Big Game Shooting, volume 1 (of 2)Phillipps-Wolley, Clive
General
Big Game Shooting, volume 1 (of 2)
Phillipps-Wolley, Clive
Game and game-birds; Hunting
I opened this one, and found the stomach
and nearly the whole of the intestines absolutely empty! The beast
was starving--he had evidently bled all night, and was very weak, a
fact which may account for the man’s getting off easier than one would
expect.
My journey with Livingstone to Lake ’Ngami, and my subsequent visit
to the Zambesi in the same company, have been fully described by the
Doctor himself, and though on both occasions I had to kill game for the
camp, they do not fall within the category of shooting expeditions.
They were made with other ends in view, and would be out of place in a
narrative of this kind; it will be sufficient to say we were successful
in introducing two new antelopes[7]--the ’Nakong and the Leché. The
latter, of a dark fawn-colour, with horns annulated and curved like the
waterbuck’s, only smaller, was found on the flats between the shallow
lake Kamadou and the Sesheké plains, west of the Zambesi, the former
about Lake ’Ngami, and in the marshy land and pools of one of its
affluents, the Teoge River. It is a veritable swamp-liver, about the
size of a goat, with long, brownish hair, and horns resembling those of
the koodoo in miniature. The abnormal elongation of its hoof enables
it to skim over the surface of morasses into which other antelopes
would sink. I have one, which I have just measured, very nearly four
inches long--if it were in the ratio of the animal’s size, one and
a half would be its proportion. On hard ground the ’Nakong runs with
difficulty--the swamp shoe is a hindrance. Instead of escaping by
flight or concealment in the bush, this antelope, on being disturbed,
makes straight for the water, sits down in it, and submerges all but
the nostrils until the danger be overpast.
When Murray and I reached Kolobeng in 1849 we found, for some reason
or other, Livingstone had already started, but we caught him up beyond
the Ba-Mungwato, with the chief of which tribe we had again a little
difficulty. By the way, six or seven miles south of his kraals we found
a hot, brackish spring, which bubbled up as if laden with gas.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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