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The Young Yagers: A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa

Chapter Forty One.
The Guinea-Hens

Although Swartboy and Congo supped upon the flesh of the waterbuck – which is far from being a delicate venison – the boys had something better for supper. That was roast fowl, and a very dainty kind of it, quite equal to grouse or partridge. They all supped upon “guinea-hen.”

The guinea-fowl (Numida meleagris) is a bird that has been long known, and is often mentioned in the works of ancient writers under the names Meleagris and Gallina Numidica. It is unnecessary to give a description of its appearance, as every one is acquainted with the beautiful pearly plumage of the bird, from which it has obtained the name of pearl-hen – among the Germans Perl-Huhn, and among the Spaniards “Pintado,” or spotted hen. The English name “Guinea-hen” is in allusion to the country from which it has been chiefly obtained in modern times. The guinea-fowl is truly a native of Africa – though it is now domesticated in almost every country in the world, and has become a common inhabitant of the farm-yard. In the United States of America, particularly in the Southern States, where the climate exactly suits it, the guinea-hen, or “guinea-chicken,” as the bird is there called, is a great favourite, both as a bird for the table and a layer of eggs; and certainly the flesh of the young pullet is much more delicate and savoury than that of the common fowl.

In many of the West India islands, the guinea-hen, although introduced from Africa, has become wild, and in the forests of Jamaica it is hunted and shot like other game. In these islands the species propagates very rapidly; and where the birds become numerous they do great mischief to the crops of the planters. On this account they are often hunted, not to be served up at the table, but for the purpose of exterminating them as troublesome pests.

Throughout all Africa, its native country, the guinea-fowl exists; but it is to be remarked that there is more than one species. The common guinea-fowl (Numida meleagris) is the best known, and in its wild state differs very little from the domesticated variety. The latter, however, frequently varies in colour, and some are seen with very little of the blue tint upon their feathers and almost without spots. This, however, is the usual law of wild birds when produced under domestication, as ducks, turkeys, geese, and all the other pets of the farm, fully demonstrate. Even when left to herself, nature often “sports” in this way, and we know of no bird or animal of which “albinos” may not be at some time observed.

In addition to the common guinea-fowl, a second species is well known to exist in the Southern parts of the African continent. This is the “crested guinea-fowl,” (Numida cristata). It is not quite so large as the common kind, and has other differences. It is of a darker blue colour, but spotted like its congener, each feather having from four to six spots upon it. The quills are yellowish brown, but the edges of the secondaries are of a pure white, which contrasts prettily with the dark colouring of the general plumage.

But the most conspicuous difference between the two species is in the formation of the crown and cheeks. As is well known, over the bill of the common guinea-fowl rises a singular warty membrane like a casque, while two carunculated wattles hang from the lower mandible. Both these appendages are wanting in the Numida cristata; but in place of the hard casque, the head of this species is ornamented with a crest of loose hair-like feathers of a bluish-black, which adds very much to the elegant appearance of the bird.

The guinea-hens are gregarious and sometimes immense flocks of them are seen together. They spend most of their time upon the ground, but they also take to trees when startled, and roost upon the branches. Their food consists of seeds, berries, and soft slugs.

While the boys were discussing what they should have for supper, a flock of these beautiful crested creatures came chattering across the open meadow in which was the camp. Of course the shot-guns were immediately put in requisition, and several of the party got ready to go after them.

Now it is not so very easy to get a shot at the wild guinea-hens. They are no great flyers, and do not take to the wing when pursued, unless when close pressed by a dog or some other swift animal. But a man on foot is no match for them, as they run very swiftly where the ground is even. They are shy, moreover; and it is not without difficulty that a shot can be had. There is one way, however, of approaching them successfully. A dog should be set after them, precisely in the same manner as though they were rabbits, hares, or any other small quadrupeds. The dog of course being swift enough to overtake them, soon comes up, and the guinea-fowls are then forced to take wing. But, as they are greatly disinclined to a long flight, they soon settle down again, or, what is more likely, perch upon the branches of the nearest tree. The dog then runs up to the tree; and, if well-trained, will commence barking, and continue so till the sportsman approaches within shot. The birds upon the tree have no fear of the dog below – knowing very well that he cannot climb up to them – but, while their attention is occupied with him, they pay no heed to their more dangerous enemy the gunner, who can then easily approach within range, and take aim at his leisure.

