The Land of Footprints
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Stewart Edward White >> The Land of Footprints
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The hours passed very slowly. We made lunch last as long as
possible. I had in my pocket a small edition of Hawthorne's "The
House of the Seven Gables," which I read, pausing every few
minutes to raise my glasses for the periodical examination of the
country. The mental focussing back from the pale gray half light
of Hawthorne's New England to the actuality of wild Africa was a
most extraordinary experience.
Through the heat of the day the world lay absolutely silent. At
about half-past three, however, we heard rumblings and low
bellows from the trees a half mile away. I repocketed Hawthorne,
and aroused myself to continuous alertness.
The ensuing two hours passed more slowly than all the rest of the
day, for we were constantly on the lookout. The buffaloes delayed
most singularly, seemingly reluctant to leave their deep cover.
The sun dropped behind the mountains, and their shadow commenced
to climb the opposite range. I glanced at my watch. We had not
more than a half hour of daylight left.
Fifteen minutes of this passed. It began to look as though our
long and monotonous wait had been quite in vain; when, right
below us, and perhaps five hundred yards away, four great black
bodies fed leisurely from the bushes. Three of them we could see
plainly. Two were bulls of fair size. The fourth, half concealed
in the brush, was by far the biggest of the lot.
In order to reach them we would have to slip down the face of the
hill on which we sat, cross the stream jungle at the bottom,
climb out the other side, and make our stalk to within range.
With a half hour more of daylight this would have been
comparatively easy, but in such circumstances it is difficult to
move at the same time rapidly and unseen. However, we decided to
make the attempt. To that end we disencumbered ourselves of all
our extras-lunch box, book, kodak, glasses, etc.-and wormed our
way as rapidly as possible toward the bottom of the hill. We
utilized the cover as much as we were able, but nevertheless
breathed a sigh of relief when we had dropped below the line of
the jungle. We wasted very little time crossing the latter, save
for precautions against noise. Even in my haste, however, I had
opportunity to notice its high and austere character, with the
arching overhead vines, and the clear freedom from undergrowth in
its heart. Across this cleared space we ran at full speed,
crouching below the grasp of the vines, splashed across the brook
and dashed up the other bank. Only a faint glimmer of light
lingered in the jungle. At the upper edge we paused, collected
ourselves, and pushed cautiously through the thick border-screen
of bush.
The twilight was just fading into dusk. Of course we had taken
our bearings from the other hill; so now, after reassuring
ourselves of them, we began to wriggle our way at a great pace
through the high grass. Our calculations were quite accurate. We
stalked successfully, and at last, drenched in sweat, found
ourselves lying flat within ten yards of a small bush behind
which we could make out dimly the black mass of the largest beast
we had seen from across the way.
Although it was now practically dark, we had the game in our own
hands. From our low position the animal, once it fed forward from
behind the single small bush, would be plainly outlined against
the sky, and at ten yards I should be able to place my heavy
bullets properly, even in the dark. Therefore, quite easy in our
minds, we lay flat and rested. At the end of twenty seconds the
animal began to step forward. I levelled my double gun, ready to
press trigger the moment the shoulder appeared in the clear. Then
against the saffron sky emerged the ugly outline and two
upstanding horns of a rhinoceros!
"Faru!" I whispered disgustedly to Memba Sasa. With infinite
pains we backed out, then retreated to a safe distance. It was of
course now too late to hunt up the three genuine buffaloes of
this ill-assorted group.
In fact our main necessity was to get through the river jungle
before the afterglow had faded from the sky, leaving us in pitch
darkness. I sent Memba Sasa across to pick up the effects we had
left on the opposite ridge, while I myself struck directly across
the flat toward camp.
I had plunged ahead thus, for two or three hundred yards, when I
was brought up short by the violent snort of a rhinoceros just
off the starboard bow. He was very close, but I was unable to
locate him in the dusk. A cautious retreat and change of course
cleared me from him, and I was about to start on again full speed
when once more I was halted by another rhinoceros, this time dead
ahead. Attempting to back away from him, I aroused another in my
rear; and as though this were not enough a fourth opened up to
the left.
