The Mission/Chapter XXVI

With the exception of three lions coming very near to the encampment and rousing up the Griquas, nothing occurred during the night. In the morning they yoked the oxen and had all the horses saddled ready for the chase; but they were disappointed for nearly the whole day; as, although they saw a variety of game, no giraffe appeared in sight. In the afternoon, as they passed by a clump of mimosas, they were charged by a rhinoceros, which nearly threw down Alexander’s best horse; but a volley from the Griquas laid him prostrate. It was a very large animal, but not of the black or ferocious sort, being what is termed the white rhinoceros. Within the last two days they had also observed that the gnoo was not of the same sort as the one which they had seen so long, but a variety which Swinton told them was called the brindled gnoo; it was, however, in every other respect the same animal, as to its motions and peculiarities. Towards the evening the Matabili warrior who accompanied them pointed to a mimosa at a distance, and made signs to the Major that there was a giraffe.

“I cannot see him—do you, Alexander?” said the Major; “he points to that mimosa with the dead stump on the other side of it, there. Yes, it is one, I see the stump, as I called it, move; it must be the neck of the animal. Let loose the dogs, Swanevelt,” cried the Major, starting off at full speed, and followed by Alexander, and Omrah with the spare horse. In a minute or two the giraffe was seen to get clear of the mimosa, and then set off in an awkward, shambling kind of gallop; but, awkward as the gallop appeared, the animal soon left the Major behind. It sailed along with incredible velocity, its long swan-like neck keeping time with its legs, and its black tail curled above its back.

“Push on, Alexander,” cried the Major; “if ever there were seven-league boots, that animal has a pair of them on. He goes like the wind; but he cannot keep it up long, depend upon it, and our horses are in capital condition.”

Alexander and the Major were now neck and neck, close to each other, at full speed, when of a sudden the Major’s horse stumbled, and fell upon an ostrich, which was sitting on her nest; Alexander’s horse also stumbled and followed after the Major; and there they were, horses and riders, all rolling together among the ostrich-eggs; while the ostrich gained her legs, and ran off as fast as the giraffe.

As soon as they had got on their legs again, and caught the bridles of their horses, they looked round, but could not distinguish the giraffe, which was out of sight among the mimosa-trees; while Omrah was very busy picking up their rifles, and laughing in a very disrespectful manner. The Major and Alexander soon joined in the laugh. No bones were broken, and the horses had received no injury. All they had to do was to return to the caravan, looking very foolish.

“Your first essay in giraffe-hunting has been very successful,” said Swinton, laughing, as they came up to him.

“Yes, we both threw very pretty summersets, did we not?” said Alexander. “However, we have got some ostrich-eggs for supper, and that is better than nothing. It will soon be dark, so we had better encamp for the night, had we not?”

“I was about to propose it,” said Swinton.

“Did you ever hunt the giraffe, Swinton?” inquired Alexander, as they were making their supper on roasted ostrich-eggs; each of them holding one between his knees, and dipping out with a large spoon.

“Never,” replied Swinton; “I have often seen them in Namaqua-land, but never killed one. I remember, however a circumstance connected with the giraffe, which would have been incredible to me, if I had not seen the remains of the lion. You are well aware how long and strong are the thorns of the mimosa (or kamel-tree, as the Dutch call it, from the giraffe browsing upon it), and how the boughs of these trees lie like an umbrella, close upon one another. A native chief informed me that he witnessed a lion attacking a giraffe. The lion always springs at the head or neck, and seizes the animal by that part, riding him, as it were. The giraffe sets off at full speed with its enemy, and is so powerful as often to get rid of him; for I have seen giraffes killed which had the marks of the lion’s teeth and claws upon them. In this instance the lion made a spring, but the giraffe at that very moment turning sharp round, the lion missed his aim, and by the blow it received was tossed in the air, so that he fell upon the boughs of the mimosa on his back. The boughs were not only compact enough to bear his weight, but the thorns that pierced through his body were so strong as to hold the enormous animal where he lay. He could not disengage himself; and they pointed out to me the skeleton on the boughs of the tree, as a corroboration of the truth of the story.”

