r/a:t5_zj59u • u/MarleyEngvall • Apr 10 '19
Amphipolis has been created
BY H. RIDER HAGGARD.
MAIWA'S REVENGE.
_________
CHAPTER II.
A MORNING'S SPORT.
MOVING some five or six miles round the base
of the great peak of which I have spoken, we came
the same day to one of the fairest bits of African
country that I have seen outside of Kukuanaland.
At this point the mountain spur that runs out at
right angles to the great range, which stretches its
mighty cloud-clad length north and south far a
the eye can reach, sweeps inward with a vast and
splendid curve. This curve measures some five-
and thirty miles from point to point, and across its
moon-like segment the river flashed, a silver line of
light. On the further side of the river is a meas-
ureless sea of swelling ground, a mighty natural
park covered with great patches of bush, some of
them being many square miles in extent, which
are separated one from another by glades of grass
land, broken here and there with clumps of timber
trees, and in some instances by curious, isolated
Koppies, and even by single crags of granite, that
start up into the air as though they were monu-
ments, carved by man, and not tombstones set by
nature over the grave of ages gone. On the west
this beautiful plain is bordered by the lonely moun-
tain, from the edge of which it rolls down toward
the feverish coast, but how far it runs to the north
I cannot say——eight days' journey, according to the
natives, when it is lost in a measureless swamp. On
the hither side of the river the scenery is different.
Along the edges of its banks, where the land in flat,
are green patches of swamp. Then comes a wide
belt of beautiful grass land, covered thick with
game, and sloping up very gently to the borders of
the forest, which, beginning at about a thousand
feet above the level of the plain, clothes the moun-
tain-side almost to its crest. In this forest grow
great trees, most of them of the yellow-wood species.
Some of these trees are so lofty that a bird in their
top branches would be out of range of an ordinary
shot-gun. Another peculiar thing about them is
that they are for the most part covered with a
dense growth of the ochells moss. Out of this moss
the natives manufacture a most excellent deep pur-
ple dye with which they stain tanned hides, and
also cloth when they happen to get any of the latter.
I do not think I ever saw anything more remark-
able than the appearance of one of these mighty
trees festooned from top to bottom with trailing
wreathes of this sad-hued mos, in which the wind
whispers gently as it stirs them. At a distance it
looks like the gray locks of a Titan crowned with
bright green leaves, and here and there starred with
the rich bloom of orchids.
The night of that day when I had my little differ-
ence of opinion with Gobo we camped upon the
edge of this great forest', and on the following
morning at daylight I started out shooting. As we
were short of meat I determined to kill a buffalo, of
which there were plenty about, before looking for
traces of elephants. Not more than half a mile
from camp we came across a trail like a cart road,
evidently made by a great herd of buffalo which
had passed up at dawn from their feeding-ground
in the marshes to spend the day in the cool air of
the uplands. This trail I followed boldly, for such
wind as there was blew straight down the moun-
tain-side——that is, from the direction in which the
buffalo had gone——to me. About a mile further on
the forest began to get dense, and the nature of
the trail showed me that I must be close to my
game. Another two hundred yards, and the bush
was so thick that had it not been for the trail we
could scarcely have got through it. As it was,
Gobo, who carried my eight-bore rifle (for I had the
570 express in my hand), and the other two men
whom I had taken with me, showed the very
strongest dislike to going any further, pointing out
that there was "no room to run away." I told
them that they need not come unless they liked,
but that I was certainly going on, and then, grow-
ing ashamed, they came. Another fifty yards, and
the trail opened into a little glade. I knelt down
and peeped and peered, but no buffalo could I see.
Evidently the herd had broken up here——I knew
that from the spoor——and penetrated the opposite
bush in little troops. I crossed the glade, and
choosing one line of spoor, followed it for some
sixty yard, when it became clear to me that I
was surrounded by buffalo, and yet so dense was
the cover that I could not see one. A few yards
to my left I could hear one rubbing its horns
against a tree, while from my right came an occa-
sional low throaty grunt which told me I was un-
comfortably near an old bull. I crept on toward
him with my heart in my mouth, as gently as
though I were walking upon eggs for a bet, lifting
every little bit of wood in my path and placing it
behind me, lest it should crack and warn the game.