Now this mode of hunting the guinea-fowl was well known to the young yägers; and as one of their dogs had been trained to it, they took him along, and commenced the pursuit with every confidence that they would eat roast fowl for supper.

They were not disappointed. The birds were soon after sprung, and then treed; and the barking of the dog conducted the gunners to the spot where the game had taken roost, among the branches of some “cameel-doorn” trees near the bank of the river. Several shots were obtained; and three brace and a half were brought into camp – enough to serve not only for supper, but also for breakfast on the following morning.

It seemed to be quite a place for birds; for while there, many other species were observed by the young hunters. A great many curious plants grew in the neighbourhood, the seeds of which served many kinds for food; besides, from the proximity of the river many flies and other insects were produced, the prey of numerous shrikes and other birds of the family of Muscicapidae.

Hans pointed out a very singular bird that was flying about the meadow, and was every now and then uttering a note that sounded like the word “edolio.” From this note the bird derives its name, just as in England the “cuckoo” is named from its peculiar call, and in France “coucou.”

Now the edolio of South Africa is also a cuckoo; and although differing from our cuckoo in some respects, it has a great resemblance to it in others. It has the same parasite peculiarity of depositing its eggs in the nests of other birds, and leaving them to be hatched there; and its other habits are very similar to those of the common cuckoo.

But there are some very curious points in the history of the “edolio,” which it does not share with its European congener. Among the boors of South Africa it is known as the “New year’s day bird,” (Niuwe jaars vogel,) and these simple people ascribe to it some wonderful characteristics. They say that it appears only at the beginning of the year – whence the name “new year’s day bird” – and that whenever it is hungry it commences to cry out, and then all the little birds in the immediate neighbourhood fly towards it, carrying food, which they give it to eat!

Now all the young yägers, as well as Congo the Kaffir and Swartboy the Bushman, were well acquainted with this story; and all, with the exception of Hans, believed it to be true. Hans, however, knew the explanation of the marvellous matter, and proceeded to give it to his companions.

He stated that the bird known among the farmers as the Niuwe jaars vogel, was no other than the young of the “edolio” (Cuculus serratus) – though the farmers would not believe this, because, although full fledged, it differs a good deal from the parent birds both in size and colour, and is therefore taken for a distinct kind. That the mystery of its appearing always on the first day of the year, was scarce a fable after all, as it was about that time that young edolios obtained their full feathers, and commenced flying about. That the further statement, of its crying out when hungry, was perfectly true; but that all the small birds in the neighbourhood were summoned by its cry, was not correct, although some would be, viz: the step-mother and father that had brought it into life; and that these having been often seen in the act of feeding the young edolio had given origin to the fable. This was certainly a very good explanation.

Hans further stated that a similar belief existed among the natives of India, in relation to the large-billed cuckoo, (Eudynamis orientalis), and that the belief had a similar origin.

“The edolio,” continued Hans, “like the cuckoo, deposits its eggs in the nest of many species of small birds; and that it places them there with its beak, and not in the ordinary way, has been satisfactorily determined by naturalists.”

Chapter Forty Two.
Rooyebok

As our travellers advanced up-stream, the wide level plains became narrowed into mere stripes of meadow that lay along both sides of the river. On both sides, and not a great distance off, wood-covered mountains trended parallel to the course of the stream. Sometimes their spurs approached very near to the banks – so as to divide the bottom land into a series of valleys, that rose like terraces one above the other. Each of these was a separate plain, stretching from the river’s bank to the rocky foot of the mountain.

Nearly every one of them was tenanted with game of one sort or another – such as had already been met with on the route – but beyond killing enough to keep their larder supplied with fresh meat, our party did not make any stay to hunt here. The guide had informed them, that beyond the mountain where the river took its rise lay the country of the elephant, the buffalo, and the giraffe; and in hopes of reaching this long-expected land, the sight of a herd of springboks, or gnoos, or blauw-boks, or even elands, had little more interest for the young yägers than if it had been a drove of tame oxen.

