The Giraffe Hunters

According to his own account, he had been hard at work on his farm throughout all that day, and in the rain. Why, then, should he not cheer himself after such protracted exposure? The “smoke” was the very thing to do it. His guests were welcome to the best his house could afford, and all the compensation he would ask in return for his hospitality would be the satisfaction of seeing them make themselves at home.

On the part of the boer there was a strong determination to make his guests intoxicated; but this was not observed by them. They only believed that his hospitality was pushed a little too far, – so much so as to be rather annoying. But this was a fault they had observed in many, who were only trying to put on their best behaviour, and, considering its unselfishness, it could be readily excused.

Notwithstanding the many hardships Groot Willem and his companions had endured in their various excursions, they had never deemed it necessary to use ardent spirits to excess; and the frequent and earnest entreaties of the boer, backed by his fat and rather good-looking “vrow,” could not induce them to depart from their usual practice of abstemiousness. The boer pretended to be sorry at his inability to entertain his youthful guests.

Notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary, however, the hunters passed a long and pleasant evening by his fireside.

The supper provided for them, as well as everything else, except some of their host’s hunting stories, was very good. It was so seldom that the man had an opportunity of entertaining guests, that it seemed ingratitude on their part to deprive him of the pleasure he enjoyed; and, yielding to his solicitations, they did not retire until a late hour.

But there had been one chapter in the conversation of the evening to which none of our adventurers listened with much pleasure. It was a statement made by the boer, after he had partaken of several glasses of the “smoke.”

“Ish ver shorry you go get the money for the two cameels,” said he. “Mine two bruders and mine vrow’s bruder stand chance to lose it now. Ish ver shorry for them, you know.”

On further conversation it was discovered that his two brothers and a brother of his wife had left for the north seven months before, on a hunting excursion, their principal object being to procure the two young giraffes for which the reward of five hundred pounds had been offered. They were to visit the country of the Bakwains, and had taken with them a native servant who belonged to that tribe. Their return was hourly expected, and had been so for more than a month, though nothing had been heard of them since their departure.

It was but natural that the boer should prefer that his own kinsmen might obtain the reward, instead of a party of strangers; and his having so candidly expressed his regrets in that regard was rather a circumstance in his favour. His guests ascribed it to his open, straightforward manner, made a little more free by application of the “smoke.”

It was not until an old Dutch clock in a corner of the kitchen had struck two, that the young men – who pleaded their fatigue after a long day’s march – were allowed to retire to their beds.

They were shown into a large room, where a good soft couch had been prepared for each of them. Their arduous journeying seemed nearly over; for they had reached a place where people slept with their faces screened from the faint light of the stars, and without depending on the nature of the earth beneath them for the quality of their couch.

Chapter Sixty Four.

“Strayed or Stolen.”

It was not until ten o’clock next morning that Hans awoke and then aroused his companions.

“We should be ashamed of ourselves,” exclaimed Willem, as he hastily commenced making his toilet. “We have swallowed too much smoke and overslept ourselves!”

“No,” answered Hans, who was always anxious to prove himself the philosopher of the company. “We should rather feel pride in the circumstance that the small quantity we drank has produced so great an effect. It is proof that we have not been in the habit of indulging in the use of ardent spirits, and that pride we should ever strive to maintain.”

The travellers were soon in the presence of their host and hostess, whom they found waiting to do the honours of a well-appointed breakfast, to which each of the hunters except Willem sat down. Willem could not be contented to eat, until he had looked to the property in which he professed to have a much greater interest than his companions, and he would not sit down to the breakfast-table till he had paid a visit to his darling giraffes.

Walking out of the house he went toward the sheds where the cattle and native servants had been housed for the night. On entering the hut where he had left his black companion the evening before, he had before him a melancholy evidence of the evils of intemperance. The four Makololo were rolling about upon the floor, moaning heavily, as though in the last agonies of death.

Swartboy and Congo, more accustomed to the effects of strong drink, only showed by their heavy breathing that they were endeavouring to recover from their night’s debauch by indulging in a sound slumber.

They were quickly roused to consciousness by Willem, who used the toe of his boot for the purpose; though even this rude appliance had no effect on any of the four Makololo.

The Kaffir sprang to his feet, and, as though trying to carry his head in his hands, reeled out of the room. He was followed by his master, who saw that all efforts at inducing the Makololo to resume their journey would be for several hours unavailable.

On moving around to the shed where the two giraffes had been tied, Willem was somewhat alarmed by an indescribable expression seen on the features of Congo.

The eyes seemed as if about to start from the Kaffir’s head!

The distance between his chin and nose had alarmingly extended, and his whole appearance formed a frightful picture of astonishment and fear.

To Willem there needed no explanation. One glance was enough.

The camelopards were gone!

The Bushman and Kaffir had promised to watch over them in turns, and had both neglected their duty by getting drunk.

