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

Chapter Fourteen.
The Blauw-Boks

After all, the young yägers were not to be disappointed in a chase. If the fox of South Africa gives but poor sport, there are plenty of other animals, neither so weak-limbed nor short-winded; and one of this kind it was their fortune to fall in with on that same day, and almost within the hour.

On the other side of the mokhala grove from that on which the ostriches had been observed, lay a wide open plain. It was not a desert, although it approached so near to one, – separated from it only by a belt of timber. It was a prairie or natural meadow, the grass – perhaps from contrast with the broad brown expanse on the other side – having an extremely fresh green look.

It was a large plain, though not limitless to the view. In the distance could be seen a wood of the giraffe-acacia, or “cameel-doorns,” bounding the horizon; and several clumps of these trees, with their umbrella-like heads and feathery fronds of pale green, stood isolated upon the plain, giving the scene altogether an interesting aspect. A very park appeared this plain, with wide open pastures between its groves and coppices, many of which were of such regular forms that one would have fancied they had been planted to adorn it.

So lordly a park, such rich pastures, could not be untenanted; nor were they. There was no mansion, no house, not a trace of a human being to be seen, but for all that the plain had its denizens. Many forms could be distinguished upon or around it, both of winged and wingless creatures. Birds and quadrupeds of rare and beautiful kinds made this fair scene their home.

Over its greensward stalks the “secretary,” the true serpent-eater, hunting among the grass for his glittering prey. Even without using his wings, he need not fear any of the crouching carnivora, as his long legs suffice to carry him far beyond reach of either hyena, jackal, wild dog, guepard, or leopard. Swift is he, almost as the great ostrich itself, – so swift as to have earned from the Arabs the singular sobriquet of the “Devil’s horse.”

Not far off another tall bird stands erect upon the plain, but of very different character and habits. This is the “pauw” or “wild peacock,” – a peacock only in the phraseology of the boors, for the bird is a bustard, and the largest of his tribe – the Otis kori.

Running from copse to copse, or feeding over the plain, may be seen flocks of the pearly guinea-fowl, (Numida meleagris), whose constant chattering grates harshly on the ear, resembling the metallic clanking of machinery, or the sharpening of a hundred saws.

From tree to tree flutter gaudy parrots, green pigeons, and soft cooing doves, and over flowery shrubs flit numerous species of tiny “honey-suckers,” – the African representatives of the humming-birds. Some trees carry the pensile nests of the weaver-bird, (Ploceus), hanging from their branches like large fruits, while many of the cameel-doorns are loaded with the vast thatch-like republican dwellings of the sociable grosbeak, (Loxia socia).

But birds are not the only tenants of this fair scene. Quadrupeds, as bright and beautiful as they, haunt its verdant glades, or repose under the grateful shadow of its acacia-groves.

In a few hours’ ride one might see graceful antelopes of many species. The nimble springbok – the gazelle of South Africa – might be observed trooping over the sward, or bounding high in air either in sport or alarm – the orange “hartebeest,” and the purple “sassybe,” might be seen – the shaggy-maned eccentric gnoo, scouring the plain in circles – droves of quaggas, or of the still more beautiful “zebra of the plains,” (Equus Burchellii), might be seen too, crouching around the copses, the leopard, fair but fearful to look upon; and still more fearful to behold the tawny tyrant of the scene – the lion.

All these creatures, and many more of equal interest, might come under the eye of the traveller or hunter during a single day’s ride through that wild domain.

Thus full of life, what a contrast did this beautiful meadow present to the monotonous waste of wilderness, that stretched away from the opposite side of the grove to the far horizon!

Baulked in their projected “surround” of the ostriches – disappointed by the “poor sport” which the fox had afforded, the hunter-boys were determined not to be “choused” out of a chase. Some sort of one they would have, if it were only a brush after springboks, for these, they knew, they could find at any time. They were aware of the existence of the fine plain – the edge of which came up within a few hundred yards of their camp. They had pastured their cattle there on the evening before; and conjectured that it must be the haunt of many kinds of game. For this reason they now resolved upon making an excursion to that quarter, to hunt whatever might turn up.

They came to this determination, only after their return from the ostriches’ nest; but as they had made up their minds to it before eating breakfast, they did not off-saddle, but kept their horses ready for being mounted.

As soon as the meal was over, they took once more to their saddles and rode off, the buck-dogs following at the heels of their horses. Congo and Swartboy stayed by the camp.

They had not far to go, before coming in view of their game; and rare game that was.

They were scarce yet a hundred paces from the camp, and just about to ride out from the timber, when Hendrik, in the advance, suddenly reined up his horse, making a sign for the others to do the same. All pulled up in a breath, and sat in their saddles, gazing out through the leaves. Though still within the shadow of the grove, all had a good view of the open plain; and before them was a sight that would have warmed the hearts of older hunters than they.

