The Ruined Cities of ZululandWalmsley, Hugh Mulleneux
History
The Ruined Cities of Zululand
Walmsley, Hugh Mulleneux
South Africa -- Description and travel; Zululand (South Africa)
It was with feelings of great regret the two saw the waggon with its
great tilt, lumbering away an hour or two before sunset, under the
charge of the missionary's men, and bound for the station of Saint Lucia
Bay,--it had been their home so long, that the cattle and horses seemed
to them as friends. It was hard to part with them. The ground was
strewed with packages, which were to be made up in the most commodious
form for carrying, and the party was reduced to its original number of
seven, with the addition of the Matabele and the two Europeans. A
smaller tent had been fashioned by Noti and Luji, out of some spare
canvas, easily carried, and it was now pitched by the river side, under
the thick shade of a group of trees. Just as the last rays of the sun
were gilding the river with gold, making it, indeed, look like the Gold
River, Masheesh dropped down it in a canoe, and sunrise saw them on
their way to Sofala. The crew of the boat consisted of the missionary,
Captain Hughes, Masheesh, and the powerful Kaffir, Noti; Luji being left
in charge of the camp at Gorongoza. Floating down the river in a
comfortable canoe, between banks whose verdure was most luxuriant, was a
pleasant change after the days of toilsome march. The palmyra, the wild
date, mohanno, mowanna, and many other tropical trees grew in rich
luxuriance, while the thick tangled undergrowth, mixed up with a host of
creeping cane-like plants, rendered it impossible to penetrate the
forest-land. Long reeds of various kinds hung over the banks, and
beautiful water-lilies of gigantic size floated on the water. Wherever
a break occurred among the trees, grew grass, or fields of wild maize or
wild cotton were to be seen, and now and then the water antelope would
dash into the stream and swim across. The party trusted to their rifles
for food, and one of these antelopes coming well within range, Wyzinski
fired, wounding the animal severely just as he reached the shore. The
canoe dashed on to overtake it, which would easily have been done, for
the deer was unable to climb the steep bank, and twice failed in the
attempt, falling back into the water, when a huge alligator rose,
showing his long shovel-shaped snout above the river. A ball struck the
alligator, but without penetrating its mail. The deer struggled wildly
for a moment, several other dark log-like forms showed on the bank, and
the antelope disappeared, the water bubbling crimson for a moment; the
next the canoe moved gently over the reddened river, and all was still.
A second deer swam the stream, and this time it was different.
"Let him go, Wyzinski," whispered Hughes; "the alligators won't touch
him while he is swimming."
"Take the shot yourself; see, he nears the bank."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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