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
Reduced from 12 st. 2 lb. to 7 st. 12 lb. by many attacks of Indian
fever caught during a shooting excursion in the valley of the Bhavany
River, I was sent to the Cape as a last chance by the Madras doctors;
indeed, whilst lying in a semi-comatose state, I heard one of them
declare that I ought to have been dead a year ago; so all thanks to
South Africa, say I! I gained strength by the voyage, and, shortly
after reaching Cape Town, hearing that a Mr. Murray, of Lintrose,
near Cupar Angus, had come from Scotland for the purpose of making a
shooting expedition to the interior, I determined to join him. The
resolve was carried out early in the spring of 1844 (the beginning
of the Cape winter); we started out from Graham’s Town to Colesberg,
buying on the way horses, oxen, dogs, waggons, and stores, crossed
the Orange River, and set our faces northwards. We were all bitten
in those days by Captain--afterwards Sir Cornwallis-Harris, whose
book, published about 1837, was the first to give any notion of the
capabilities of South Africa for big game shooting, and, Harris
excepted, ‘we were the first that ever burst into that “sunny” sea’-as
sportsmen. Murray was an excellent kind-hearted gentleman, rather too
old perhaps for an expedition of this kind, as he felt the alternations
of the climate very much; and no wonder, for I have known the
thermometer to register 92° in the shade at 2 P.M., and 30° at 8 P.M. I
was younger, and though still weak from the effects of fever, the dry
air of the uplands daily gave me vigour, and the absolute freedom of
the life was delightful to me. Just at first I had to become accustomed
to the many little annoyances of missing oxen, strayed horses, &c.; but
when our waggons became our _home_, and our migratory state our life,
all anxious care vanished. Things would be put right somehow; there was
no use worrying ourselves; what had been yesterday would be to-morrow.
What though the flats between the Orange and Molopo Rivers were full
of sameness, they were also full of antelope, gnu, and quagga. These,
with the bird and insect life, were all fresh, and made the world very
bright around us. These upland flats have been so often described, that
I will not bore the reader unnecessarily with an account of them, and
besides, I am not writing of the country or its appearance, but have
merely undertaken to try and give some idea of the game that once held
possession of it; and, indeed, I doubt very much if I could convey any
notion at the present time of what it was some fifty years ago, for all
the glamour of the wildness and abundant life has long passed away.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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