Willem uttered not one word of reproach. Hope, fear, and chagrin kept him for a moment silent.

Within his mind was struggling a faint idea that the giraffes had been removed by some servants of the boer to a place not far-away, – perhaps to a more secure shed.

This hope was dashed with the fear that they had been stolen, or had helped themselves to freedom, and might never again be found.

During the first moments of his agony and despair Groot Willem had the good sense to blame himself. He had been as negligent as either of the two terror-stricken men now standing before him.

He should not have left to others the sole care of what he prized so highly. For the sake of a few hours of better fare than that to which he had lately been accustomed, why had he neglected to look after a prize that had cost so many toils and so much time in obtaining? Why could he not have lived a few days longer, as he had done for so many months, watchful, thoughtful, – on the alert? All would then have been well.

A search of five minutes among the huts and sheds told him that the giraffes were certainly gone.

The task was to recover them. Directing Swartboy and Congo to make all the inquiries they could, as to the time and manner of their disappearance, the great hunter turned despairingly towards the house to communicate to his companions the misfortune that had befallen them.

The news took away every appetite. The grand breakfast prepared by the vrow and her dusky handmaidens was likely to remain uneaten; for all, starting up from their seats, hastened towards the shed where the giraffes had been confined.

The hospitable boer expressed a keen sympathy for their misfortune, and declared his willingness to spend a month, if need be, with all his servants, in the recovery of the lost camelopards.

“All dish comes of dranking do mush smokes,” said he. “Mine beoples last night all got more so drunk; put dey must do so no more. I shall spill all de smokes on the ground, and puy no more forever.”

One of the giraffes had been tied to a post forming part of the shed in which they had been shut up. The post had not only been torn out of the earth, but from its fastenings at the top, and was lying on the ground, six or eight paces from where it had formerly stood. Two other posts adjoining had been pushed down, making a breach in the enclosure sufficiently large for the giraffes to have made their exit.

Had they been tied to trees as usual, they could not have escaped. The rheims around their slender necks would have held them.

Perhaps by the weight and strength of their bodies they had pushed down the stockade, and the rheims had slipped over the ends of the posts after they had fallen. In this manner they might have escaped. But, though it seemed simple enough, still there was something strange in it, and our travellers thought so.

The captives had lately shown no disposition to get free, and it was odd they should do so now. Moreover there must have been a premeditated, jointly-contrived plan between them, and this could hardly be supposed to exist.

They were gone, however, and must be sought for and brought back.

For this duty Congo was already making preparations, though with very little prospect of success. Rain had been falling heavily all the night, and had destroyed any chance of the lost animals being tracked, even by Spoor’em.

Within a large enclosure, contiguous to the boer’s dwelling, more than five hundred cattle had been penned up during the eight. These had been turned out to graze that morning, and, in consequence, the ground was everywhere covered with the hoof-marks of horses and cattle.

A full hour was spent in finding a track that could, with any certainty, be pronounced that of a giraffe, and this had been made by the animal going in the direction of the sheds. Of course it was the spoor of the camelopards when first led up on the evening before.

“Hendrik,” exclaimed Willem, nearly frantic with despair; “what shall we do? Those giraffes are somewhere, and must be found.”

“They are just as likely to have gone in one direction as another,” answered Hendrik, “and suppose we look for them in the direction of Graaf Reinet.”

This remark but increased Willem’s despair, for it showed an unwillingness on the part of his comrade to make any farther delay on account of their misfortune.

The boer declared himself willing to furnish horses and men for a search, if the hunters could ascertain, with any certainty, the direction the runaways had taken.

Hans now volunteered a bit of advice, which was listened to by Willem, as being the most sensible yet given.

“Our late captives,” said that philosopher, “have made the most of a good opportunity for escaping. It was, no doubt, done under an instinct; and the same instinct will be likely to guide them back toward their native land. If we go in search of them, let the search be made in the direction from whence they came.”

“Mine poys,” broke in the boer, “dare ish no use lookin’ if they goed that way. Dey will not wait fast enough for anypoddy to catch up to ’em.”

Hendrik and Arend expressed themselves of the same opinion.

“Congo, you black scoundrel!” exclaimed Willem, “where are our giraffes? Which way shall we look for them?”

In answer to this question the bewildered Kaffir could only shake his aching head.

Willem had great faith in Congo’s instinct, and was not satisfied with the limited information received from him.

“Do you think, Congo, we had better follow the spoor we made in coming here?” he asked.

Again the Kaffir shook his head.

“You sooty idiot!” exclaimed the distracted questioner, “answer me in some other way. No more wabbling of your head, or I’ll break it for you.”

“I don’t think at all now, baas Willem,” said Congo. “My head feel too big for the question you put ’um.”

Hendrik was about to observe that there was a vast difference between the Kaffir and his master, but, not wishing to vex the latter any more, he proposed that something should be done besides talking.

