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
During this journey, when very hard up for water, I offered to
sacrifice a pony and ride on in advance of the slow-moving waggons,
which were to follow on my spoor, on the chance of finding what we
needed so sorely. John and three or four Kafirs accompanied me, and
we had travelled I dare say twelve miles when I saw a patch of high
grass wave as if something were passing through it. Thinking it might
be a lion, and if a lion then water was near, I cantered to the head
of the ‘Jheel,’ dismounted, and watched the line of movement. It came
to the edge, and some living thing broke from it. I covered it, and
only just in time saw it was a woman running, or rather crawling,
very fast on all fours. I mounted in an instant, and shouting to the
Kafirs to follow, I headed her and made signs to her to stop. She
fell upon her knees, and in Sechuana begged me not to kill her. She
had never seen horse or white man before, and evidently took me for
a hippogriff. I calmed her apprehensions, cut the metal buttons off
my waistcoat, presented them to her, and asked where the water was.
‘There is no water,’ she said, ‘I was just making something to drink’
(she was mashing a watery tuber in a wooden bowl) ‘when I saw the pitsi
(horse).’ Bushmen--she was of that people--we knew, lived for months
without real water, but I thought it worth while trying the experiment
of offering her beads and brass wire if she would guide us to some.
It succeeded. ‘Well, if you won’t kill me, I’ll show you where the
elephants drink,’ she replied; I bade her go ahead, and made her walk
just in front. Never did any old lady step out through prickly bush as
did my dame. Her bare legs were scratched by the thorns; but what was
that to her, expecting instant death if she stopped a moment? On she
went. Presently we came upon an elephant. She suggested by signs that
I should kill it, but I answered, ‘Water, then elephant.’ We entered a
belt of high trees. I pressed even more closely on her, lest she should
dodge among them and escape; my pony’s nose nearly touched her, and so
we went through two miles of wood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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