It was absolutely impossible to see anything ten yards away
unless it happened to be silhouetted against the sky. I backed
cautiously toward a little bush, with a vague idea of having
something to dodge around. As the old hunter said when, unarmed,
he met the bear, "Anything, even a newspaper, would have come
handy." To my great joy I backed against a conical ant hill four
or five feet high. This I ascended and began anti-rhino
demonstrations. I had no time to fool with rhinos, anyway. I
wanted to get through that jungle before the leopards left their
family circles. I hurled clods of earth and opprobrious shouts
and epithets in the four directions of my four obstreperous
friends, and I thought I counted four reluctant departures. Then,
with considerable doubt, I descended from my ant hill and hurried
down the slope, stumbling over grass hummocks, colliding with
bushes, tangling with vines, but progressing in a gratifyingly
rhinoless condition. Five minutes cautious but rapid feeling my
way brought me through the jungle. Shortly after I raised the
campfires; and so got home.
The next two days were repetitions, with slight variation, of
this experience, minus the rhinos! Starting from camp before
daylight we were only in time to see the herd-always
aggravatingly on the other side of the cover, no matter which
side we selected for our approach, slowly grazing into the dense
jungle. And always they emerged so late and so far away that our
very best efforts failed to get us near them before dark. The
margin always so narrow, however, that our hopes were alive.
On the fourth day, which must be our last in Longeetoto, we found
that the herd had shifted to fresh cover three miles along the
base of the mountains. We had no faith in those buffaloes, but
about half-past three we sallied forth dutifully and took
position on a hill overlooking the new hiding place. This
consisted of a wide grove of forest trees varied by occasional
open glades and many dense thickets. So eager were we to win what
had by now developed into a contest that I refused to shoot a
lioness with a three-quarters-grown cub that appeared within easy
shot from some reeds below us.
Time passed as usual until nearly sunset. Then through an opening
into one of the small glades we caught sight of the herd
travelling slowly but steadily from right to left. The glimpse
was only momentary, but it was sufficient to indicate the
direction from which we might expect them to emerge. Therefore we
ran at top speed down from our own hill, tore through the jungle
at its foot, and hastily, but with more caution, mounted the
opposite slope through the scattered groves and high grass. We
could hear occasionally indications of the buffaloes' slow
advance, and we wanted to gain a good ambuscade above them before
they emerged. We found it in the shape of a small conical hillock
perched on the side hill itself, and covered with long grass. It
commanded open vistas through the scattered trees in all
directions. And the thicket itself ended not fifty yards away. No
buffalo could possibly come out without our seeing him; and we
had a good half hour of clear daylight before us. It really
seemed that luck had changed at last.
We settled ourselves, unlimbered for action, and got our breath.
The buffaloes came nearer and nearer. At length, through a tiny
opening a hundred yards away, we could catch momentary glimpses
of their great black bodies. I thrust forward the safety catch
and waited. Finally a half dozen of the huge beasts were feeding
not six feet inside the circle of brush, and only thirty-odd
yards from where we lay.
And they came no farther! I never passed a more heart-breaking
half hour of suspense than that in which little by little the
daylight and our hopes faded, while those confounded buffaloes
moved slowly out to the very edge of the thicket, turned, and
moved as slowly back again. At times they came actually into
view. We could see their sleek black bodies rolling lazily into
sight and back again, like seals on the surface of water, but
never could we make out more than that. I could have had a dozen
good shots, but I could not even guess what I would be shooting
at. And the daylight drained away and the minutes ticked by!
Finally, as I could see no end to this performance save that to
which we had been so sickeningly accustomed in the last four
days, I motioned to Memba Sasa, and together we glided like
shadows into the thicket.
There it was already dusk. We sneaked breathlessly through the
small openings, desperately in a hurry, almost painfully on the
alert. In the dark shadow sixty yards ahead stood a half dozen
monstrous bodies all facing our way. They suspected the presence
of something unusual, but in the darkness and the stillness they
could neither identify it nor locate it exactly. I dropped on one
knee and snatched my prism glasses to my eyes. The magnification
enabled me to see partially into the shadows. Every one of the
group carried the sharply inturned points to the horns: they were
all cows!
An instant after I had made out this fact, they stampeded across
our face. The whole band thundered and crashed away.
Desperately we sprang after them, our guns atrail, our bodies
stooped low to keep down in the shadow of the earth. And
suddenly, without the slightest warning we plumped around a bush
square on top of the entire herd. It had stopped and was staring
back in our direction. I could see nothing but the wild toss of a
hundred pair of horns silhouetted against such of the irregular
saffron afterglow as had not been blocked off by the twigs and
branches of the thicket. All below was indistinguishable
blackness.