“It does really approach to the marvellous,” observed the Major; “but, as you say, seeing is believing. I trust that we shall be more fortunate to-morrow.”

“I have gained a piece of information from Swanevelt,” said Swinton, “which makes me very anxious that we should leave this as soon as possible; which is, that the Matabili king had no idea that we had Griquas in our company, and still less that we were to come into his country with only the Griquas as attendants. You are not perhaps aware that Moselekatsee is the deadly enemy of the Griquas, with whom he has had several severe conflicts, and that we are not very safe on that account?”

“Why did not the Griquas say so?” replied Alexander.

“Because they do not care for the Matabili, and I presume are glad to come into the country, that they may know something of it, in case of their making an attack upon it. Depend upon it, as soon as the king hears of it, we shall be looked upon as spies, and he may send a party to cut us off.”

“Have you said anything to the Griquas?”

“Yes, and they laughed, and said that they should not care if we went right up to the principal town, where Moselekatsee resides.”

“Well, they are bold enough, and so far are good travelling companions; but we certainly did not come here to fight,” observed the Major. “But does the Matabili with us know that they are Griquas?”

“He did not; he supposed that they were Cape people whom we had brought with us; but he has found it out by the Hottentots, I suppose. Swanevelt says, that the very first body of Matabili that we fell in with, he sent a runner off immediately, I presume to give the information. I think, therefore, that the sooner we can get away the better.”

“Well, I agree with you, Swinton,” replied Alexander. “We will try for the giraffe to-morrow, and when the Major has had the satisfaction of killing one, we will retrace our steps for should we be attacked, it will be impossible to defend ourselves long against numbers. So now to bed.”

They rose early the next morning, and, leaving the waggon where it was, again proceeded on horseback in search of the giraffes. They rode at a slow space for four or five miles, before they could discover any. At last a herd of them were seen standing together browsing on the leaves of the mimosa. They made a long circuit to turn them, and drive them towards the camp, and in this they succeeded. The animals set off at their usual rapid pace, but did not keep it up long, as there were several not full-grown among them, which could not get over the ground so fast as the large male of the preceding day. After a chase of three miles, they found that the animals’ speed was rapidly decreasing, and they were coming up with them. When within a hundred yards, Alexander fired, and wounded a female which was in the rear. The Major pushed on with the dogs after a large male, and it stopped at bay under a mimosa, kicking most furiously at the dogs. The Major levelled his rifle, and brought the animal down with his first shot. It rose again, however, and for a hundred yards went away at a fast pace; but it again fell, to rise no more. The female which Alexander had wounded received another shot, and was then also prostrated.

“I have killed a giraffe,” said the Major, standing by the side of the one he had killed. “It has been a long way to travel, and there have been some dangers to encounter for the sake of performing this feat; but we have all our follies, and are eager in the pursuit of just as great trifles through life; so that in this I am not perhaps more foolish than the rest of mankind. I have obtained my wishes—I have killed a giraffe; and now I don’t care how soon we go back again.”

“Nor I,” replied Alexander; “for I can say with you, when we arrive in England, I too have killed a giraffe; so you will not be able to boast over me. By Swinton’s account, if we stay here much longer, we shall have to kill Matabili, which I am not anxious to do; therefore, I now say with you, I don’t care how soon we go back to the Cape.”

As they were not more than two miles from the waggon, they rode back, and sent the Griquas to bring in the flesh of the animals; Swinton not caring about the skins, as he had already procured some in Namaqua-land, and the weight of them would be so very great for the waggon. On their return, they had some conversation with the Griquas, who candidly acknowledged that it was very likely that the Matabili king would attempt to cut them off; although they appeared not at all afraid of his making the attempt. They, however, readily consented to return the next morning. That night, a messenger arrived to the Matabili chief who was escorting them. What was the communication of course our travellers could not tell; but their suspicions were confirmed by the behaviour of the man. When he found that, on the following morning, they yoked the oxen and retraced their steps, he begged them not to go, but to advance into the interior of the country, where they would find plenty of game; told them that the king would be very angry if they left so soon; and if he did not see them, his heart would be very sad. But our travellers had made up their mind, and travelled back during the whole of that day. The Matabili despatched the messenger who had come to him, and who again set off at all speed; at night he urged our travellers not to go back, saying that the king would be very angry with him. But as the Griquas were now equally convinced that treachery was intended, they paid no attention to the Matabili chief, and continued their route, shooting elands by the way for their sustenance. Late in the evening of the third day they found themselves on the borders of the Vaal River. It was still two hours before dark, and as the Matabili pressed them to encamp where they were, they were satisfied that they had better not, and therefore they forded the river, and rejoined the caravan, under charge of Bremen, just as night closed in.