“Hans,” exclaimed Willem, “you stay here and look after our property. All the others who wish it can come along with me; but whoever does must get into his saddle in the shortest possible time. I’m off this instant in search of the fugitives.”

So saying, Groot Willem made a rush towards the shed under which his horse had been stabled, and, putting on the saddle with his own hands, he sprang into it and rode hastily away.

Chapter Sixty Five.

The Last of a Family

Hendrik and Arend, who had imitated his movements, alone followed Groot Willem from the house. The boer, after promising so much, appeared so dilatory in his preparations that no dependence could be placed on his aid and the three hunters galloped off without waiting for any of the farm, or any of his servants, of whom they had seen several. His excuse for not making more haste to provide help was, that no one could tell the direction in which the runaways had gone, and that to search for them in the north, when the animals might have strayed south, was sheer silliness.

Much to the surprise or all, Congo had stayed behind instead of accompanying Groot Willem, according to universal custom. The Kaffir’s solicitude for the safety of his young master had been so great on all former occasions, and he had shown such an unwillingness to be separated from him, that his present behaviour was a surprise to everybody who knew him. He was allowed to have his own will and way, for it was known that any efforts at making him useful, by denying him this privilege, would be of no avail. True and faithful as he had ever shown himself, his actions were seldom controlled by the others.

“As soon as we get a mile or two away from the house,” said Hendrik, “we may be able to discover their tracks. It is no use our examining the ground over which so many cattle have passed. But supposing we should learn that we are on the right course, what then, Willem?”

“Then we must follow it till the giraffes are retaken,” answered Willem. “I should have but little hope of catching them again,” he continued, “did I not know that they are now quite tame. I should as soon think of my own horse absconding, and going a hundred miles into the wilderness, to avoid me. We shall find the giraffes if we persevere; and, once found, they won’t hinder us from catching them.”

From the quiet behaviour of the giraffes for the last three weeks, Arend and Hendrik could not deny the truth of Willem’s assertions; and all three urged their horses forward, more anxious than ever to come upon the spoor of the strays.

After passing beyond the ground tracked by the farm cattle, they once more came out upon the so-called road, along which they had travelled the day before. But for more than a mile, after the most careful examination, no spoor of giraffe, old or young, was to be seen. Even those made by them on the day before could no longer be distinguished in the dust. The rain, with the tracks of other animals coming after, had obliterated them. The state of the ground they were examining was now favourable for receiving a permanent impression; and, as none appeared, they became satisfied that the runaways had not returned that way.

After a long consultation which came near ending in a wrangle, Willem being opposed by his companions, it was decided that they should ride round in a circle of which the dwelling of the boer should be the centre. By so doing, the spoor of the lost animals should be found. It was the only plan for them to take, and slowly they rode on, feeling very uncomfortable at the uncertainty that surrounded them.

The country over which they were riding was a poor pasture with patches of thinly growing grass. A herd of cattle and horses, old and young, had lately gone over the ground, and often would the eye catch sight of tracks so like those made by a giraffe that one of the party would dismount for a closer examination before being able to decide.

To Groot Willem this slow process was torturing in the extreme. He believed that the giraffes were each moment moving farther away from the place.

After the search had been continued for nearly two hours, a spoor was at length found that was unmistakably that of a camelopard. With a shout of joy Willem turned his horse and commenced taking it up. It was fresh, – made but a few hours before.

Under the excitement of extreme fortune, whether it be good or bad, people do not act with much wisdom.

So thought Hendrik as he called the attention of Willem to the fact that they had started out for the purpose of finding the spoor but not following it; that they would require the help of Congo and Spoor’em; that they must provide themselves with food and other articles necessary for a two or three days’ journey.

Believing that, by the time they could go back to the house and return, the giraffes would gain a distance of not less than ten or fifteen miles, Hendrik’s suggestions seemed absurd, and his companion, without heeding them, kept on along the trail.

Hendrik and Arend could do nothing but follow. Before they had gone very far, Arend made the observation that the tracks they were now following appeared too large to have been made by the young giraffes.

“That’s all a fancy of yours,” rejoined Willem, as he hurried on.

“There appears to have been only one that went this way,” said Hendrik, after they had gone a little farther.

“Never mind,” answered Willem, “we have no time to look for the other. It won’t be far away from its companion, and we shall probably find them together.”

Notwithstanding what Willem said, his comrades were convinced that they were following the track of only one giraffe, and that larger than either of those that had been lost. They again ventured to give their opinion about it.

“Nonsense!” exclaimed Willem. “There has not been a giraffe in this part of the country for the last ten years, except the two we ourselves brought here.”

This statement would have been indorsed by every settler for a hundred miles around. For all that, it was a wrong one, as our adventurers soon had reason to be convinced.

