On September 12 we left the Krokodil
River early in the morning, after first watering our cattle and filling our
water-bags. Our guide did not expect to come across any water before the
Sabie--a river several days' journey further on. There were several springs
on the way, but as that part of the country was so little known, because of
its unhealthiness, no one could tell when the last rains had fallen.
The shrubs and bushes had grown high
above the ruts made by the waggon two years ago, and were a great hindrance
to us. The road we followed twisted and wound rather more than was
agreeable, but it was certainly easy to follow for the lagers that came
after us. The horsemen rode next to the lagers to shoot bucks. We had no
'slaughter-cattle' with us, so had to live on the game that we shot.
In the neighbourhood of the river we
still came across birds and insects, but the further we went the more
monotonous and _dead_ Nature became. I could never have pictured such a
lifeless wood to myself. No sound of insects was to be heard, no chirp or
song of bird; and not even the trail of a serpent was to be seen.
There was a melancholy stillness.
Traces of game were in abundance. It seemed as if only those animals lived
there which, accustomed to the monotonous silence, withdrew noiselessly from
the gaze of the interloper, or, in their ignorant curiosity, stood still
until a hunter's bullet warned them or put an end to their lives. To them we
must have been strange disturbers of the peace. Shots fell in all
directions; sometimes a whole salvo was discharged when we came upon a herd
of bucks. There were many thornless trees growing in their stately height
far above the usual scrub of the Boschveld. Our horses often grazed on the
sweet buffalo grass that always grows under trees. Looked at from a rise,
the Boschveld appeared to be nothing but trees--trees as far as the eye
could see. One shuddered at the thought of what would become of anyone who
lost his way there, since for miles and miles there was no water to be seen
and no trail to go by. It made one hurry back to the safety of the lager,
trusting to the capability of the guide.
To our great joy, the first spring
contained water. It was a large pool surrounded by rocks, where the game was
accustomed to drink. We arrived there towards afternoon, rested a few hours,
and continued our journey with fresh courage. As the waggons moved too
slowly for our liking, we rode on ahead; but the consequence was that, when
it got dark and we off-saddled, we had no bedding, for nearly all the
waggons were obliged to outspan when darkness set in, as there was no road.
We knee-haltered our horses in case
there were lions about, and collected a large quantity of wood to keep the
fire going all night. That night our talk, of course, ran upon lion-hunting
and shooting expeditions. Then we crept as close to the fire as possible,
and were soon in a troubled, or untroubled, sleep, dreaming of lions and
other wild animals. But I felt the cold very much, and could not sleep
without my rug, and kept turning from side to side to get as much warmth
from the fire as possible. If only I had made two fires! In a battle I have
been between two fires, and did not find it at all agreeable, but in this
case it would have been different.
I lay awake, waiting for the third
fire, the red dawn, but not in a poetical mood. There is a time for
everything; that I learnt during the war. Rain is lovely, and cold gives
energy, but one must be warm to appreciate it. As I lay thus, four mules,
tethered together, came closer and closer up to our fire, grazing all the
while. I lay still, listening to the peculiar noise made by the biting off
of each mouthful of grass. I seemed to expect a joke, and suddenly one of
the mules fell on his back. In a moment all our heroes were up and ready to
defend themselves against lions or khakies, according to their different
dreams. I laughed, and laughed again, so that the hyenas could hear me a
mile off, and the startled lion-hunters began to laugh also, so that we woke
up the whole camp. This little episode made my blood circulate, so that I
very soon also was in the land of dreams.
As the burghers chased all the game
on ahead of the lager, the President and Commandant Boshoff agreed to go in
advance, so as to have a chance of seeing the numerous kinds of wild buck
and larger game. I went with them. Greatly to my distress I forgot to ask
our guide what direction we would take that day with regard to the sun. An
experienced hunter would not have forgotten it, as he knows from experience
that in the excitement of the chase we often leave the beaten track. I had
to pay dearly for my forgetfulness. I rode some distance to the left of the
President, but took care to keep him in sight. But the Boer is wonderfully
disobedient to any authority, and not long after two men made their
appearance to my left, and I saw that if I did not look out they would be
ahead of me in no time, and chase all the game away from me. As the donga
next to which we rode seemed to be a favourite resort for game, I took the
same direction as they did, more to the left. The dongas ran into each other
with numerous bends and curves, and were sometimes overgrown with high
grass, then again quite bare. I paid no attention to the direction we took.