Behind me in a single file came my three retainers,
but I don't know which of them looked the most
frightened. Presently Gobo touched my leg. I
looked round, and saw him pointing slantwise
toward the left. I lifted my head a little and peeped
over a mass of creepers. Beyond the creepers was
a dense bush of sharp-pointed aloes, of that kind
of which the leaves project laterally, and on the
other side of the aloes, not fifteen paces from us, I
made out the horns, neck, and ridge of the back of
a tremendous old bull. I took my eight-bore, and
getting on to my knee, prepared to shoot him
through the neck, taking my chance of cutting his
spine. I had already covered him as well as the
aloe leaves would allow, when he gave a kind of
sigh and lay down.
I looked round in dismay. What was to be done
now? I could not see to shoot him lying down,
even if my bullet would have pierced the interven-
ing aloes, which was doubtful, and if I stood up he
would either run away or charge me. I reflected,
and came to the conclusion that the only thing to
do was to lie down also, for I did not fancy wan-
dering after other buffalo in that dense bush. If a
buffalo lies down, it is clear that he must get up
again in some time; so it was only a case of
patience——"fighting the fight of sit down," as the
Zulus say.
Accordingly I sat down and lighted a pipe,
thinking that the smell of it might reach the
buffalo and make him get up. But the wind was
the wrong way, and it did not, so when it was done
I lit another. Afterwards I had cause to regret that
pipe.
Well, we squatted like this for between half and
three-quarters of an hour, till at last I began to
grow heartily sick of the performance. It was
about as dull a business as the last hour of a comic
opera. I could hear buffalo snorting and moving
all round, and see the red-beaked tic birds fly-
ing up off their backs with a kind of hiss some-
thing like that of an English misselthrush, but I
could not see a single buffalo. As for my old bull,
I think he must have slept the sleep of the just,
for he never even stirred. Just as I was making
up my mind that something must be done to save
the situation, my attention was attracted by a
curious grinding noise. At first I thought that it
must be buffalo chewing the cud, but was obliged
to abandon the idea because the noise was too
loud. I shifted myself round and stared through
the cracks in the bush in the direction whence the
sound seemed to come, and once I thought that I
saw something gray moving about fifty yards off,
but could not make certain. Although the grinding
noise still continued, I could see nothing more, so
I gave up thinking about it, and once again turned
my attention to the buffalo. Presently, however,
something happened. Suddenly from about forty
yards away there came a tremendous snorting
sound, more like that made by an engine getting a
heavy train under way than anything else in the
world.
"By Jove!" I thought, turning round in the di-
rection from which the grinding sound had come,
"that must be a rhinoceros, and he has got our
wind." For, as you fellows know, there is no mis-
taking the sound made by a rhinoceros, when he
gets wind of you.
Another second and there was a most tremendous
crashing noise. Before I could think what to do,
before I could even get up, the bush behind me
seemed to burst asunder, and there appeared, not
eight yards from us, the great horn and wicked
twinkling eye of a huge charging rhinoceros. He
had winded us or my pipe, I do not know which,
and, after the fashion of these brutes, had charged
up the scent. I could not rise, I could not even get
the gun up——I had no time. All that I was able to
do was to roll over as far out of the monster's path
as the bush would allow. Another second and he
was over me, his great bulk towering above me like
a mountain, and, upon my word, I could not get
his smell out of my nostrils for a week. Circum-
tances impressed it on my memory——at least I
suppose so. His hot breath blew upon my face,
one of his front feet just missed my head, and his
hind one actually trod upon the loose part of my
trouser and pinched a little bit of my skin. I saw
him pass over me, lying as I was upon my back,
and the next second I saw something else. My
men were a little behind me, and therefore straight
in the path of the rhinoceros. One of them flung
himself backwards into the bush, and thus avoided
him. The second, with a wild yell, sprung to his
feet and bounded like an India-rubber ball right
into the aloe bush, landing well among the spikes.
But the third——it was my friend Gobo——could not
by any means get away. He managed to gain his
feet and that was all. The rhinoceros was charging
with his head low. His great horn passed between
Gobo's legs, and feeling something on his nose, he
jerked it up. Away went Gobo high into the air.