Before they had gone another mile, the large body and lofty head of a giraffe loomed up before their eyes! On seeing it, they put spurs to their horses and rode straight toward it. They got within about three hundred yards of it before their approach was discovered.

For the first ten minutes of the chase that then ensued, the distance between the hunters and the retreating giraffe remained about the same.

Gradually it began to diminish. The giraffe appeared to become exhausted with only a slight exertion; and on reaching a piece of marshy ground, where its feet sunk into the mud, it made a violent struggle and then fell over on its side.

On riding forward to the spot, the hunters had an explanation of why the chase was so soon over. They were only surprised that the creature had been able to run at all.

It proved to be an ancient male of which but little was left but the skin and bones.

It looked as though it was the last of its race, about to become extinct.

On its back and other parts of its body were lumps as large as walnuts, the scars of old wounds, where musket-bullets had been lodged in its body several years before!

The rusty head of an arrow was also seen protruding from its side.

It had the appearance of having been hunted for a score of years, and hundreds of times to have been within an inch of losing its life.

Its enemy, man, had overtaken it at last, and was gazing upon its struggling not with exultation, but rather with pity and regret.

They felt no triumph in having run down and captured a thing that had been so long struggling with death. Groot Willem, who had been for a time highly elated with the prospect of recovering the lost giraffes, was again in great despondence. Much time had been squandered in this purposeless pursuit.

He was not one to yield easily to despair; and yet despair was now upon him. There was every symptom of a dark night coming down, and it was now near. Inspired either by pity or revenge, he sent a bullet from his roer into the head of the struggling skeleton; and, throwing himself into the saddle, he turned the head of his horse once more towards the house.

An attempt had been made to recover the lost giraffes. It had failed. Night was close at hand. Nothing more could be done for that day, and Willem now declared his willingness to return to Graaf Reinet and die.

Hope had departed from his heart, and he no longer felt a desire to live.

Hendrik and Arend, although sympathising with him in their common misfortune, exchanged looks of congratulation. They would now be permitted to go home.

Chapter Sixty Six.

News of the Lost

The sky had been overclouded all day, and continued so as the sun went down. Over them descended a night as dark as Erebus.

Perceiving the impracticability of getting that night to the house of the boer, – a distance of ten or fifteen miles, – the disappointed trackers dismounted, and staked their horses upon the grass, determined to wait for the return of another day.

The night was passed in fitful slumbers around a camp-fire, where they were only visited by a flight of large moths, and some laughing hyenas, that by their harsh cachinations seemed to mock them in their misery.

They were in a district of country from which the most noble of its denizens seemed to have been driven, and the most despicable only remained. When morning dawned they again climbed into their saddles and continued on towards the kraal of the boer.

When, as they supposed, within about five miles of the house, they met two strange horsemen coming in the opposite direction.

“Goot morgen, shentlemens!” saluted one of the strangers as they drew near. “I’m glat to meet some ones coming your ways. Hash you seen anything of our horses?”

“Do you mean those you are now riding?” asked Hendrik.

“No, not these, but five other horses, – no, three horses and two mares, – all mitout either sattles or pridles; one red horse mit one eye and a white poot on the left behind leg, one mare mit a star on the front of his head, und – ”

“No,” interrupted Hendrik, “we have been out since yesterday morning, but have seen no stray horses of any description; not a horse except those we are riding ourselves.”

“Then we need not look in the direction you have been,” said the other horseman, who spoke English with a proper accent. “Will you please tell us whence you have come?”

Hendrik gave them a brief history of their course during the last twenty-four hours; and, in doing so, mentioned the object of their expedition, – the search after the giraffes.

“If that’s what you’ve been after,” said the man who spoke proper English, “perhaps we can assist you a little. From what you tell me, I presume you must have been staying at the kraal of Mynheer Van Ormon. Yesterday morning we were looking for our horses about ten miles south of his place, when we saw two giraffes, the first I had ever seen in my life. We were badly mounted, and unprepared for hunting anything except our strayed horses, else we should have given chase.”

“Ten miles to the south of the kraal!” exclaimed Willem, “and we seeking for them twenty to the north. What fools we have been. What were the giraffes doing?” he asked earnestly, turning towards the man who had one more awakened within him the sweet sentiment of hope. “Were they grazing or going on?”

“They were travelling southward at a gentle trot, but increased their speed on seeing us. We were not within a quarter of a mile of them.”

Our adventurers were too impatient to stay longer on the spot; and, after getting a few further directions, they bade the strangers good day and hastened on towards the house.

On entering its enclosure the first person they encountered was the boer Mynheer Van Ormon.

“I see pat luck mit you, mine poys,” said the Dutchman, as they rode up to him. “I knowed it would pe so. The cameels have goed too far for you.”

“Yes, too far to the south,” answered Willem. “We have heard of them, and must be off immediately. Where are our companions?”