Sporting Scenes amongst the Kaffirs of South Africa — John Shaqi
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
Attacking and destroying their villages inflicts no great loss upon
them, for their houses are rebuilt in a few days. The only time when
they are likely to suffer is near their harvest season, for their crops
then would be destroyed. If they once gather the corn, they soon have
it well concealed in holes made for this purpose, which are circular and
deep.
I was nearly terminating my career in a corn-pit at Natal, and was
therefore well acquainted with its construction. As I was riding round
amongst some old deserted kraals looking for bush-pigs, my horse
suddenly stumbled; he partly recovered, and then came down on his head;
I thought he had the staggers, and tried to jump off. I felt him
sinking behind me, and as he was struggling, I had great difficulty in
getting clear. I had just got my foot out of the stirrup and was
throwing my leg over him, when he fell down several feet, with me on the
top of him. The whole of this took place in a few seconds. The dirt,
dust, and an avalanche of broken sticks, came tumbling down, and blinded
me for a moment. Upon looking about me, I found that we had sunk into
an old corn-pit, about twelve feet in depth and seven in diameter. The
sides were as hard as stone, for a fire is always kept burning for a day
or so in the interior when the pit is first made.
Fortunately, during the fall I was uppermost, otherwise our mingled
bones might have been the only intimation that my friends would have had
of this misfortune, as the hole was in a very out-of-the way locality.
My pony struggled at first, but, being a very cool hand, soon became
quiet. His hind-legs were bent under him like those of a dog when he
squats down, his head resting against the side of the pit. I could not
reach the top to get out, so I set to work with my knife and cut some
holes in the side of the pit, and worked my way out as a New Zealander
gets up a tree. I then ran to the hut of a squatter about a mile
distant, and obtained the aid of half a dozen Kaffirs with spades and
picks. We set to work and dug a sort of ramp, which allowed my horse to
walk out. He was very much cramped and rather stiff; but after walking
about a little, seemed to be all right, and no ill effects followed from
the fall, with the exception of a quantity of hair rubbed away, and the
fracture of the saddle-tree. Some Kaffirs had covered this pit over
with sticks and turf in hopes of earthing some game. It was fortunate
there was no sharp stake driven at the bottom of this pit, as is
frequently the case; one, if not both of us, might then have been
impaled.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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