The Griquas said, that from the Matabili wishing them to remain on the other side of the river, they were persuaded that a force would arrive during that night or the following morning, and that it would be necessary to be on the look-out; although probably the enemy would not venture to attack them without further orders, now that they were no longer in Moselekatsee’s dominions. Every preparation was therefore made: the Griquas and Hottentots were all supplied with ammunition, and mustered with their guns in their hands. The waggons were arranged, the fires lighted, and four men were posted as sentinels round the encampment. What added still more to their suspicions was, that, about an hour after dark, the Matabili chief was not to be found.

“My opinion is,” said the Major, “that we ought to steal a march upon them. Our oxen are in excellent condition, and may travel till to-morrow evening without feeling it. Let us yoke and be off at once, now that it is dark. The moon will rise about two o’clock in the morning; but before that, the waggons will be twelve or fifteen miles off. Alexander and I, with Bremen, will remain here with our horses, and wait till the moon rises, to see if we can discover anything; and we can easily join the waggons by daybreak. We will keep the fires up, to allow them to suppose that we are still encamped, that they may not pursue.”

“And also to keep off the lions,” observed Alexander, “which are not enemies to be despised.”

“I think it is a very good plan; but why not have more men with you? We have plenty of horses, and so have the Griquas.”

“Well then let us talk to the Griquas.”

The Griquas approved of the plan; and, having their own horses, six of them agreed to remain with Alexander and the Major, and Swanevelt and two more of the Hottentots were also mounted to remain; which made a force of twelve men, well-mounted and well-armed. The remainder of the caravan yoked the oxen to the waggons, and, under the direction of Swinton, set off in a southerly direction, across the desert, instead of going by the banks of the Vaal River, as before.

This had been arranged previously to any expected attack from the Matabili, as it would considerably shorten the distance on returning, although they knew that they would find much difficulty in procuring water for a few days. After the caravan had departed, it was found that Omrah had helped himself to a horse and a gun, and had remained in the camp; but as he was always useful, his so doing was passed over without notice. In half an hour, the waggons were out of sight, and the noise of their wheels was no longer to be heard.

They fastened their horses in the centre of the fires, and sat down by them till the moon rose, when they directed their eyes to the opposite bank of the river; but for some time nothing was discovered, to confirm their suspicions. When the moon was about an hour high, they perceived a body of men coming down towards the banks, and the moon shone upon their shields, which were white. As soon as they arrived at the bank of the river, they all sat down, without making any noise. Shortly afterwards, another body, with dark-coloured shields, made their appearance, who came down and joined the first.

“We were not wrong in our suspicions, at all events,” said the Major; “I should say that there are not less than a thousand men in these two parties which have already appeared. Now, what shall we do? Shall we remain here, or shall we be off, and join the waggons?”

“I really can hardly decide which would be the best,” replied Alexander; “let us have a consultation with Bremen and the Griquas.”

“If we were to go away now,” said Bremen, “the fires would soon be out, and they might suspect something, and come over to reconnoitre. When they found that we were gone, they would perhaps follow us, and overtake the waggons; but if we remain here, and keep the fires up till daybreak, the waggons will have gained so much more distance.”

The Griquas were of the same opinion; and it was decided that they would remain there till daybreak, and then set off.

“But,” said Alexander, “shall we leave this before they can see us, or allow them to see us?”

The Griquas said, that it would be better that the enemy should see them, as then they would know that the fires had been kept up to deceive them, and that the waggons were probably a long way off.