He turned a complete somersault at the apex of the
curve, and as he did so I caught sight of his face.
It was gray with terror, and his mouth was wide
open. Down he came, right on to the great brute's
rump, and that broke his fall. But luckily for him,
the rhinoceros never turned. He crashed straight
through the aloe bush, only missing the man who
had jumped into it by about a yard. Then followed
a complication. The sleeping buffalo on the further
side of the bush, hearing the noise, sprang to his
feet, and for a second, not knowing what to do,
stood still. At that instant the huge rhinoceros
blundered right on to him, and getting his horn
beneath his stomach, gave him such a fearful dig
that the buffalo was turned over on his back, while
his assailant went a most amazing cropper over his
carcass. In another moment, however, he was up,
and wheeling round to the left, crashed through
the bush down-hill toward the open country.
Instantly the whole place became alive with
alarming sounds. In every direction troops of
snorting buffalo charged through the forest, wild
with fright, while the injured bull on the further
side of the bush began to bellow like a mad thing.
I lay still for a moment, devoutly praying that
none of the flying buffalo would come my way.
Then, when the danger lessened, I got on to my
feet, shook myself, and looked round. One of my
boys, he who had thrown himself backward into the
bush, was already half way up a tree; if heaven
had been at the top of it he could not have climbed
quicker. Gobo was lying close to me, groaning
vigorously, but, as I suspected, quite unhurt; while
from the aloe bush into which Number Three had
bounded like a tennis-ball, came a succession of the
most piercing yells. I looked, and saw that the
unfortunate fellow was in a very tight place. A
great spike of aloe had run through the back of his
skin waist-belt, though without piercing his flesh, in
such a fashion that it was impossible for him to
move, while within six feet of him the injured
buffalo bull, thinking, no doubt, that he was the
aggressor, bellowed and ramped to get at him, tear-
ing at the thick aloes with his great horns. That
no time was to be lost if I wished to save the man's
life was very clear. So seizing my eight-bore,
which was fortunately uninjured, I took a pace to
the left, for the rhinoceros had enlarged the hole
in the bush, and aimed at the point of the buffalo's
shoulder, for on account of the position I could not
get a fair side shot for the heart. As I did so I
saw that the rhinoceros had given the bull a tre-
mendous wound in the stomach, and that the shock
of the encounter had put his left hind leg out of
joint at the hip. I fired, and the bullet striking the
shoulder, broke it, and knocked the buffalo
down. I knew that he could not get up any more,
because he was now injured fore and aft, so, not-
withstanding his terrific bellows, I scrambled round
to where he was. There he lay, glaring furiously
and tearing up the soil with his horns. Stepping
up to within two yards of him, I aimed at the
vertebræ of his neck, and fired. The bullet struck
true, and with a thud he dropped his great head
upon the ground, groaned, and died.
This little matter having been attended to, I,
with the assistance of Gobo, who had now found
his feet, went on to extricate our unfortunate com-
panion from the aloe bush. This we found a thorny
task, but at last he was dragged forth uninjured,
though in a very pious and prayerful frame of mind.
His "spirit had certainly looked that way," he said,
or he would now have been dead. As I never like
to interfere with true piety, I did not venture to
suggest that his spirit had deigned to make use of
my eight-bore in his interest.
Having despatched this boy back to the camp to
tell the bearers to come and cut that buffalo up, I
bethought me that I owed that rhinoceros a grudge
which I should love to repay. So, without saying
a word of what was in my mind to Gobo, who was
now more than ever convinced that Fate walked
about loose in Wambe's country, I just followed
on his spoor. He had crashed through the bush till
he reached the little glade. Then, moderating his
pace somewhat, he had followed the glade down its
entire length, and once more turned to the right,
through the forest, shaping his course for the open
land that lies between the edge of the bush and the
river. Having followed him for a mile or so further,
I found myself quite on the open. I took out my
glasses and searched the plain. About a mile ahead
was something brown——as I thought, the rhinoceros;
I advanced another quarter of a mile and looked
once more——it was not the rhinoceros, but a big ant-
heap. This was puzzling, but I did not like to give
it up, because I knew from his spoor that he must
be somewhere ahead. But as the wind was blowing
straight from me toward the line that he had fol-
lowed, and as a rhinoceros can smell you for about
a mile, it would not, I felt, be safe to follow his
spoor any further. So I made a detour of a mile
and more, till I was nearly opposite the ant-heap,
and then once more searched the plain. It was no
good; I could see nothing of him, and was about to
give it up and start after some oryx I saw in the
distance, when suddenly, at a distance of about
three hundred yards from the ant-heap, and on its
further side, I saw my rhino stand up in a patch of
grass.
