By Veldt and Kopje Part 24

Close to Ship Mountain, where the plains begin, we reached the border of the tsetse region, and here we established a depot at which we left eight of our sixteen spans of oxen. The country was teeming with game.

Lions were much in evidence. Although we seldom saw the animals, their spoor abounded, and their rumbling groans were at night often audible on three sides of the camp at once. We always camped at sundown, the wagons being drawn up in a double line. Before dark the oxen would be secured to the staked-down trek-chains. All hands gathered fuel, which was very plentiful. Six large fires were kept burning all night, and four men were always on guard.

We crossed the Crocodile and Komati rivers--n.o.ble streams of clear water several hundred yards in width, eddying between large rocks upon which many crocodiles basked. Along the low banks stood groves of splendid trees, which harboured buffalo, giraffe, water-buck and many other kinds of game. Elephants we never saw, but their spoor was occasionally visible. On one occasion we heard them trumpeting and crashing through the trees.

Near the Komati I had the only narrow escape from death I ever experienced in the hunting-field, and the occasion thereof was a buck not much bigger than a "duiker." The incident occurred as follows:--

I went out one morning to shoot impala. Now the impala is a small red antelope which used to frequent river banks in immense herds. The does are hornless, but the bucks have sharp horns over eighteen inches long.

The proportion of the s.e.xes is about one buck to a hundred does. I stood in a thicket watching a herd pa.s.s, waiting for an opportunity to shoot a buck. At length I got a shot, and put a bullet through an animal with particularly fine horns, just behind the shoulder. The buck turned out of the herd, bleeding profusely, and I followed on the spoor.

When I overtook my quarry he was standing under a tree, apparently almost at the last gasp. I laid down my rifle, drew my knife and approached. The buck sprang at me like an arrow, head down. I just managed to leap out of the way; he grazed my leg in pa.s.sing and fell over, helpless. It was only by the merest chance that I escaped being transfixed.

The first notable incident occurred after we had crossed the Komati and were approaching the Lebombo Range. Early one morning we were astonished to find a tent-wagon standing in a somewhat thickly-wooded hollow. Around it lay the putrefying carcases of several oxen. A few low mounds were also visible. Under the wagon lay four white men in the last stage of exhaustion from fever. All were raving in delirium.

There were no signs of water in the vicinity. The surrounding trees were thickly encrusted with bright yellow lichen, which gave them a ghastly and fever-stricken look.

We camped close to the spot, wondering what could be the explanation of the strange phenomenon. Hours pa.s.sed, but we could discover no clue.

The unhappy creatures under the wagon mowed at us and raved in French.

We gave them water, which they greedily drank. The stench was frightful; the mounds we had noticed were human graves. But no excavations had been made, the sand being simply heaped over the bodies.

Then a gigantic, bearded man emerged from the bush and approached, carrying a small demijohn in each hand. I recognised him as one Alexandre, a Frenchman I had known on the diamond fields. He explained matters. The expedition, originally eight strong, had started from Lydenburg some six weeks previously. The whole team of oxen succ.u.mbed more quickly than usual to tsetse bite. All his companions went down with fever. Three died and had been laid to their rest under the mounds. But even there rest had been denied them, for the lions used to come at night and tear open the graves; they had actually rooted out one of the bodies. Owing to prodigality of ammunition when the big game was most plentiful, only very few cartridges were left. Every night jackals and hyenas used to snarl and fight over the carcases of the oxen, which lay only a few yards from the wagon. But it was the lions that were the chief source of terror. A lioness had carried off a dog from the fireside immediately behind the wagon. As though aware of the helplessness of the stricken party, the great brutes became bolder and bolder, walking round and round the camp in an ever-narrowing circle.

All this was corroborated by the fact that not a hand's-breadth of ground anywhere near the camp was without a lion's spoor. The nearest water lay ten miles away, and to the spring Alexandre wended, with his two demijohns, every day. We loaded the sick men up--leaving the wagon in the waste like a stranded ship--and took them on to Delagoa Bay.