This having been agreed upon, a careful watch was kept upon the enemy during the remainder of the night. Although the moon had discovered the approach of the Matabili to the party, the spot where the camp had been pitched was in the shade, so that from the opposite side of the river only the fires could be distinguished. A little before dawn, some one was heard approaching, and they were all prepared to fire, when they discovered that it was Omrah, who, unknown to them, had crawled down to the banks of the river, to reconnoitre the enemy.

Omrah, who was out of breath with running, stated that some of the Matabili were crossing the river, and that six had landed on this side, before he came up to give the information. He pointed to a clump of trees, about three hundred yards off; and said that they had gone up in that direction, and were probably there by that time.

“Then we had better saddle and mount,” said the Major, “and ride away gently to the wood on this side of the camp. We shall then be able to watch their motions without being seen.”

This advice was good, and approved by all. They led out their horses without noise, and as soon as they had done so, they went back, and threw more fuel on the fires. They then retreated to the wood, which was about the same distance from the camp, on the other side, as the clump of trees where the Matabili were secreted.

They had hardly concealed themselves, before the Matabili in the clump, surprised at not seeing the awnings of the waggons, and suspecting that they had been deceived, came out from their ambuscade; first crawling on all-fours, and as they arrived at the camp, and found only fires burning, rising up one after another. After remaining about a minute in consultation, two of the party were sent back to the river to communicate this intelligence to the main body, while the others searched about in every direction. Alexander, with the Major and their party, remained where they were, as it was their intention to cross through the wood, until they came to the open ground, about a quarter of a mile to the southward, and then show themselves to the enemy, before they went off to join the waggons.

In a few minutes it was daylight, and they now perceived that the whole body of the Matabili were crossing the river.

“They intend to pursue us, then,” said Alexander.

Omrah now pointed to the side of the river, in the direction which the waggons had travelled when they came up by its banks, saying, “When go away—ride that way first—same track waggon go that way back—same way waggon come.”

“The boy is right,” said the Major; “when we start from the wood, we will keep by the river-side, in the track by which the waggons came; and when we are concealed from them by the hills or trees, we will then start off to the southward after the waggons.”

“I see,” replied Alexander; “they will probably take the marks of the waggon-wheels coming here, for those of the waggons going away, and will follow them; presuming, as we go that way, that our waggons have gone also. But here they come up the banks; it is time for us to be off.”

“Quite time,” said the Major; “so now let us show ourselves, and then trust to our heels.”

The Matabili force was now within four hundred yards of the camp. It was broad daylight; and, with their white and red shields and short spears in their hands, they presented a very formidable appearance.

There was no time to be lost, so the party rode out of the end of the wood nearest the river, and, as soon as they made their appearance, were received by a yell from the warriors, who dashed forward in the direction where they stood. The Major had directed that no one should fire, as he and Alexander did not wish that any blood should be shed unnecessarily. They therefore waved their hands, and turning their horses’ heads galloped off by the banks of the river, keeping in the tracks made by the waggons when they came up.

As soon as they had galloped a quarter of a mile, they pulled up, and turned their horses’ heads to reconnoitre. They perceived that the Matabili force was pursuing them at the utmost speed: but as they had no horsemen, that speed was of course insufficient to overtake the well-mounted party in advance. As soon as they were near, our party again galloped off and left them behind. Thus they continued for four or five miles, the Matabili force pursuing them, or rather following the tracks of the waggons, when they observed a belt of trees before them about a mile off; this the Major considered as a good screen to enable them to alter their course without being perceived by the enemy. They therefore galloped forward, and as soon as they were hidden by the trees, turned off in a direction by which they made certain to fall in with the track which the waggons had made on their departure during the night.

They had ridden about two miles, still concealed in the wood, when they had the satisfaction of perceiving the Matabili force still following at a rapid pace the tracks of the waggons on the river-side. Having watched them for half an hour, as they now considered that all was safe, they again continued their course, so as to fall in with the waggons.

“I think we are clear of them now,” said the Major; “they have evidently fallen into the trap proposed by that clever little fellow, Omrah.”

“He is a very intelligent boy,” observed Alexander, “and, travelling in this country, worth his weight in gold.”

“I wish Swinton would make him over to me,” said the Major; “but, Alexander, do you observe what a change there is already in the country?”