They stood in a long compact semicircular line thirty yards away,
quite still, evidently staring intently into the dusk to find out
what had alarmed them. At any moment they were likely to make
another rush; and if they did so in the direction they were
facing, they would most certainly run over us and trample us
down.
Remembering the dusk I thought it likely that the unexpected
vivid flash of the gun might turn them off before they got
started. Therefore I raised the big double Holland, aimed below
the line of heads, and was just about to pull trigger when my eye
caught the silhouette of a pair of horns whose tips spread out
instead of turning in. This was a bull, and I immediately shifted
the gun in his direction. At the heavy double report, the herd
broke wildly to right and left and thundered away. I confess I
was quite relieved.
A low moaning bellow told us that our bull was down. The last few
days' experience at being out late had taught us wisdom so Memba
Sasa had brought a lantern. By the light of this, we discovered
our bull down, and all but dead. To make sure, I put a Winchester
bullet into his backbone.
We felt ourselves legitimately open to congratulations, for we
had killed this bull from a practically nocturnal herd, in the
face of considerable danger and more than considerable
difficulty. Therefore we shook hands and made appropriate remarks
to each other, lacking anybody to make them for us.
By now it was pitch dark in the thicket, and just about so
outside. We had to do a little planning. I took the Holland gun,
gave Memba Sasa the Winchester, and started him for camp after
help. As he carried off the lantern, it was now up to me to make
a fire and to make it quickly.
For the past hour a fine drizzle had been falling; and the whole
country was wet from previous rains. I hastily dragged in all the
dead wood I could find near, collected what ought to be good
kindling, and started in to light a fire. Now, although I am no
Boy Scout, I have lit several fires in my time. But never when I
was at the same time in such a desperate need and hurry; and in
possession of such poor materials. The harder I worked, the worse
things sputtered and smouldered. Probably the relief from the
long tension of the buffalo hunt had something to do with my
general piffling inefficiency. If I had taken time to do a proper
job once instead of a halfway job a dozen times, as I should have
done and usually would have done, I would have had a fire in no
time. I imagine I was somewhat scared. The lioness and her
hulking cub had smelled the buffalo and were prowling around. I
could hear them purring and uttering their hollow grunts.
However, at last the flame held. I fed it sparingly, lit a pipe,
placed the Holland gun next my hand, and resigned myself to
waiting. For two hours this was not so bad. I smoked, and rested
up, and dried out before my little fire. Then my fuel began to
run low. I arose and tore down all the remaining dead limbs
within the circle of my firelight. These were not many, so I
stepped out into the darkness for more. Immediately I was warned
back by a deep growl!
The next hour was not one of such solid comfort. I began to get
parsimonious about my supply of firewood, trying to use it in
such a manner as to keep up an adequate blaze, and at the same
time to make it last until Memba Sasa should return with the men.
I did it, though I got down to charred ends before I was through.
The old lioness hung around within a hundred yards or so below,
and the buffalo herd, returning, filed by above, pausing to stamp
and snort at the fire. Finally, about nine o'clock, I made out
two lanterns bobbing up to me through the trees.
The last incident to be selected from many experiences with
buffaloes took place in quite an unvisited district over the
mountains from the Loieta Plains. For nearly two months we had
ranged far in this lovely upland country of groves and valleys
and wide grass bottoms between hills, hunting for greater kudu.
One day we all set out from camp to sweep the base of a range of
low mountains in search of a good specimen of Newman's
hartebeeste, or anything else especially desirable that might
happen along. The gentle slope from the mountains was of grass
cut by numerous small ravines grown with low brush. This brush
was so scanty as to afford but indifferent cover for anything
larger than one of the small grass antelopes. All the ravines led
down a mile or so to a deeper main watercourse paralleling the
mountains. Some water stood in the pools here; and the cover was
a little more dense, but consisted at best of but a "stringer" no
wider than a city street. Flanking the stringer were scattered
high bushes for a few yards; and then the open country.
Altogether as unlikely a place for the shade-loving buffalo as
could be imagined.