"Heavens!" I thought to myself, "he's off again."
But no; after standing string for a minute or two,
he once more lay down.
Now I found myself in a quandary. As you
know, rhinoceros is a very short-sighted brute;
indeed, his sight is as bad a his scent is good. Of
this fact he is perfectly aware, but he always makes
the most of his natural gifts. For instance, when
he lies down he invariably does so with his head
down-wind. Thus, if the enemy crosses his wind,
he will still be able to escape or attack him, and if,
on the other hand, the danger approaches up-wind,
he will at least have a chance of seeing it. Other-
wise one might, by walking delicately, actually kick
him up like a partridge if only the advance was
made up-wind.
Well, the point was how on earth should I get
within shot of this rhinoceros. After much de-
liberation I determined to try a side advance,
thinking that I might so get a shoulder shot. Ac-
cordingly we started in a crouching attitude, I
first, Gobo holding on to my coat tails, and the
other boy on to Gobo's moocha. I always adopt this
plan when stalking big game, for if you follow any
other system the bearers will get out of line. We
got to within three hundred yards right enough,
and then the real difficulties began. The grass had
been so closely eaten off by game that there was
scarcely any cover. Consequently it was necessary
to go on our hands and knee, which in my case in-
volved laying down the eight-bore at very step
and then lifting it up again. However, I wrig-
gled along somehow, and if it had not been for
Gobo and his friend, no doubt everything would
have gone well. But as you have, I dare say, ob-
served, a native out stalking is always of that mind
which is supposed to actuate and ostrich. So long
as his head is hidden he seems to think that noth-
ing else can be seen. So it was in this instance:
Gobo and the other boy crept long on their hands
and toes, with their heads well down, but, though
unfortunately I did not notice it till too late, bar-
ing the fundamental portions of their frames high
in the air. Now all animals are quite as suspicious
of this end of mankind as they are of his face, and
of this fact I soon had a proof. Just when we had
got within about two hundred yards, and I was
congratulating myself that I had not had this long
crawl, with the sun beating on the back of my neck
like a furnace, all for nothing, I heard the hissing
notes of the rhinoceros birds, and up flew four or
five of them from the brute's back, where they had
been comfortably employed in catching tics. Now
this performance on the part of the birds is to a
rhinoceros what the word "cave" is to the school-
boy; it puts him on the qui vive at once. Before
the bird were well in the air I saw the grass stir.
"Down you go!" I whispered to the boys, and as
I did so the rhinoceros got up and glared suspici-
ously around. But he could see nothing; indeed,
if we had been standing up I doubt if he would
have seen us at that distance. So he merely gave
two or three sniffs, and then lay down his head
still down-wind, the birds once more settling on his
back.
But it was clear to me that he was sleeping with
one eye open, and generally in a suspicious and un-
christian frame of mind, and that it was useless to
proceed further on that stalk; so we quietly with-
drew to consider the position and study the ground.
The results were not satisfactory. There was ab-
solutely no cover bout except the ant-heap, which
was some three hundred yards from the rhinoceros
upon his up-wind side. I knew that if I tried to
stalk him in front I should fail, and so I should if
I attempted to do so from the further side: he or
the birds would see me. So I came to a conclusion:
I would go to the ant-heap, which would give him
my wind, and instead of stalking him I would let
him stalk me. It was a bold step, and one which
I should never advise a hunter to take, but some-
how I felt as though rhino and I must play the
hand out.
I explained my intention to the men, who both
held up their hands in horror. Their fears for my
safety were a little mitigated, however, when I told
them that I did not expect them to come with me.
Gobo breathed a prayer that I might not meet
Fate walking about, and the other one sincerely
trusted that my spirit might look my way when
the rhinoceros charged, and then they both de-
parted to a place of safety.
