The Dickinson press., 1890-03-29

seemed to have had enough of them
However, it would never do to show the
white feather before the boys, so as.
sented with much outward readiness,
and we started, on the second horse,
and the others on foot. When we had
Travelled for the best part of an hour
down the valley, all of sudden we
came upon the whole herd, which num-
bered a little more than eighty. Just in
front of them the bush was so thick that
they seemed to hesitate about entering
it, and the sides Of the valley were so
rocky and steep at this point that they
could not climb them.
They saw us at the same moment as we
saw them, andinwardly Twas filed with
fears lest they should take It into their
heads to charge back up the gully. But
they did not; trrlmpeting aloud, they
rushed at the thick bush which went
down before them like corn before a
sickle. l do not think that in all my ex-
periences ever heard anything to equal
the sound they made as they crashed
through and over the shrubs and trees.
Before them was dense forest belt from
hundred to hundred and fifty feet in
width. AS they rushed on it fell, so that be-
hind them was nothing but level road
way strewn with fallen trunks, crushed
branches, and here and there tree, too
strong even for them, left standing amid
the wreck. On they went, and, notwith-
ckor1snrr no oe thu
which they had to travel, they kept their
distance ahead of us. This sort of thing
continued for mile or more, and then /
saw thatin front of the elephants the val
ley opened into a space covered with
reeds and grass-it might have been five
or six acres in extent-beyond which the
valley ran on again.
The herd reached the edge of this ex-
panse, and for a moment pulled up, hes
itating evidently they mistrusted it.
My men yelled aloud, as only Kaffirs
can, and that settled them. Headed by
the wounded bull, whose martial ardor,
like my own, was somewhat cooled, they
spread out and dashed into the treacher-
GUS swamp, for such it was, though just
then there was no water to be seen. For
a few yards all went well with them,
though they clearly found it heavy 60
ing; then suddenly the great bull sunk
up to his belly in the stiff peaty soil, and
remained fixed. The others, mad with
fear, took no heed of his struggles and
trumpetings, but plunged on to meet the
same fate. In five minutes the whole
herd of them were hopelessly begged,
the more they struggled to escape, the
deeper they sunk. There was one ex-
ception, indeed, a COW with calf man.
aged to win back to firm shore, and,
lifting her trunk, prepared to charge us
as we came up. But at that moment
sho heard the scream of her calf, and
rushed back to its assistance, only to be
begged with the others.
Such q scene never saw before or
since. The swamp was spotted all over
with the large forms Of the elephants,
and the air rang with their screams of
rage and terror US they waved their
trunks wildly to and fro. Now and
again a monster would make q great
effort and drag his mass from its peaty
bed, only to stick fast again at tho next
stroke. 1t was u most pitiable sight,
though one that gladdened the hearts
Of my men. Even the best natives have
little compassion for the sufferings of
animals.
Well, the rest was easy. Tho marsh
that would not bear the elephants carried
our weight well enough. Before mid
night all were dead, for we shot them
by moonlight. I would gladly have
spared the young ones and some of the
COWS, but to do SO would only have
meant leaving them to perish of hunger;
it was kinder to kill them at once. The
wounded bull slew with my own hand,
and l cannot say that felt much com.
junction iii doing SO. He knew me
again, and made desperate effort to
get at me, but 1 am glad to say that the
peat held him fast.
The pan presented curious sight when
the sun rose next morning. Owing to the
support given by the soil, none of the
dead elephants had fallen; there they all
stood as though they were asleep.
sent back for the wagons, and when
they arrived on the morrow, formed a
camp, about mile away from the pan.
Then began the work of cutting out the
elephants tusks; it took over week,
and for obvious reasons was disgusting
task. Indeed, had it not been for the
help of some wandering buslmen, who
took their pay in elephant meat, I do not
think we could ever have managed It.
At last it was done. The ivory was
far too cumbersome for us to carry, so
we buried it, having first got rid of our
bushmen allies. My boys wanted me to
90 back to the cape with it and sell it,
but was too much bent on my journey
to do this. The tusks lay buried for five
years. Then I came and dug them up;
they were but little harmed. Ultimately
sold the ivory for something over
twelve hundred pounds-not bad pay
for one days shooting.
This is how began my career as an
elephant hunter. have shot many
hundreds of them since, but have never
again attempted to do SO on horseback.
CHAPTER ".