Ascending into one of the upper valleys, however, they came suddenly in view of a herd of antelopes whose forms and colours distinguished them from any our hunters had yet met with. This at once decided them to halt the wagons, and prepare for a chase.

That the animals seen were antelopes, there could be no mistake. They had all the grace and lightness of form peculiar to these creatures; besides, their horns were conspicuously characteristic. Their appearance bespoke them to be true antelopes.

They were large ones too – that is, of medium size – about as large as red deer; but of course small when compared with such species as the blauw-bok or the huge eland. Each would have measured nearly three feet and a half in height – and even a little more, over the croup – for although there are some antelopes, such as those of the acronotine group – the “hartebeest,” “sassabye,” and “bekr-el-wash” – that stand lower at the croup than the shoulders, the reverse is the case with other species; and those now before the eyes of our hunters possessed the latter characteristic. They stood high at the croup.

None of the yägers had ever seen one of the kind before; and yet, the moment they came under view, both Hendrik and Groot Willem cried out —

“Rooyebok!”

“How know you that they are rooyebok?” demanded Hans.

“From their colour, of course,” replied the others.

The colour of these antelopes was a deep fulvous red over the head, neck, and upper parts of the body; paler along the sides; and under the belly pure white. There were some black marks – such as a stripe of black down each buttock, and also along the upper part of the tail – but the general colour of the animals was bright red; hence their being taken for “rooyebok,” or “red-bucks,” by Hendrik and Groot Willem.

“The colour is not a good criterion,” remarked Hans. “They might as well have been ‘grysbok,’ or ‘steinbok,’ or ‘rooye rheebok,’ for the matter of colour. I judge by the horns, however, that you are right in your guess. They are rooyebok, or, as the Bechuanas call them, ‘pallah,’ and, as naturalists style them, Antilope melampus.”

All looked at the horns as Hans spoke, and saw that these were full twenty inches in length, and somewhat like those of the springbok, but more irregularly lyrate. The two nearly met at their tips, whereas at their middle they were full twelve inches apart. This was a characteristic by which they could easily be remembered, and it had enabled Hans at once to pronounce upon the species.

Strange to say, there was but one pair of full-grown horns in the whole herd, for there was but one old buck, and the does of the pallah are hornless. A “herd” is hardly a proper term; for this species of antelope cannot be called gregarious. What our hunters saw before them was a family of rooyeboks, consisting of the old male, his wives, and several young bucks and does – in all, only eleven in number.

Our hunters knew, from what they had heard, that the rooyebok is both a shy and swift antelope – difficult either to be approached or run down. It would be necessary, therefore, to adopt some plan of proceeding, else they would not succeed in getting one of them; and they had fixed their minds most covetously on the large knotted horns of the buck. They halted the wagons to await the result of the chase; though the oxen were not to be outspanned, unless it should prove successful. If so, they would camp upon the ground for the night – so as to enable them to dress the meat, and preserve the “trophies.” With such resolves, they made ready to hunt the pallah.

Upon first coming in sight of the rooyebok, the hunters were upon the crest of a high ridge – one of the mountain-spurs, that divided the valley they had just traversed from that in which the red antelopes were feeding. From the eminence they occupied, they commanded a view of this valley to its farthest border, and could see its whole surface, except a small strip on the nearer side, which was hidden from them by the brow of the ridge on which they stood.

Around the sides of the valley there were trees and bushes; though these did not form a continued grove, but only grew in detached clumps and patches. All the central ground, where the pallahs were feeding, was open, and quite destitute of either bush or cover of any kind. Between the bordering groves there was long grass; and, by the aid of this, a skilled hunter might have crept from one grove to another, without attracting the attention of the antelopes.