After a while one of the men wounded
a buck, and they both rode into the donga after it. I rode on, to cross the
donga a little further on, so as not to have to follow in the track of the
other two, and saw a red buck on the other side, which I wounded so badly
that it seemed unnecessary to fire again, and I rode leisurely towards it.
But when I had crossed the donga the buck had disappeared, and I began to
seek for the traces of blood, but I soon had to give up the search, not to
lose sight of the other two men. They, however, seemed to be a great
distance off, as I did not overtake them, and I did not succeed in tracing
them in the direction that the wounded buck had led them, as the track in
the grass was invisible to my inexperienced eye.
I rode back to the donga, and
deliberated on the course to take. In all directions I heard shots, right
and left, but I stood irresolute. I had no watch with me to find the four
quarters of the wind, but the sun had only just risen, and I made a guess
with an imaginary compass. It was lucky for me that I made such a good
guess, and had paid great attention to the direction we had taken with
regard to the sun. I was certain that I should come upon the traces of the
lager if only I kept within the sides of a right angle, unless the lager had
at the start taken a sharp turn to the right or left.
But it was possible that in our
excitement we might have crossed the waggon track which the lager was to
follow; then the lager would be far to the right. Standing thus like the ass
between two bundles of hay, I was not in the mood to think lightly of my
case, but had to act at once, so I chose the safest and more probable of the
two sides of my right angle--namely, the left, as I would then in any case
not be moving towards Portuguese territory, and could always turn to the
Krokodil River.
I felt pretty certain now, as it was
more probable that we had not crossed the old waggon tract, and every moment
I expected to hear the switching of the long whips. But when I had gone some
distance I was obliged to return to the donga, and retrace my way to the
place where we had slept. A clever Boer would have succeeded in finding the
way back, but I soon lost my way altogether. I lost the traces of the
horse's hoofs, and the dongas looked to me so different that in one place
where a donga branched off I did not know which to follow. An intense
feeling of desolation took possession of me. Lost in a wilderness without
food or water! I thought of the twelve or thirteen men who got lost in this
wood on a hunting expedition, and of whom only one was saved. A great fear
came upon me. Gradually I became calmer, and tried to form some plan of
action. I resolved to keep to the left, where I had already seen a solitary
mountain. Perhaps water was to be found there.
My gun was loaded with Dum-Dum
bullets, specially prepared for bucks. I had filed through the steel to the
lead, so that the bullet would expand at once when it came into contact with
bone. I found a buck tame in its very wildness, but I missed it, for the aim
of my gun, a fine sporting Mauser, had been bent by the branches of the
trees. It was a good thing that I did not come across a lion, or, rather,
that a lion did not come across me.
I had to ride under trees, through
shrubs and grass, and had to keep a sharp look-out, as the king of beasts
sometimes takes the lords of creation unawares. And I had to look out for an
opportunity to shoot a buck--the only food within my reach. The nearer I
came to the mountain, the surer I was that I had lost my way completely, and
the more I became reconciled to my fate. I planned how I should build a
large fire in the night for myself and my horse, and how I should defend
myself against a lion with a burning piece of wood.
Suddenly my horse went faster and
pushed to the left. Greatly to my astonishment, I saw that the attraction
was a little stream of water that he had scented in a donga. I off-saddled,
and let my horse graze in the luxuriant grass.
Now I was strengthened in my belief
that I had taken the wrong direction, for we were all under the impression
that we should not soon reach water. I prepared some more Dum-Dum bullets
with a small file that I carried in my pocket, and did not let my horse
graze long, but hastened to the mountain to find a better shelter for the
night. To my great joy, I came upon the wide road about a thousand paces
further on. I followed the road along the mountain for half an hour, when I
came upon the lager, camped near a stream--probably the same stream at which
I and my horse had quenched our thirst.
As we sat round our fires that night
we heard shots fired in the distance from the direction that we had come.
Some men were sent out immediately, and returned after a while with a man
quite exhausted from hunger and thirst, and paralyzed with fear; he had been
unable to overtake the lager.