The road had been cut by the Transvaal authorities to near the inland base of the Lebombo, and by the Portuguese to the seaward base. It fell to our lot to clear a pa.s.sage over the mountain itself. This entailed a great deal of crowbar work, in rolling out of the way huge boulders. My clearest remembrance in connection with the enterprise is of a scorpion sting which I received in the hand.

We reached Lourenco Marques in due course. The inhabitants turned out _en ma.s.se_ to meet us. For several miles along the road approaching the town, the trees were loaded with children gaping in dumb curiosity. The town lay between the bay and a crescent-shaped swamp. This was crossed by several causeways. Between the swamp and the houses stood a fortified wall, from which projected many poles bearing mouldering human heads. The town was from the seaward side dominated by a wicked-looking fortress.

The princ.i.p.al inhabitants appeared to be Banyans who, surrounded by members of their dusky harems and clad in picturesque Eastern dress, occupied the stoeps on the shady side of every street. All the houses had closely latticed windows, but these were thrown open when the shades of evening fell.

There was a very high time in the old town that night. Our party took possession of the only hotel--a large, cool and comfortable house kept by a Portuguese named Fernandez, who had an English wife. With our arrival respectability fled shrieking from the premises. I trust I may be acquitted of self-righteousness in recording the circ.u.mstance that I was the only sober one among the strangers. We acted more or less like an army which has taken a city by a.s.sault.

One of the larger stores stocked a quant.i.ty of obsolete fire brigade uniforms. These, in most details suggestive of the burlesque stage, included enormous helmets, which had ma.s.sive burnished metal guards extending down the wearer's back. Mild hints towards a realisation of these monstrosities may be found in Flaxman's ill.u.s.trations to the Iliad. We dressed in the uniforms and proceeded to paint the settlement red.

After dinner one of our braves staggered into the hotel dining-room, carrying seven or eight rifles with fixed bayonets attached under one arm, and a trembling Portuguese soldier under the other. This unhappy being was summarily tried for attempted murder. In pa.s.sing sentence of death--and the address was punctuated by dabs with a full-c.o.c.ked and loaded revolver--the judge came crashing to the floor. The marble-topped table on which he sat collapsed into utter ruin. The sentence was to have been carried out at once, but a few of us, who still retained some vestige of our senses, with difficulty succeeded in getting an hour's reprieve to enable the culprit to prepare for eternity. We led him out and let him escape. I shall never forget how he sprinted down the street.

Later, Macpherson and I sallied forth in search of adventure. We happened upon the Governor's residence. Here an archway led into a small courtyard which was full of tropical plants. Another arched doorway led from the courtyard into the house, and over the apex hung a fine pair of koodoo horns. Two sentries paced the footway outside, but we had slipped in before they realised our intentions--Macpherson leading and I following, with misgivings, in his wake. When we looked round, there stood the two sentries barring the way we had entered by with fixed bayonets. Macpherson reached up, tore the koodoo horns from the wall, placed the skull to his chest and charged with a terrible yell. The sentries collapsed. One escaped; the other we captured and put in a sentry box, which we turned over on him. We stuck the bayoneted rifles into his Excellency's flower-beds and departed, leaving the unhappy sentry a p.r.o.ne prisoner.

Next day the town was, except for ourselves, like a city of the dead.

All the shops were shut--not a soul appeared. The soldiers were shut up in the fort, the cannon of which were trained on the streets. However, some sort of order was restored, negotiations were opened, and it was agreed that we were to load up the goods we had come to fetch early next morning. This we accordingly did. Then we drew our wagons some few miles out of town and held high wa.s.sail in the primeval bush.

Our wagons were almost entirely laden with gunpowder, and the loads were light. The gunpowder was contained in 100-pound kegs. These last were loosely built and hooped together with twigs. The explosive inside was done up in 5-pound bags. We also had a mitrailleuse, which was drawn by eight oxen. I well remember the name of this weapon, inscribed in large letters on a thick copper plate. It was "Le General Schuler."