Out upon the plain, and directly in front of them, was a herd of noble antelopes. They were neither gnoos, nor springboks, nor hartebeests, nor any of the common kinds that the party had already met with, and had hunted to their satisfaction. Indeed, they were of a species that none of the six had ever seen before, and they only knew them to be antelopes from the make of their bodies, the shape of their horns, and other points characteristic of these animals.

They were antelopes of large size, standing nearly four feet high, having sabre-shaped horns curving gently backward and ringed to within six inches of their tips. Their general colour was ashy grey, tinged with raven-blue – the blue tint being caused by the deep black colour of the skin shining through the hair.

Although none of the party had ever seen such antelopes before, Hans, and also the hunters Hendrik and Groot Willem, guessed what kind they were. They were of a kind that once ranged the Graaf Reinet, and even as far south as the Cape itself, though there they were never common. That was long before any of the young yägers had ever fired a gun or mounted a horse, but as these remembered having heard their fathers talking of this animal – of its blue colour, of its long curving horns, of its fine outline of form, as well as bold fierce character – they recognised those before them by the descriptions they had heard. They could be no other than blue-bucks, or blauw-boks in the language of the boors.

Hans, after eyeing them a moment, gave this as his opinion. The species was the blauw-bok, the Aigocerus leucophea of modern systematists.

Now of the group of antelopes to which the general name Aigocerus has been given there are five species – all large noble animals, and all inhabitants of South Africa, and particularly the countries adjacent to the Great Orange River.

First, there is the “waterbuck,” (Aigocerus ellipsiprymnus), which stands nearly four feet in height, is of bluish grey colour, frequents the banks of rivers, takes the water freely – whence its trivial name – swims well, is bold, fierce, strong, and dangerous, when bayed or wounded.

Secondly, there is the “takhaitze,” (Aigocerus barbatus), nearly as large as the waterbuck, but distinguished by a long beard and mane. The character of the waterbuck for fierceness and daring also belongs to the takhaitze, and both are swift runners. The latter, however, is less attached to the water, and frequents a hilly region, browsing goat-like upon the leaves of the acacia.

The third of this genus is the “roan antelope,” (Aigocerus equinus), a strong fierce animal, with horns curving backwards as in the blue-buck, but thicker, and more rapid in the curve. It is an antelope not of the plains, but a dweller in the hilly region.

The “sable antelope” (Aigocerus niger) is by far the most beautiful animal of the group. It is not many years since this antelope was made known to science, having been discovered in South Africa by a keen British sportsman. It is one of the largest of the race, standing four feet six inches in height, and carrying a pair of scimitar-shaped horns over three feet in length. Its colour is a deep glossy black or sable – whence its specific appellation – though it is white underneath with white markings about the head and neck. None of the antelopes of this group are of common occurrence even in their native haunts. None of the species can be called gregarious – that is, they do not appear in large herds, like the springboks, gnoos, hartebeests, or bonteboks – though small troops of less than a dozen – families, in fact – may be seen together. Oftener they are met with in pairs, or single individuals, and they are all scarce in the regions they inhabit when compared with the vast herds of the more social kinds.

The blue-buck is now one of the very rarest of the group, so much so that some naturalists believe it to be extinct. That is not likely. Africa is a large country.

Now all this information was furnished by philosopher Hans. He did not offer it just then – that is when they came in sight of the herd of blue-bucks; though he would, likely enough, had the others been inclined to listen to him.

But they were not. The hunters Hendrik and Groot Willem were gazing with eyes wide open, admiring the beautiful proportions of the blauw-boks, which promised them a glorious run.

Chapter Fifteen.
A Brush after the Blue-Bucks

As already stated, there were seven antelopes in the herd. One, an old buck, larger than any of the rest, and having horns over three feet long, was in the advance acting as leader. When first observed, they were approaching the grove of mokhalas – perhaps to reach the water by the spring. So thought the yägers, and held a hurried consultation about it, as they watched the advance of the animals. Hurried it was, and abruptly terminated, for before they could come to any definite plan of action, one of the buck-dogs, a young and half-trained animal, sprang forward out of cover, and opened his bay right in the faces of the antelopes.

The whole seven wheeled round in their tracks, and obedient to a snorting signal of the leader, started back in the direction they had come, going at top speed.

Of course all idea of stratagem was foiled by the unexpected behaviour of the dog. A straight tail-on-end chase was the only course left the hunters to follow; and, plying the spur, all the six shot out of the timber, and rode “view halloo” over the open plain.

A splendid chase it was for several minutes – the seven blue-bucks in advance, the dogs in the middle, and the “field” following in the rear. A splendid chase, indeed!