It was decided, therefore, that Hendrik and Groot Willem should steal round to the other end of the valley, keeping under cover of the thickets and grass. Then the pallahs would be between two fires, as they must either go up or down the valley in trying to escape. On the right lay the steep mountain; on the left, the deep rapid river. They would not likely attempt to move off on either hand. So this design to intercept them was good enough.

The horses were now tied to trees and left on the back of the ridge, while the hunters moved forward upon the brow that overhung the valley.

They had not advanced far before that part of the valley hitherto unseen came under their eyes, and there, to their astonishment, another herd of animals appeared; not of antelopes – although, from their colour, they might have been mistaken for such. No – the short round heads, elongated bodies, thick massive limbs, and long tufted tails, told at a glance, that it was no herd of peaceful ruminants the hunters were gazing upon, but an assemblage of dreaded carnivora– a troop of lions!

Chapter Forty Three.
Four-Footed Hunters

There were twelve lions in the troop – old males, females, and whelps of different ages! A terrific spectacle to look upon, in any other way than through the bars of a cage, or out of a third story window. But our young yägers beheld them on an open plain, and at the dangerous proximity of three hundred yards!

It is needless to say that a sudden stop was put to their advance, and that every one of the six was more or less alarmed. Although they knew that, as a general rule, the lion will not attack man without provocation, it might be different where such a number were together. Twelve lions would have made short work of them, one and all. No wonder the young hunters trembled at sight of such a troop, and so near; for the brow of the ridge, running abruptly down to the plain, was all that lay between them and the dreaded assemblage. A few bounds would have brought the lions to the spot on which they stood!

After the first moments of surprise and alarm had passed, the yägers bethought themselves how to act. Of course, the pallahs were driven completely out of their mind, and all ideas of a hunt given up. To have descended into that valley, would have been to have encountered twice their own number of lions: older hunters than they would have shied off from such an encounter. They did not think for a moment of going farther, nor, indeed, of any thing but retreating; and it cannot be said that they thought of that, for it was the instinct of the moment.

“Back to our horses!” whispered they to one another, the moment they set their eyes on the lions; and, without staying to contemplate the fearful group, all six stole back; and, in less than two minutes’ time, were seated in their saddles.

Their presence had not been discovered by the lions. Two circumstances had favoured the boys, and prevented this. The ridge over which they were passing was covered with underwood, and the “bosch,” reaching as high as their heads, had sheltered them from view. The other circumstance in their favour was that the wind was blowing down the valley, and therefore, from the lions and towards themselves. Had it been otherwise, they would have been scented, and of course, discovered. Still another circumstance – the hunters had been advancing in silence, on account of the design they had formed of stalking the pallahs. The lions, therefore, still remained ignorant of their proximity. Once on horseback our party felt secure, and soon got over their little “flurry.” Each knew that the noble creature that carried him, could give any lion the heels. Even the ponies of Klaas and Jan could run away from the fastest lion in Africa. Once mounted, all felt that the danger was over.

The hunters, Hendrik and Groot Willem, were not satisfied to retreat in this way. They were resolved on at least, having another “peep” at the dangerous game; and, therefore, prepared to return to their former point of observation, of course this time on horseback. Hans also felt a similar inclination – from the desire to study a chapter of natural history – and Arend would go out of curiosity. It was not deemed safe to take Klaas or Jan along; so these two youngsters were unceremoniously sent back to the wagons, that had been halted in the lower valley near the bottom of the hill.

The other four rode slowly and silently forward, until they came once more in view of the valley, the herd of pallahs, and the troop of lions.

The antelopes were still feeding quietly near the centre of the open ground. The lions were as yet on the ground, where they had been first observed. That the pallahs knew nothing of the proximity of their dangerous neighbours was very evident, else they would not have been moving so sedately along the sward. They had no suspicion that an enemy was near. The lions were in the lower end of the valley, and therefore to leeward of them – for the wind was blowing fair downstream, and came right in the faces of the hunters. A thicket, moreover, screened the lions from the eyes of the herd.

