘Tomorrow morning,then,Mokoum.’
‘Tomorrow morning,Sir John.’
The two hunters returned to camp,taking with them the harrisboks laid across Sir John Murray’s horse.These beautiful animals,so seldom shot,were admired by every one in the caravan.They all congratulated Sir John,except,perhaps,the serious Matthew Strux,whose knowledge of animals was confined to the Great Bear,the Dragon,the Centaur,Pegasus and other constellations belonging to the celestial fauna.
The next morning,at four,the two companions,sitting motionless on their horse,with their dogs beside them,were waiting in the middle of a thick growth of underwood for the arrival of a troop of elephants.By footmarks made since the day before,they had found that the elephants came in a herd to drink at the pool,and they were armed with rifles carrying explosive bullets.
They had been silently watching the thicket for about half-anhour when they saw the dark mass of foliage start moving about fifty paces from the pool.Sir John Murray grasped his rifle,but the bushman made him signs to moderate his impatience.
Soon several great shadows appeared.They could hear the cover give way under the weight of the animals;the broken branches crackled under their feet,while their snorting and breathing could be distinctly heard.Half-a-dozen elephants,almost as large as their Indian fellows,stepped slowly forward to the pool.
As it became lighter Sir John could observe these powerful creatures;one of them,a bull elephant,particularly attracted his attention.Its wide round forehead was conspicuous between its large ears,which hung down to its chest;its colossal size seemed still greater in the half-light of the morning.This elephant raised its trunk above the bushes,and struck the trunks of the trees several times with its tusks:possibly it scented danger.
The bushman whispered in Sir John’s ear:‘That one suit you?’
Sir John nodded.
‘All right then;we’ll try and get him away from the rest of the herd.’
By this time the elephants were close to the pool,their spongy feet sinking into the soft mud.They poured the water from their trunks noisily down their throats;but the large bull elephant was uneasy,and looked round very suspiciously from time to time.
Suddenly the bushman gave a peculiar cry;his three dogs at once gave tongue and bounded from the thicket towards the animals,the bushman jumped his zebra over the bushes,so as to cut off the bull-elephant’s retreat.
But the animal was by no means disposed to fly.Sir John watched it with his finger on the trigger.The elephant struck the branches repeatedly with its trunk,and moved its tail excitedly,but it was more angry than frightened.As yet it had not felt the presence of its enemy.
At that moment it saw him,and charged at him through the bushes.Sir John Murray was then about sixty yards from the animal.He waited till it was within forty,then,aiming at its flank,he fired.But a movement of his horse affected his aim,and the ball only buried itself in the flesh,without striking a bone which would make it explode.
The furious beast rushed forward,and Sir John’s horse reared and bolted out of the thicket;the elephant pursued him,pricking up its ears and trumpeting to its mates.The hunter,while his horse was at full gallop,tried to load his breech-loader.
The elephant,however,was gaining upon him and soon they were both out on the open plain beyond the woods.Sir John slashed at the horse with his spurs,while two of his dogs,barking at its heels,were almost mad with fear.The elephant was not more than a couple of lengths behind and Sir John could almost feel its breath;every moment he expected to be dragged from his saddle by the animal’s trunk.
The horse’s hind-quarters suddenly sank under him;the trunk of the elephant had struck it.The horse gave a whinny of pain and leapt aside,and this leap saved Sir John’s life.The elephant could not stop at once,but shot on past the horse and its rider,picking up one of the dogs and shaking it with considerable violence.Now Sir John’s only resource was to get back under cover and his horse’s instinct seemed to tell it this also,for it cleared the edge of the wood with a marvellous bound.The elephant,as soon as it could stop itself,turned back to the cover,and dashed the dog against a sycamore as it passed.The horse disappeared in the thickest part of the underwood,and then stopped.
Sir John,scratched and bloodstained,had not,however,lost his coolness;he turned in his saddle,and,bringing his rifle up,he carefully aimed behind the elephant’s shoulder,and fired through the creepers.The bullet touched a bone,and exploded.The animal staggered,and almost at the same moment a bullet from the edge of the wood hit it in the left flank.It fell on its knees near a small pond almost overgrown with weeds,and began,pumping water over its wounds with its trunk,uttering plaintive cries at the same time.
Just then the bushman appeared.‘He’s ours,’cried Mokoum.
He was right;the enormous beast was mortally wounded.It groaned piteously,and they could hear the air issuing from the wound in its chest.It moved its tail and trunk faintly,and spurted a crimson shower over the leaves of the bushes near by;then its strength failed and it fell over on its side,dead.
Sir John Murray forced his way out of the thorny underwood.He was half-naked;his hunting-clothes hung about him in rags.But he was recompensed in his triumph as a sportsman.
‘A splendid animal,bushman,’he was examing the elephant’s carcase—‘a splendid animal,but rather too heavy to bag.’
‘Yes,Sir John,’replied Mokoum;‘we must cut him up on the spot and carry off the best bits.See what splendid tusks Nature has provided him with!They must weigh at least five and twenty pounds each,and when ivory is worth five shillings a pound,that amounts to something worth having.’
While he was talking the hunter had begun cutting the animal up.He hewed off the tusks with his hatchet,and took only the trunk and the feet with him to feast the members of the scientific commission.This operation occupied some time,and he and his companion did not reach the camp before noon.
There the bushman cooked the feet in African fashion,by burying them in a hole which had been previously converted into an oven by filling it with glowing charcoal.
No need to add that the dish was fully appreciated,even by the heedless Palander,and that it won for Sir John the compliments of every member of the commission.
