Sporting Scenes amongst the Kaffirs of South AfricaDrayson, Alfred W. (Alfred Wilks)
History
Sporting Scenes amongst the Kaffirs of South Africa
Drayson, Alfred W. (Alfred Wilks)
Hunting -- South Africa; South Africa -- Description and travel
I returned up the ravine, and killed two guinea-fowl at one shot, as
they were running furiously along a path. I thought my old buffalo
might not be so tender as a guinea-fowl, in which supposition I was
correct. A Kaffir girl plucked one of the birds for me, and I thought
it particularly good, although it had not the addition of bread sauce or
gravy. As it was getting dark the Kaffirs returned, almost weighed down
by the immense weight of meat. Never had there been such luxurious
times in their land; meat without reserve; snuff in plenty; and a round
of brandy-and-water for the principal men. One or two large earthen
vessels were placed on the fire, and huge pieces of the buffalo were put
into them to stew. During the cooking, all the men assembled in the
largest hut, which was circular, and like all the others. It was about
twenty feet in diameter, about seven feet high, and in shape like a
beehive. A large place in the centre was hollowed out for the fire; no
chimney was considered necessary, a little hole that was in the thatch
being more for look than use; the smoke from the fire was thick and
blinding. The Kaffirs sat, like so many dogs, watching the meat
stewing, at the same time trying little tit-bits of about half a pound
or so, just as wetters to their appetites. They soon began a song,
which was an extempore laudation of me: there was a great repetition of
the same words, but very good time was kept, and a great deal of
exercise gone through. The arms were held something in the attitude
that a prizefighter would assume, and the body violently jerked up and
down. Every now and then one of the party would give a signal, when
they all would stop, and a man, with a very high tenor voice, shout a
few words; at the termination of these a chorus would join in amidst
yells and shrill whistles. Throughout, however, they kept a sort of
regularity, and, although barbarous in the extreme, it was music of its
kind. They did not seem to understand why I preferred to remain outside
in the cold, and repeatedly asked me to come inside the hut; so not to
appear exclusive, I took off my coat and waistcoat, and joined the
festive scene, by which I appeared to give great satisfaction. In a
quarter of an hour, however, I had had quite enough of it; I was baked
nearly to a cinder, blinded with the smoke, and poisoned with the smell.
A Kaffir, after his bath, is not the most sweetly perfumed animal in
the world; but when five-and-twenty hot men assemble in one hut, and sit
round a fire, it becomes too much to get over even with the aid of
powerful snuff. I therefore pitched my tent outside, and, concealing
myself between its folds, was soon asleep. The moon was still high when
I awoke, and, not feeling inclined to sleep again, I took my gun, and
wandered out in the cool night-air. Not a sound indicated the presence
of human beings; the country all round could be as plainly seen as
during the daylight, the night was so clear and bright.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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