It was equally evident that the beasts of prey were well aware of the presence of the rooyeboks. Their actions proved this. At short intervals one trotted to the edge of the “bosch,” in crouching attitude, looked out to the open plain, and after a moment or two returned to his companions, just as if he had been sent to “report.” The old males and the lionesses stood in a thick clump, and seemed to be holding a consultation! The boys had not a doubt but that they were doing this very thing, and that the subject of their deliberation was the rooyebok herd.

At length the “council” appeared to break up. The troop separated, each taking a different direction. Some went along the bottom of the valley, while several were seen to proceed towards the mountain foot.

When these last had reached the groves before mentioned, they turned upwards; and one after another were seen crouching from clump to clump, crawling along upon their bellies, as they passed through the long grass, and evidently trying to shelter themselves from the view of the pallahs.

Their object now became clear. They were proceeding to the upper end of the valley, with the design of driving the game upon those that had remained below – in fact, carrying out the identical plan which the hunters themselves had projected but the moment before! The boys marvelled at this singular coincidence; and as they sat in their saddles they could not help admiring the skill with which their rivals were carrying out their own plan.

Those – three there were – that had gone skulking up the edge of the valley, were soon out of sight – hidden under the “bosch” that grew at the opposite end, and which they had been seen to enter. Meanwhile, the other nine had spread themselves along the bottom of the valley, each taking station under cover of the bushes and long grass. The trap was now fairly set.

For a few minutes no movement was observed on the part either of lions or pallahs. The former lay crouched and stealthily watching the herd – the latter browsed peacefully along the sward, perfectly unconscious of the plot that was “thickening” around them.

Something at this moment seemed to render them suspicious. They appeared to suspect that there was danger threatening. The buck raised his head; looked around him; uttered a hiss, somewhat like the whistling of deer; and struck the ground a smart rap or two with his hoof. The others left off browsing, and several of them were seen to bound up into the air – after the very singular manner of springboks.

No doubt they had scented the lions, now at the upper end of the valley – as the breeze from that quarter blew directly towards the herd.

It was surely that; for after repeating his signal, the old buck himself sprang many feet into the air, and then stretched himself in full flight. The others of course followed, leaping up at intervals as they ran.

As the lions had well calculated, the antelopes came directly down the valley, breast forward, upon their line. Neither the wind nor any thing warned them of the dangerous ambuscade; and in a few short moments they were close to the patches of brushwood. Then the nine huge cats were seen to spring out as if moved by one impulse, and launch themselves into the air. Each had chosen a rooyebok, and nearly every one succeeded in bringing his victim to the earth. A single blow from the paw of their strong assailants was enough to stretch the poor antelopes on the plain, and put an end at once to their running and their lives. So sudden was the attack, and so short-lived the struggle, that in two seconds from the time the lions made their spring, each might be seen crouching over a dead pallah, with his paws and teeth buried in its flesh!

Three alone escaped, and ran back up the valley. But a new ambush awaited them there; and as they followed the path, that led through the thicket at the upper end, each became the prey of a lurking lion.

Not one of the beautiful antelopes, that but the moment before were bounding over the plain in all the pride and confidence of their speed, was able to break through the line of deadly enemies so cunningly drawn around them!

The hunters remained for some minutes gazing upon the singular spectacle. Hendrik and Groot Willem would have stolen forward, and sent a brace of bullets into a brace of lions; but Hans would not hear of such a thing. He alleged that there was no time when these animals are more dangerous to attack, than just after they have killed their game and are drinking its blood. At such a moment they are extremely ferocious, and will follow with implacable vengeance any one who may disturb them. It would be more prudent, therefore, not to provoke such a powerful band, but to retire altogether from the spot.

To these counsels of Hans – backed by Arend – the two hunters at length reluctantly yielded; and all four rode back to the wagons.

Arriving there, a consultation was held how they were to proceed. It would be a dangerous business to trek up the narrow valley guarded by such a troop. A ford was therefore sought for, and found at some distance below; and, having crossed their wagons, the travellers encamped on the opposite side – as it was too late to move farther that night.

They had done well to go across the river, for during the whole night the fierce brutes were heard roaring terrifically upon the side where they had been observed. In fact, the place appeared to be a regular den of lions.