We collected our Newmanii after rather a long hunt; and just at
noon, when the heat of the day began to come on, we wandered down
to the water for lunch. Here we found a good clear pool and
drank. The boys began to make themselves comfortable by the
water's edge; C. went to superintend the disposal of Billy's
mule. Billy had sat down beneath the shade of the most hospitable
of the bushes a hundred feet or so away, and was taking off her
veil and gloves. I was carrying to her the lunch box. When I was
about halfway from where the boys were drinking at the stream's
edge to where she sat, a buffalo bull thrust his head from the
bushes just the other side of her. His head was thrust up and
forward, as he reached after some of the higher tender leaves on
the bushes. So close was he that I could see plainly the drops
glistening on his moist black nose. As for Billy, peacefully
unwinding her long veil, she seemed fairly under the beast.
I had no weapon, and any moment might bring some word or some
noise that would catch the animal's attention. Fortunately, for
the moment, every one, relaxed in the first reaction after the
long morning, was keeping silence. If the buffalo should look
down, he could not fail to see Billy; and if he saw her, he would
indubitably kill her.
As has been explained, snapping the fingers does not seem to
reach the attention of wild animals. Therefore I snapped mine as
vigorously as I knew how. Billy heard, looked toward me, turned
in the direction of my gaze, and slowly sank prone against the
ground. Some of the boys heard me also, and I could see the heads
of all of them popping up in interest from the banks of the
stream. My cautious but very frantic signals to lie low were
understood: the heads dropped back. Mavrouki, a rifle in each
hand, came worming his way toward me through the grass with
incredible quickness and agility. A moment later he thrust the
405 Winchester into my hand.
This weapon, powerful and accurate as it is, the best of the lot
for lions, was altogether too small for the tremendous brute
before me. However, the Holland was in camp; and I was very glad
in the circumstances to get this. The buffalo had browsed slowly
forward into the clear, and was now taking the top off a small
bush, and facing half away from us. It seemed to me quite the
largest buffalo I had ever seen, though I should have been
willing to have acknowledged at that moment that the
circumstances had something to do with the estimate. However,
later we found that the impression was correct. He was verily a
giant of his kind. His height at the shoulder was five feet ten
inches; and his build was even chunkier than the usual solid
robust pattern of buffaloes. For example, his neck, just back of
the horns, was two feet eight inches thick! He weighed not far
from three thousand pounds.
Once the rifle was in my hands I lost the feeling of utter
helplessness, and began to plan the best way out of the
situation. As yet the beast was totally unconscious of our
presence; but that could not continue long. There were too many
men about. A chance current of air from any one of a half dozen
directions could not fail to give him the scent. Then there would
be lively doings. It was exceedingly desirable to deliver the
first careful blow of the engagement while he was unaware. On the
other hand, his present attitude-half away from me-was not
favourable; nor, in my exposed position dared I move to a better
place. There seemed nothing better than to wait; so wait we did.
Mavrouki crouched close at my elbow, showing not the faintest
indication of a desire to be anywhere but there.
The buffalo browsed for a minute or so; then swung slowly
broadside on. So massive and low were the bosses of his horns
that the brain shot was impossible. Therefore I aimed low in the
shoulder. The shock of the bullet actually knocked that great
beast off his feet! My respect for the hitting power of the 405
went up several notches. The only trouble was that he rebounded
like a rubber ball. Without an instant's hesitation I gave him
another in the same place. This brought him to his knees for an
instant; but he was immediately afoot again. Billy had, with
great good sense and courage, continued to lie absolutely flat
within a few yards of the beast, Mavrouki and I had kept low, and
C. and the men were out of sight. The buffalo therefore had seen
none of his antagonists. He charged at a guess, and guessed
wrong. As he went by I fired at his head, and, as we found out
afterward, broke his jaw. A moment later C.'s great elephant gun
roared from somewhere behind me as he fired by a glimpse through
the brush at the charging animal. It was an excellent snapshot,
and landed back of the ribs.
When the buffalo broke through the screen of brush I dashed after
him, for I thought our only chance of avoiding danger lay in
keeping close track of where that buffalo went. On the other side
the bushes I found a little grassy opening, and then a small but
dense thicket into which the animal had plunged. To my left, C.
was running up, followed closely by Billy, who, with her usual
good sense, had figured out the safest place to be immediately
back of the guns. We came together at the thicket's edge.
The animal's movements could be plainly followed by the sound of
his crashing. We heard him dash away some distance, pause, circle
a bit to the right, and then come rushing back in our direction.
