The narrative of an explorer in tropical South AfricaGalton, Francis
History
The narrative of an explorer in tropical South Africa
Galton, Francis
South Africa -- Description and travel
The mules and horses were just recovering their condition, when that
fatal scourge, the distemper, broke out amongst them. First one fine
mule was found to be ill, and to stand with difficulty; a little froth
gathered about his nose and mouth; in an hour he was lying on the ground,
and in another hour dead. I was distressed beyond measure, as I knew the
disease would not rest with him; neither did it,—two more mules were
infected, and died also; but my last horse still was in good health. He
gave me one good gallop after a giraffe. I saw him far off, coming down
the long slope on the other side of the river, and cantered round him.
As I got nearer and rode gently, I passed two other individuals, each
stalking the same beast; one was my faithful Hans, and the other, a brute
of a lion. I gallopped up to the giraffe, and put a large bullet through
his ribs, which sickened him at once. I then rode in front of him, as he
slowly kept on his road at a pace between a walk and a trot; but when I
began to re-load, I found to my intense disgust, that my powder-horn had
jolted out of my pocket. I could not turn the giraffe; he forged steadily
on at about seven miles an hour, and, as the evening was closing in, I
had to leave him to go where he pleased. I offered a good reward for my
powder-flask, which I could not easily spare; and men, women, and boys
ran off the next day on my horse’s spoor, and found it. I never carried a
powder-flask loose in my pocket again. Other Damaras followed, and got my
giraffe for themselves.
In return for the meat of the dead mules, the Damaras worked at
strengthening my kraal, building me a hut in it, and digging a well. I
had logs of wood or branches of trees planted upright in the ground at
intervals all round, and plenty of dabby bushes wattled in between them.
I made a good gate to the whole; for I wished to feel, that when Timboo,
John Morta, and I remained behind, and the rest of the party were gone
down to the Bay to fetch the waggons, I might have a place of security
against pilferers and night marauders.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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