About three days' trek from the port lay the Mattol Marsh--a hideous quagmire several hundred yards in width. On our forward journey we had felled trees and laid a corduroy road over it. This the empty wagons crossed with comparative ease, but now when loaded they broke it up with dire results. The barrels had to be carried across. There was no chance of a rest by the way as, on account of the gaping s.p.a.ces between the staves, the kegs could not be laid down in the mud even for an instant. The bare recollection of that experience gives me toothache in the atlas bone. Then the wagons had to be taken asunder and carried across piecemeal, but this was not so bad, for we could take an occasional rest.

The Mattol was, alas! not the only marsh we had to cross. Soon, from much handling, the gunpowder barrels began to break up, and we had to deal with the bags. Then these began to give way, and loose powder permeated everything. We tasted it in our tea; we shook it out of our kits when we unrolled them each night. Strict orders against smoking anywhere near the wagons had been given, but no one, from the commander down, paid the least attention to these. I have seen several men lying on the ground smoking under a wagon, and when one climbed up to get his kit, watched small trickles of powder fall among the smokers. Once a gra.s.s fire swept towards us before a stiff breeze. We were then outspanned at the Komati Drift. An order was pa.s.sed round that when the fire reached a certain point we were to leave the wagons to their fate and take to the river. This, by the way, was full of crocodiles. But suddenly the wind died away, so we rushed at the fire and beat it out with our shirts. It was evident that the Fates were determined we were not to be blown up.

Occasionally we trekked by moonlight. One night I was walking with two others some distance in front of the leading wagon. We carried no weapons. One man uttered a low "sh-h" and held up his hand. There, not five yards away, were a lion and a lioness crouched flat in the roadway.

We stepped slowly backwards for about fifty yards and then stood not upon the order of our going until we met the convoy.

One morning buffalo were reported close to the camp. I sprang from my blankets and went after them. I wounded one badly and went on its spoor. The sun began to decline, and I attempted to get back to the wagons. But the country was flat and the trees stood high on every side. Soon the terrible fact came home to me that I was lost.

I had neither eaten nor drunk since the previous evening. The day was sultry; soon I began to suffer from raging thirst. I had only three cartridges left, having expended the others on the wounded buffalo, whose vanishing hindquarters had been my occasional target for several hours. But my thirst became so furious that I determined to shoot some animal and drink its blood. I reached a long and wide depression where trees were few, but which was full of straggling patches of reeds.

Looking through one of the latter I became aware of several animals moving to my left. I crept to the end of the reed-patch to intercept them and--out stalked five lions. Two were full grown; three were cubs.

The old couple paced majestically away; the cubs squatted funnily on their haunches and looked at me with quaint curiosity.

That night I perched in a tree, where I was driven from bough to bough by predatory ants. When the sun arose I got my bearings roughly.

Fortunately the day was cool. Early in the afternoon I managed to strike the trail of the wagons. After walking on it for about an hour, I found I was going in the wrong direction. But I turned and staggered along until about midnight, when I reached the camp. Here I narrowly escaped being shot, for when the sentry challenged I could not answer, my lips, tongue and throat being like crackling leather. Thus ended the most horrible experience of my life.

We cached our cargo at Ship Mountain, having dug a pit for it in the dry sand. The wagons were at once sent back to Delagoa with the fresh spans. The cattle which had been through the fly country were left at the cache. Six men of our party were put in charge. I happened to be one of these.

Almost immediately the unhappy cattle began to die. Soon they lay in heaps at a spot about a mile from the camp. Thither we used to drive them when signs of collapse set in. It would, of course, have been far more merciful to shoot them all at once, but this we were not permitted to do.

At this bovine Golgotha congregated all the carnivora of the neighbourhood. Lions, hyenas and jackals were always to be found. It is popularly believed that lions will not eat carrion. This is a mistake; I have seen them doing so and apparently enjoying themselves.

Our nights were made hideous by the hyenas, whose yell is surely one of the most atrocious sounds in Nature's repertoire. Lions worried us considerably. On dark nights they used to drink at, and befoul, a pool within ten yards of our tent. There was no other water for many miles around. One evening a runner with letters from Lydenburg was driven up a tree by a lion within a couple of miles of our camp and kept a prisoner until about eleven next forenoon.