Stooping low we peered into the darkness of the thicket. Suddenly
we saw him, not a dozen yards away. He was still afoot, but very
slow. I dropped the magazine of five shots into him as fast as I
could work the lever. We later found all the bullet-holes in a
spot as big as the palm of your hand. These successive heavy
blows delivered all in the same place were too much for even his
tremendous vitality; and slowly he sank on his side.
XXVI. JUJA
Most people have heard of Juja, the modern dwelling in the heart
of an African wilderness, belonging to our own countryman,
Mr. W. N. McMillan. If most people are as I was before I saw the place,
they have considerable curiosity and no knowledge of what it is
and how it looks.
We came to Juja at the end of a wide circle that had lasted three
months, and was now bringing us back again toward our starting
point. For five days we had been camped on top a high bluff at
the junction of two rivers. When we moved we dropped down the
bluff, crossed one river, and, after some searching, found our
way up the other bluff. There we were on a vast plain bounded by
mountains thirty miles away. A large white and unexpected sign
told us we were on Juja Farm, and warned us that we should be
careful of our fires in the long grass.
For an hour we plodded slowly along. Herds of zebra and
hartebeeste drew aside before us, dark heavy wildebeeste-the
gnu-stood in groups at a safe distance their heads low, looking
exactly like our vanished bison; ghostlike bands of Thompson's
gazelles glided away with their smooth regular motion. On the
vast and treeless plains single small objects standing above the
general uniformity took an exaggerated value; so that, before it
emerged from the swirling heat mirage, a solitary tree might
easily be mistaken for a group of buildings or a grove. Finally,
however, we raised above the horizon a dark straight clump of
trees. It danced in the mirage, and blurred and changed form, but
it persisted. A strange patch of white kept appearing and
disappearing again. This resolved itself into the side of a
building. A spider-legged water tower appeared above the trees.
Gradually we drew up on these. A bit later we swung to the right
around a close wire fence ten feet high, passed through a gate,
and rode down a long slanting avenue of young trees. Between the
trees were century plants and flowers, and a clipped border ran
before them. The avenue ended before a low white bungalow, with
shady verandas all about it, and vines. A formal flower garden
lay immediately about it, and a very tall flag pole had been
planted in front. A hundred feet away the garden dropped off
steep to one of the deep river canyons.
Two white-robed Somalis appeared on the veranda to inform us that
McMillan was off on safari. Our own boys approaching at this
moment, we thereupon led them past the house, down another long
avenue of trees and flowers, out into an open space with many
buildings at its edges, past extensive stables, and through
another gate to the open plains once more. Here we made camp.
After lunch we went back to explore.
Juja is situated on the top of a high bluff overlooking a river.
In all directions are tremendous grass plains. Donya Sabuk-the
Mountain of Buffaloes-is the only landmark nearer than the dim
mountains beyond the edge of the world, and that is a day's
journey away. A rectangle of possibly forty acres has been
enclosed on three sides by animal-proof wire fence. The fourth
side is the edge of the bluff. Within this enclosure have been
planted many trees, now of good size; a pretty garden with
abundance of flowers, ornamental shrubs, a sundial, and lawns. In
the river bottom land below the bluff is a very extensive
vegetable and fruit garden, with cornfields, and experimental
plantings of rubber, and the like. For the use of the people of
Juja here are raised a great variety and abundance of vegetables,
fruits, and grains.
Juja House, as has been said, stands back a hundred feet from a
bend in the bluffs that permits a view straight up the river
valley. It is surrounded by gardens and trees, and occupies all
one end of the enclosed rectangle. Farther down and perched on
the edge of a bluff, are several pretty little bungalows for the
accommodation of the superintendent and his family, for the
bachelors' mess, for the farm offices and dispensary, and for the
dairy room, the ice-plant and the post-office and telegraph
station. Back of and inland from this row on the edge of the
cliff, and scattered widely in open space, are a large store
stocked with everything on earth, the Somali quarters of low
whitewashed buildings, the cattle corrals, the stables, wild
animal cages, granaries, blacksmith and carpenter shops, wagon
sheds and the like. Outside the enclosure, and a half mile away,
are the conical grass huts that make up the native village. Below
the cliff is a concrete dam, an electric light plant, a pumping
plant and a few details of the sort.
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