Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the KaffirsPhillips, E. W. (Emma Watts)
General
Richard Galbraith, Mariner; Or, Life among the Kaffirs
Phillips, E. W. (Emma Watts)
Shipwrecks -- Fiction; South Africa -- Fiction
Tugela had pointed out to me the beast which was to be the victim--a
fine fellow truly--and I longed for one of our English rifles, when I
could have picked him off in two twos, whereas I soon found the assagai
wounded only to irritation, and finally killed by exhaustion, such as a
man might die from on being pricked to death by large pins. I have no
doubt this is the reason which makes the Kaffirs, in a herd of these
animals, attack one and one only. Looking down, I perceived that the
hunters were approaching the edge of the bush, which yet concealed them,
wriggling through it like snakes, with their assagais ready to hand. As
they neared the open space, I fancied the elephants became aware of our
presence, for the one we had spotted threw up his trunk suddenly,
stamped with its foot, and uttered one of their loud, peculiar,
trumpet-like cries. The next moment some twenty assagais shot with
unerring aim through the air, and penetrated the animal's thick
leather-like hide.
His cry of fear and rage was terrible to hear. First he seemed
confounded, then, while the rest fled in terror, conscious, no doubt, by
his cries that danger was in their neighbourhood, he rushed blindly
forward into the bush.
I now recognised the wisdom of Tugela's advice to such an amateur hand
as I; for as the enraged beast dashed on, trampling the underwood
beneath his feet, it was as much as the Kaffirs themselves could do to
avoid being crushed by slipping out of the way. Like monkeys, they
dodged about him, darting their assagais at every opportunity that
presented itself, while I from my vantage-ground hurled one now and then
with all the force I could command.
I must not forget to mention one very important auxiliary of the
hunters. This was their dogs. These little wretches, now let loose,
snapped and barked about the ponderous creature, irritating him to such
a degree as to render him at times quite regardless of the sharp
stings--for they appeared little more--of the spears.
I have said that I cast one of my assagais only occasionally. I did so
for this reason: I now had always the thought of escape before my eyes,
so I refrained from parting with all my weapons, thinking they might
prove of greater use hereafter; so I merely acted as spectator, and
looked on till I began to fancy the miserable creature--whose
trumpet-like bellowings were growing fainter and fainter--never would
fall. It truly was a cruel kind of hunting. His massive body was
covered with blood streaming from the many wounds, and he staggered on
his thick legs; but he yet continued to dash at his assailants, maddened
by rage and pain, and strove to turn sharply upon the snapping, barking
dogs. At last, however, when his black hide resembled a lady's
pincushion supplied with many pins, he gave a great reel, a final cry,
and sunk slowly upon his knees, apparently dead.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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