ship-hills hull-down over the
horizon, and realized that over all
that
extent fed the Game; the ever-new wonder of Africa for the
hundredth time filled my mind-the teeming fecundity of her bosom.
"Look here," said H. without removing his eye from the 'scope,
"just beyond the edge of that shadow to the left of the bushes in
the donga-I've been watching them ten minutes, and I can't make
'em out yet. They're either hyenas
actingmighty queer, or else
two lionesses."
We snatched our glasses and concentrated on that important
detail.
To catch the third experience you must have journeyed with us
across the "Thirst," as the natives picturesquely name the
waterless tract of two days and a half. Our very start had been
delayed by a breakage of some Dutch-sounding
essential to our ox
wagon, caused by the
confusion of a night attack by lions: almost
every night we had lain awake as long as we could to enjoy the
deep-
breathed grumbling or the vibrating roars of these beasts.
Now at last, having pushed through the dry country to the river
in the great plain, we were able to take
breath from our mad
hurry, and to give our attention to affairs beyond the limits of
mere expediency. One of these was getting Billy a shot at a lion.
Billy had never before wanted to shoot anything except a python.
Why a python we could not quite
fathom. Personally, I think she
had some vague idea of getting even for that Garden of Eden
affair. But
lately, pythons proving scarcer than in that favoured
locality, she had switched to a lion. She wanted, she said, to
give the skin to her sister. In vain we
pointed out that a zebra
hide was very
decorative, that lions go to
absurd lengths in
retaining possession of their own skins, and other equally
convincing facts. It must be a lion or nothing; so naturally we
had to make a try.
There are several ways of getting lions, only one of which is at
all likely to afford a steady pot shot to a very small person
trying to manipulate an over-size gun. That is to lay out a kill.
The idea is to catch the lion at it in the early morning before
he has
departed for home. The best kill is a zebra: first,
because lions like zebra; second, because zebra are fairly large;
third, because zebra are very numerous.
Accordingly, after we had pitched camp just within a
fringe of
mimosa trees and of red-flowering aloes near the river; had eaten
lunch, smoked a pipe and issued necessary orders to the men, C.
and I set about the serious work of getting an
appropriate bait
in an
appropriate place.
The plains stretched straight away from the river bank to some
indefinite and unknown distance to the south. A low range of
mountains lay blue to the left; and a
mantle of scrub thornbush
closed the view to the right. This did not imply that we could
see far straight ahead, for the surface of the plain rose slowly
to the top of a swell about two miles away. Beyond it reared a
single butte peak at four or five times that distance.
We stepped from the
fringe of red aloes and squinted through the
dancing heat
shimmer. Near the limit of
vision showed a very
faint glimmering whitish
streak. A
newcomer to Africa would not
have looked at it twice:
nevertheless, it could be nothing but
zebra. These gaudily marked beasts take queer aspects even on an
open plain. Most often they show pure white; sometimes a jet
black; only when within a few hundred yards does one distinguish
the stripes. Almost always they are very easily made out. Only
when very distant and in heat
shimmer, or in certain half lights
of evening, does their
so-called "protective colouration" seem to
be in
working order, and even then they are always quite visible
to the least
expert hunter's scrutiny.
It is not difficult to kill a zebra, though sometimes it has to
be done at a fairly long range. If all you want is meat for the
porters, the matter is simple enough. But when you require bait
for a lion, that; is another affair entirely. In the first place,
you must be able to stalk within a hundred yards of your kill
without being seen; in the second place, you must provide two or
three good lying-down places for your
prospectivetrophy within
fifteen yards of the carcass-and no more than two or three; in
the third place, you must judge the direction of the probable
morning wind, and must be able to approach from leeward. It is
evidently pretty good luck to find an accommodating zebra in just
such a spot. It is a matter of still greater nicety to drop him
absolutely in his tracks. In a case of porters' meat it does not
make any particular difference if he runs a hundred yards before
he dies. With lion bait even fifty yards makes all the difference
in the world.
C. and I talked it over and
resolved to press Scallywattamus into
service. Scallywattamus is a small white mule who is firmly
convinced that each and every bush in Africa
conceals a
mule-eating rhinoceros, and who does not intend to be one of the
number so eaten. But we had noticed that at times zebra would be
so struck with the strange sight of Scallywattamus carrying a
man, that they would let us get quite close. C. was to ride
Scallywattamus while I trudged along under his lee ready to
shoot.
We set out through the heat
shimmer, gradually rising as the
plain slanted. Imperceptibly the camp and the trees marking the
river's course fell below us and into the heat haze. In the
distance, close to the
stream, we made out a blurred, brown-red
solid mass which we knew for Masai cattle. Various little
Thompson's gazelles skipped away to the left waggling their tails
vigorously and
continuously as Nature long since commanded
"Tommies" to do. The heat haze steadied around the dim white
line, so we could make out the individual animals. There were
plenty of them, dozing in the sun. A single tiny treelet broke
the plain just at the skyline of the rise. C. and I talked
low-voiced as we went along. We agreed that the tree was an
excellent
landmark to come to, that the little rise afforded
proper cover, and that in the morning the wind would in all
likelihood blow toward the river. There were perhaps twenty zebra
near enough to the chosen spot. Any of them would do.
But the zebra did not give a hoot for Scallywattamus. At five
hundred yards three or four of them awoke with a start, stared at
us a minute, and moved slowly away. They told all the zebra they
happened upon that the three idiots approaching were at once
uninteresting and dangerous. At four hundred and fifty yards a
half dozen more made off at a trot. At three hundred and fifty
yards the rest plunged away at a canter-all but one. He remained
to stare, but his tail was up, and we knew he only stayed because
he knew he could easily catch up in the next twenty seconds.
The chance was very slim of delivering a knockout at that
distance, but we badly needed meat, anyway, after our march
through the Thirst, so I tried him. We heard the
well-known plunk
of the
bullet, but down went his head, up went his heels, and
away went he. We watched him in vast
disgust. He cavorted out
into a bare open space without cover of any sort, and then
flopped over. I thought I caught a
fleeting grin of delight on
Mavrouki's face; but he knew enough
instantly" target="_blank" title="ad.立即,立刻">
instantly to
conceal his
satisfaction over sure meat.
There were now no zebra
anywhere near; but since nobody ever
thinks of omitting any chances in Africa, I sneaked up to the
tree and took a perfunctory look. There stood another,
providentially absent-minded, zebra!
We got that one. Everybody was now happy. The boys raced over to
the first kill, which soon took its dismembered way toward camp.