I recall one trifling incident which left a very weird impression. One very dark night we heard a far-off halloo. The surrounding country was absolutely uninhabited--so far as human beings were concerned. The source of the noise drew nearer and nearer, the halloo sounding at short intervals. It was unmistakably a human voice. We made a roaring blaze, shouted, waved firebrands and discharged guns. But the creature with the human voice pa.s.sed, I should say, about three hundred yards from us, uttering its gruesome cry at intervals. Then the cry grew fainter and fainter, until it died away in the distance. None of us slept a wink that night.

In our charge were thirty donkeys. For these we built a high corral.

The country being full of game--and sick oxen--the lions never interfered with these donkeys, although the spoors showed that they used to prowl around the enclosure nearly every night, evidently meditating a spring.

One day we saw a vast cloud of dust steadily approaching from the distant south-west. There was not a breath of wind stirring. Then came a sound like that of the sea. This swelled to a thunderous roar, and soon we were surrounded by a mighty host of stampeding big game.

Buffalo, quagga, wildebeest, koodoo, hartebeest, and many other varieties were jostling together and rushing wildly on. Occasionally the long, swaying necks of a troop of giraffe would loom dimly above the thronging ma.s.s. Had it not been for the fact that three big trees shielded our tent, I firmly believe we would have been overwhelmed.

It took about twenty minutes for this hurricane to pa.s.s. Our thirty donkeys had disappeared, carried along by the resistless flood. I found two of these a couple of days afterwards, about ten miles away. The others were seen no more. After the stampede not a single head of game was to be found in the neighbourhood, so we were reduced for some time to a diet of dried peas.

In due course the second convoy arrived from the Bay, and four wagons, drawn by such of the oxen as were still fit to travel, were sent on to Lydenburg. I accompanied these.

When we began to ascend the mountain spurs the nights turned bitterly cold. We had desperately hard work, for the cattle became so weak that we had to unload at nearly every donga. Being, as we thought, out of the lion country, our vigilance at night was somewhat relaxed. We posted only one sentry at a time, nor were large fires around the camp any longer compulsory. Very early on the morning before we reached the summit of the range I was on guard. Mine was the third watch, and my two predecessors had so faked our only time-piece that my vigil had lasted nearer six than the regulation three hours. One of the recovered donkeys was tied to a bush about twelve feet from where I sat, vainly endeavouring to warm my hands over a few dying embers. Just before daybreak two lions sprang on the unhappy donkey. I heard the wretched animal's bones crack. The lions dragged the carcase about fifty yards away--into a thick bush--and there breakfasted at their leisure.

On our return to Lydenburg most of the members of the expedition were paid off. We had lost only one man; he perished in a gra.s.s fire in the low country.

I often wonder as to what has been the fate of my companions. Some few I have heard of; only three have I since foregathered with. Two of the latter I know to be dead. The others are--where?

My one-time comrades, I salute you--or your shades. Taking into account the kind of men you were, the way you lived and moved and had your being, and the fact that you were all so much older than I, few should, in the natural course of events, be still alive. A short, but by no means a merry, life is the usual lot of such as you. May your spirits have found that rest which could never have been their portion on earth.

Vale!

CHAPTER FOURTEEN.

KAFFIR MUSIC.

If one were to ask the average inhabitant of South Africa whether the Bantu tribes have any national music, the reply would almost surely be in the negative. It is known that the mission-trained native sometimes develops remarkable singing powers, and that he picks up part-music with strange facility; but in his natural state the native is supposed only to exercise his vocal powers in the "tshotsha," which is a lugubrious sound generated deep down in the throat, and suggests a commingling of the notes of the corn-crake with the noise made by the wind in streaming over the open bunghole of an empty barrel.

Nevertheless, the Bantu possesses a music of his own; but this can only be heard, as a rule, if one frequent the celebration of his tribal ceremonies.

Many of the native songs and chants are very intricate compositions, in which the different parts are adjusted to each other with ingenious nicety. Such part-songs are probably extremely old, and have reached their present development very gradually.

It is not, however, with these that this article will deal, but rather with simple tunes which it has been found possible to note down as opportunity offered. Such may be of interest for purposes of comparison with the rudimentary music of other savage peoples.