But only for a few minutes did dogs, hunters, and game, maintain these relative positions. The horsemen spread first. The ponies of Klaas and Jan fell to the rear, and were soon distanced. Then lagged the philosopher Hans, whose cob, though steady under fire, and a good roadster, was no hunter; and, next, the handsome Arend, – who might have taken a better place, for his steed was a good one. But Arend cared but little for hunting, and less for hard riding under a hot sun; and having permitted himself to get so far behind that the view of the chase was no longer interesting, he reined up under the shade of a cameel-doorn, and commenced fanning himself with the gauntlet of his military glove!

There were two, however, who still rode to the dogs with the keen ardour of sportsmen – Hendrik and Groot Willem; and from a feeling of rivalry, as already hinted at, each was determined to be in at the death.

Both were well mounted, though very dissimilarly. The horse that Hendrik rode was a beautiful coal-black, of medium size, with a dash of the Arab in him – just enough to make of him what is termed a “hunter,” – a breed the finest in the world, and for all purposes, except race-course gambling, finer even than the Arabian itself.

Groot Willem’s horse differed widely from this kind; and the same description that has been given of Groot Willem, or one very similar, would answer for his steed.

In size, he bore the same proportion to Hendrik’s hunter that his rider bore to Hendrik – that is, he was a full half bigger; but his own members were out of all proportion with each other.

His body was flat and gaunt, and his limbs long and bony. His neck also was of an immense length, without the slightest semblance of a curve; and his head was angular and “bumpy,” like that of a giraffe. He had other points of similarity to this singular quadruped, in his rough awkward gait, and long-stumped thin-haired tail; and the young yägers, in view of these resemblances, had jocosely christened him “Groot-Kameel,” (Great Camel). He was about as ugly a horse as could have been found in all the land of the boors; and yet his owner, Groot Willem, would not have exchanged him for the handsomest horse in Africa.

Notwithstanding his ugliness, he was a good horse. In jockey phrase, “a bad ’un to look at, a good ’un to go.” Groot Willem was no man for appearances. He liked performance better than promise; and the “Great Camel” was the type of that idea – he promised nothing, but performed amazingly. Many a quagga, and wildebeest and sassybe, had he ridden down; many a stanch buck-dog had he tired out and passed in the chase with the heavy weight of Groot Willem on his back. No wonder the latter felt a high regard for his well-trained hunting horse.

Hendrik had an equal affection for his beautiful black; and as no opportunity had yet offered of a fair trial between the two steeds, a good deal of talk had passed about their respective merits as regarded speed and “bottom.” On the question of beauty nothing could be said. Hendrik had the advantage there; and even Groot Willem acknowledged it, at the same time that he sneered at that being considered a “merit” in a horse.

The chase of the blauw-boks seemed to offer the chance of a fair trial. The animals had taken across the open plain, which would lead the hunters several miles at least, as the game was not one to be run down in a hurry. In a ride like that before them, it would be seen which backed the best steed.

Both riders were determined to make the most of their horses. Both were wary hunters, and, instead of dashing forward at break-neck speed, it could be seen that each was “going cunning,” and saving their steeds for the final burst. Hendrik felt that in speed for a mile or two he could have headed the “Camel” easily enough. But the bucks had got a good start, and it was not likely he could overtake them within that distance. He held up, therefore, riding gently, lest in the end the great horse of his rival might come out too strong for him.

For some distance the two galloped “cheek by jowl,” the dogs far in the advance, and the bucks still running together before them. The latter did not seek to escape into the bushes, though they passed near several large copses. They kept in the open plain, in a course nearly direct. Stag-like they were running for some water – as antelopes of the aigocerine group habitually do.

But the dogs did not husband their speed, some of them were young and foolish, although very swift; and before the bucks had passed over a mile of ground, two or three of their canine pursuers pushed them so closely that the herd broke, and the antelopes, in their terror, forsook each other, and ran wildly in various directions.

The character of the hunt was now quite altered. The pack split up just as the game had done, each dog following the antelope that seemed nearest him, and in a few moments the chase was scattered all over the plain.

The two hunters had now a choice, whether each should pursue a separate game, or both take after the same. But neither thought for a moment of separating from the other, except by heading him. The spirit of rivalry, though silent, was strongly felt by both. Even the very horses seemed to be actuated by a similar feeling, eyeing each other askance, as they galloped side by side!

The antelope that both were determined to follow was easily selected from the rest. The old buck that hitherto led the herd had now gone off by himself, followed by a pair of the stanchest dogs. His horns were the meteors that gleamed in the eyes of our hunters, and beckoned them on.

Without exchanging a word with each other, both rode after the buck.

Chapter Sixteen.
Groot Willem gets a Tumble

The chase was now one of exceeding interest, and had become a simple trial of speed between horses, dogs, and antelope. The buck had kept on in a direct line, when the others broke away from him. He had been foremost at the time, and had no need to turn out of his course. Besides he knew where he was running to. Terror had driven the others out of their senses, and they had fled without design, while the old buck, not losing his “presence of mind,” kept on for the water.