“I do indeed,” replied Alexander; “and all ahead of us it appears to be still more sterile and bare.”

“Yes, when you leave the rivers, you leave vegetation of all kinds almost. There is no regular rainy season at all here, Swinton says; we may expect occasional torrents of rain during three months, but they are very uncertain; the mountains attract the greater portion of the rain, and sometimes there will not be a shower on the plains for the whole year.”

“How far shall we have to travel before we fall in with water again?” inquired Alexander.

“Swinton says that there may be water in a river about sixty miles from where we started last night; if not, we shall have to proceed about thirty miles further, to the Gykoup or Vet River. After that we shall have to depend for many days upon the water we may find in the holes, which, as the season is now coming on, may probably be filled by the rain.”

Alexander and his party rode for seven or eight miles before they fell in with the tracks of the caravan; they then pulled up their jaded horses, and proceeded at a more leisurely pace, so that it was not till late in the evening that they discovered the waggons at some distance, having passed the dry bed of the Salt River ahead of them. During the whole day their horses had had neither food nor water, and the animals were much exhausted when they came up with the waggons. The oxen also were fatigued with so long a journey, having made nearly fifty miles since they started the evening before.

The country was now stony and sterile; a little vegetation was to be found here and there, but not sufficient to meet the wants of the animals, and water there was none. During the day but little game had been seen,—a few zebras and ostriches only; all other varieties had disappeared. There was of course no wood to light the fires round the encampment: a sufficiency for cooking their victuals had been thrown into the waggons, and two sheep were killed to supply a supper for so numerous a party. But the absence of game also denoted the absence of lions, and they were not disturbed during the night. In the morning the Griquas parted company with them, on the plea that their oxen and horses were in too poor a condition to pass over the desert, and that they must make a direct course for the Vaal River and return by its banks.

Our travellers gave them a good supply of ammunition, the only thing that they wished-for, and the Griquas, yoking their oxen to the crazy old waggon, set off in a westerly direction.

The route of the caravan was now directed more to the south-west, and they passed over an uninterrupted plain strewed with small land-tortoises, and covered with a profusion of the gayest flowers. About noon, after a sultry journey of nine hours, they fortunately arrived at a bog, in which they found a pool of most fetid water, which nothing but necessity could have compelled either them or the exhausted animals to drink. Near this pool in the desert they found several wild animals, and they obtained three gnoos for a supply of provision; the little wood that they had in the waggon for fuel was all used up in cooking their supper.

A heavy dew fell during the night, and in the morning, before the sun rose, they were enveloped in a thick fog. As the fog dispersed, they perceived herds of quaggas in all directions, but at a great distance. They again yoked the oxen and proceeded on their journey; the country was now covered with herbage and flowers of every hue, and looked like a garden.

“How strange that the ground should be covered with flowers where there is no rain or water to be found,” observed Alexander.

“It is the heavy dews of the night which support them,” said Swinton, “and perhaps the occasional rains which fall.”

A line of trees to the southward told them that they were now approaching an unnamed river, and the tired oxen quickened their pace; but on their arrival they found that the bed of the river was dry, and not even a drop of water was to be found in the pools. The poor animals, which had been unyoked, snuffed and smelt at the wet, damp earth, and licked it with their tongues, but could obtain no relief. The water which they had had in the casks for their own drinking was now all gone; and there were no hopes of obtaining any till they arrived at the Vet River, at least twenty five to thirty miles distant. Two of the oxen lay down to rise no more, the countenances of the Hottentots were dejected and sullen, and our travellers felt that their situation was alarming.

While they were still searching and digging for water, the sky became overcast, thunder and lightning were seen and heard in the distance, and the clouds came rolling in volumes towards them. Hope was now in every face; they already anticipated the copious showers which were to succeed; their eyes ever fixed upon the coming storm; even the cattle appeared to be conscious that relief was at hand. All that day the clouds continued to gather, and the lightning to gleam. Night closed in, but the rain had not yet fallen; the wind rose up, and in less than an hour all the clouds had passed away, the stars shone out brightly, and they were left in a state of suffering and disappointment.