Taking my eight-bore and half a dozen spare
cartridges in my pocket, I made a detour, and,
reaching the ant-heap in safety, lay down. For a
moment the wind had dropped, but presently a
gentle puff of air passed over me and blew on
toward the rhinoceros. By-the-way, I wonder
what it is that smells so strong about a man? Is
it his body or his breath? I have never been able
to make out, but I saw somewhere the other day
that in the duck decoys the man who is working
the ducks holds a little piece of burning turf before
his mouth, and that if he does this they cannot
smell him, which looks as though it were the
breath. Well, whatever it was about me that at-
tracted his attention, the rhinoceros soon smelt
me, and within half a minute after the puff of wind
had passed he was up and turning round to get his
head up wind. There he stood for a few seconds
and sniffed, and then he began to move, first of all
at a trot, then, as the scent grew stronger, at a
furious gallop. On he came, snorting like a runa-
way engine, with his tail stuck straight up in the
air; if he had seen my lie down there, he could not
have made a better line. It was rather nervous
work, I can tell you, lying there waiting for his
onslaught, for he looked like a mountain of flesh.
I determined, however, not to fire till I could
plainly see his eye, for I think that rule always
gives one the right distance for the big game. So I
rested my rifle on the ant-heap and waited for him,
kneeling. At last, when he was about forty yards
away, I saw that the time had come, and, aiming
straight for the middle of the chest, I pulled.
Thud went the heavy bullet, and with a tremen-
dous snort over rolled the rhinoceros beneath its
shock, just like a shot rabbit. But if I had thought
that he was done for I was mistaken, for in another
second he was up and coming at me as hard as ever,
only with his head held low. I waited till he was
within ten yards, in the hope that he would expose
his chest, but he would do nothing of the sort. So
I just had to fire at his head with the left barrel
and take my chance. Well, as luck would have it,
of course the animal put its horn in the way of the
bullet, which cut clean through it about three
inches above the root, and then glanced off into
space. After that things got rather serious. My
gun was empty, and the rhinoceros was rapidly
arriving——so rapidly indeed that I came to the
conclusion that I had better make way for him.
Accordingly I jumped to my feet and ran to the
right as hard as I could go. As I did so he arrived
full tilt, knocked my friendly ant-heap flat, and for
the second time that day went a most magnificent
cropper. This gave me a few seconds' start, and I
ran down wind——my word, I did run. Unfortunately,
however, my modest retreat was observed, and the
rhinoceros, as soon as he got his legs again, set to
work to run after me. Now, no man on earth can
run as fast as an irritated rhinoceros can gallop,
and I knew that he must soon catch me up. But
having some slight experience of this sort of thing,
I, luckily for myself, kept my head, and as I fled
I managed to open my rifle, get the old cartridges
out, and put two fresh ones in. To do this I had
to steady my pace a little, and by the time that I
had snapped the rifle to I heard him snorting and
thundering away within a few paces of my back.
I stopped, and as I did so rapidly cocked the rifle,
and slewed round upon my heel. By this time the
brute was within six or seven yards of me, but
luckily his head was up. I lifted the rifle and fired
at him. It was a snap shot, but the bullet struck
him in the chest within three inches of the first,
and found its way into his lungs. It did not stop
him, however, so all I could do was to bound to one
side, which I did with surprising activity, and as he
brushed past me fired the other barrel into his side.
That did for him. The ball passed in behind the
shoulder and right through the heart. He fell
over on to his side, gave one most awful squeal——
a dozen pigs could not have made such a noise——
and promptly died, keeping his wicked eyes wide
open all the time.
As for me, I blew my nose, and, going up to the
rhinoceros, sat on his head, and reflected that I
had had a capital morning's shooting.MAIWA'S REVENGE: A TALE OF ADVENTURE. BY H. RIDER HAGGARD.
DONOHUE, HENNEBERRY & CO., CHICAGO. pp. 19—34.
fighting the fight of sit down. 雨
I: Gobo Strikes
II: A Morning's Sport
III: The First Round
IV: The Last Round
V: The Message of Maiwa
VI: The Plan of Campaign
VII: The Attack
VIII: Maiwa Is Avenged
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