Twenty-Five Years in a Waggon in South Africa: Sport and Travel in South AfricaAnderson, Andrew A.
History
Twenty-Five Years in a Waggon in South Africa: Sport and Travel in South Africa
Anderson, Andrew A.
Africa, Southern -- Description and travel; Anderson, Andrew A. -- Travel -- Africa, Southern
We reached the bank safely on the opposite side, which is Natal, and
treked on in a westerly course for a few miles, where we outspanned, and
then went on again for a long trek, as there was nothing further to
delay us, and the next day we continued on to a very pretty opening,
close to the river Ineandu; the lofty Drakensberg range on our right,
with its beautiful rugged outline, and deep kloofs, was grand to look
upon. Game was more plentiful here than we had seen for some time, and
we also found lions were not wanting to keep up the excitement during
the night-watch. As we arrived late, there was nothing to do but have
our fires, cook some tea and a slice of a young springbok over the red
embers, with a little salt, mustard, and pepper,--a supper not to be
cast on one side. We were rightly informed, and cautioned not to let
the oxen and horse stray in the bush, but kept them near and in sight,
for lions had considerably increased of late and had done much damage in
carrying off oxen when out in the Veldt. Mr. Evans, the merchant, once
saw forty all together. We therefore made everything fast before going
to sleep, and collected wood for fires, if it were necessary to light
them during the night. My horse would have been a great loss; he was
excellent when out after game, for, on dismounting and throwing the rein
over his head to hang on the ground, he would not move from the spot
until you returned from following up game where a horse could not go.
As there was no moon the night was getting dark, and while we were
sitting round the camp-fire, listening to the boys' tales of some
hunting expeditions they had been in, we were reminded that our friends
the lions were not far away. In the stillness of night, when all is
silent, the sounds made by a lion close at hand in a thick bush
surrounding the camp, the deep tones of his growls, make every one
start, and look around to see if all is safe, and put more wood on the
fires, to throw light into the bush, and take our rifles which had been
left in the waggon. Although we could not see them, we knew they were
close at hand; others were heard in the distance, and would no doubt
come nearer; sleep was out of the question, as a vigilant watch was
necessary, in case they might make an attack on our oxen. Wolves also
began to enliven the night-air with their sounds, and occasionally a
jackal was heard. With the exception of a few scares, when they came
too close to the waggon, the night passed off very well, and a lovely
bright morning succeeded. We inyoked the oxen, and treked at daylight--
saddling up the horse, I rode into the bush, but could see nothing
except their footprints in the sand.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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