A dark belt seen ahead was a forest fringing some stream or river. That was the point he was making for, but a wide plain must be crossed before he could wet his hoof in any water. Over this plain now swept the chase.

Oddly enough, the two dogs that had chosen the buck for their game were rival dogs – that is, each hunter was owner of one of them, and regarded him as a favourite; and all three kinds, dogs, horses, and riders, seemed to be on their mettle, and were doing their very best.

Do not fancy there was any ill-feeling between Groot Willem and Hendrik. Nothing of the sort. Each loved his horse and his dog, and wished them to excel – each had his hunter reputation at stake in the result – and each had resolved upon carrying the head and horns of that blue-buck in triumph to the camp!

Notwithstanding all this, there was no “bad blood” between the boys. Nothing of the sort.

Beautifully the buck ran. Lightly he leaped over the turf, his limbs at each spring stretching to an almost horizontal line, with head high in air and horns curving backward to his flanks. Well and beautifully he ran!

Sometimes he gained on his pursuers, as the nature of the ground favoured his hoofs; but again the strong buck-dogs howled upon his heels, and the hunters galloped but a hundred yards behind him. The blue of his back soon changed to a deeper tint, as the sweat poured through his sable skin, and the froth in large flakes clouted his neck and shoulders. His red tongue hung dripping from his jaws, and the hunters might have heard his hard breathing but for the panting of their own steeds.

Five miles did they go in that wild gallop – five miles without drawing rein or changing pace!

The woods were near – perhaps the water! The buck would gain them if not hard pressed – there might be a deep reach of some large river – the blauw-bok can swim like a duck – he would plunge in – they could not follow – they would lose him!

With such fears the hunters spurred their horses for a final burst. Their speed had proved nearly equal. Now was the time to try their “bottom.”

Both shot forward at the fresh touch of the steel; but at the second or third spring the ground under the “Great Camel” gave way, and the huge horse with his heavy rider rolled headlong to the earth!

He had broken through the burrow of the aard-wolf!

Hendrik, who had shot a little ahead, heard the confused noise behind, and, looking over his shoulder, saw Groot Willem and the “Camel” struggling together over the turf. A more attractive object, however, was in front of him – the panting buck – and without making halt, or staying to inquire whether his fellow-hunter was hurt – a pardonable neglect among sportsmen – he pressed his wearied horse still forward and onward.

In five minutes after, the buck stood to bay by the edge of the timber, and the dogs rushed up and sprang at him. It was a fatal spring for one of them – the favourite of Groot Willem. The luck was against him, as it had gone against his master. A single “gowl” came from his throat, as he was flung back off the sharp horns of the antelope. It was the last note he ever uttered, for in a moment more he had kicked his last kick, and lay lifeless upon the plain!

And very likely Hendrik’s favourite would have shared the same fate; but his master at this moment riding near, caused the blue-buck a fresh alarm, and he broke bay, and dashed into the bushes followed by the dog.

Hendrik now lost sight of the chase, though he could hear the breaking branches, as the strong antelope made his way through the thicket, and the baying of the dog still told him the direction in which the game was going.

Putting his horse to a more moderate pace, he followed through the bosch, as well as he could. He expected every moment to hear the hound bark, the signal that the buck had again stood to bay, but he was doomed to disappointment. No such sound reached his ears.

He began to think that the buck was lost, and that, after all the chances in his favour, he would return to camp with no better story to tell than his rival. He was becoming exceedingly chagrined with the turn things had taken, when, to his further chagrin, he heard a loud plunge, as of some heavy object falling into deep water. He knew it was the buck. Another plunge! – that was the dog.

There was a river ahead – the antelope had taken to it, and would now escape to a certainty. The water seemed near – there was an open tract that led in that direction. Perhaps he might be in time. Perhaps he might get to the bank before the buck could reach the opposite shore. A bullet from his rifle might yet secure the game.

Without hesitating a moment he again spurred his horse, and galloped down the hill in the direction of the water.

There was a river, and in a few seconds’ time Hendrik was on its bank. He had arrived at a place where the water was deep and the current still, but the rippling wave on the surface guided him. Two objects were seen above the surface moving rapidly across. They were the horns of the buck and the head of the buck-dog!

Hendrik had no time to alight. Before he could steady his horse, the blauw-bok had got out of the water, and was climbing up the opposite bank. There was just time for a hurried shot. The broad back of the antelope offered a fair mark, and the next moment a tuft of the hair near the spine, was seen to fly up like a spark, while a red stream spouted from the spot. The crack of a rifle explained this phenomenon; and before its echoes had died away, the antelope came tumbling down the slope, and lay motionless by the edge of the water.

The horns were Hendrik’s!