CHAPTER XXVI.
UPON THE SPOOR.
They had not gone above an hundred yards farther, when they came to oneof the pools, already spoken of. It was a tolerably large one; and themud around its edges bore the hoof-prints of numerous animals. This thehunters saw from a distance, but on reaching the spot, Swartboy, alittle in the advance, turned suddenly round, and, with rolling orbs andquivering lips, clicked out the words,--
"Mein baas! mein baas! da klow! spoor ob da groot olifant!"
There was no danger of mistaking the spoor of the elephant for that ofany other creature. There, sure enough, were the great roundtracks--full twenty-four inches in length, and nearly as wide--deeplyimprinted in the mud by the enormous weight of the animal's body. Eachformed an immense hole, large enough to have set a gate-post in.
The hunters contemplated the spoor with emotions of pleasure--the moreso that the tracks had been recently made. This was evident. Thedisplaced mud had not yet crusted, but looked damp and fresh. It hadbeen stirred within the hour.
Only one elephant had visited the pool that night. There were many oldtracks, but only one fresh spoor,--and that of an old and very largebull.
Of course the tracks told this much. To make a spoor twenty-four incheslong, requires the animal to be a very large one; and to be very large,he should be a bull, and an old one too.
Well, the older and larger the better, provided his tusks have not beenbroken by some accident. When that happens they are never recoveredagain. The elephant does cast his tusks, but only in the juvenile state,when they are not bigger than lobster's claws; and the pair thatsucceeds these is permanent, and has to last him for life--perhaps forcenturies--for no one can tell how long the mighty elephant roams overthis sublunary planet.
When the tusks get broken--a not uncommon thing--he must remaintoothless or "tuskless" for the rest of his life. Although the elephantmay consider the loss of his huge tusks a great calamity, were he only alittle wiser, he would break them off against the first tree. It would,in all probability, be the means of prolonging his life; for the hunterwould not then consider him worth the ammunition it usually takes tokill him.
After a short consultation among the hunters, Swartboy started off uponthe spoor, followed by Von Bloom and Hendrik. It led straight out fromthe channel, and across the jungle.
Usually the bushes mark the course of an elephant, where these are ofthe sort he feeds upon. In this case he had not fed; but the Bushman,who could follow spoor with a hound, had no difficulty in keeping on thetrack, as fast as the three were able to travel.
They emerged into open glades; and, after passing through several ofthese, came upon a large ant-hill that stood in the middle of one of theopenings. The elephant had passed close to the ant-hill--he had stoppedthere awhile--stay, he must have lain down.
Von Bloom did not know that elephants were in the habit of lying down.He had always heard it said that they slept standing. Swartboy knewbetter than that. He said that they sometimes slept standing, butoftener lay down, especially in districts where they were not muchhunted. Swartboy considered it a good sign that this one had lain down.He reasoned from it that the elephants had not been disturbed in thatneighbourhood, and would be the more easily approached and killed. Theywould be less likely to make off from that part of the country, untilthey--the hunters--had had a "good pull" out of them.
This last consideration was one of great importance. In a district whereelephants have been much hunted, and have learnt what the crack of a gunsignifies, a single day's chase will often set them travelling; and theywill not bring up again, until they have gone far beyond the reach ofthe hunters. Not only the particular individuals that have been chasedact in this way; but all the others,--as though warned by theircompanions,--until not an elephant remains in the district. Thismigratory habit is one of the chief difficulties which theelephant-hunter must needs encounter; and, when it occurs, he has noother resource but to change his "sphere of action."
On the other hand, where elephants have remained for a long timeundisturbed, the report of a gun does not terrify them; and they willbear a good deal of hunting before "showing their heels" and leaving theplace.
Swartboy, therefore, rejoiced on perceiving that the old bull had laindown. The Bushman drew a world of conclusions from that circumstance.
That the elephant had been lying was clear enough. The abrasion upon thestiff mud of the ant-heap showed where his back had rested,--the mark ofhis body was visible in the dust, and a groove-like furrow in the turfhad been made by his huge tusk. A huge one it must have been, as theimpression of it testified to the keen eyes of the Bushman.
Swartboy stated some curious facts about the great quadruped,--at least,what he alleged to be facts. They were,--that the elephant neverattempts to lie down without having something to lean his shouldersagainst,--a rock, an ant-hill, or a tree; that he does this to preventhimself rolling over on his back,--that when he does by accident getinto that position he has great difficulty in rising again, and isalmost as helpless as a turtle; and, lastly, that he often sleepsstanding beside a tree with the whole weight of his body leaning againstthe trunk!
Swartboy did not think that he leans against the trunk when first takingup his position; but that he seeks the tree for the shade it affords,and as sleep overcomes him he inclines towards it, finding that itsteadies and rests him!
The Bushman stated, moreover, that some elephants have their favouritetrees, to which they return again and again to take a nap during the hotmid-day hours,--for that is their time of repose. At night they do notsleep. On the contrary, the hours of night are spent in ranging about,on journeys to the distant watering-places, and in feeding; though inremote and quiet districts they also feed by day--so that it is probablethat most of their nocturnal activity is the result of their dread oftheir watchful enemy, man.
Swartboy communicated these facts, as the hunters all together followedupon the spoor.
The traces of the elephant were now of a different character, from whatthey had been before arriving at the ant-hill. He had been browsing ashe went. His nap had brought a return of appetite; and the wait-a-bitthorns showed the marks of his prehensile trunk. Here and there brancheswere broken off, stripped clean of their leaves, and the ligneous partsleft upon the ground. In several places whole trees were torn up bytheir roots, and those, too, of considerable size. This the elephantsometimes does to get at their foliage, which upon such trees growsbeyond the reach of his proboscis. By prostrating them of course he getstheir whole frondage within easy distance of his elastic nose, and canstrip it off at pleasure.
At times, however, he tears up a tree to make a meal of its roots--asthere are several species with sweet juicy roots, of which the elephantis extremely fond. These he drags out of the ground with his trunk,having first loosened them with his tusks, used as crowbars. At times hefails to effect his purpose; and it is only when the ground is loose orwet, as after great rains, that he can uproot the larger kinds ofmimosas. Sometimes he is capricious; and, after drawing a tree from theground, he carries it many yards along with him, flings it to theground, root upwards, and then leaves it, after taking a singlemouthful. Destructive to the forest is the passage of a troop ofelephants!
Small trees he can tear up with his trunk alone, but to the larger oneshe applies the more powerful leverage of his tusks. These he insertsunder the roots, imbedded as they usually are in loose sandy earth, andthen, with a quick jerk, he tosses roots, trunk, and branches, high intothe air,--a wonderful exhibition of gigantic power.
The hunters saw all these proofs of it, as they followed the spoor. Thetraces of the elephant's strength were visible all along the route.
It was enough to beget fear and awe, and none of them were free fromsuch feelings. With so much disposition to commit havoc and ruin in hismoments of quietude, what would such a creature be in the hour ofexcitement and anger? No wonder there was fear in the hearts of thehunters, unpractised as some of them were.
> Still another consideration had its effect upon their minds,particularly on that of the Bushman. There was every reason to believethat the animal was a "rover,"--what among Indian hunters is termed a"rogue." Elephants of this kind are far more dangerous to approach thantheir fellows. In fact, under ordinary circumstances, there is no moredanger in passing through a herd of elephants than there would be ingoing among a drove of tame oxen. It is only when the elephant has beenattacked or wounded, that he becomes a dangerous enemy.
With regard to the "rover" or "rogue," the case is quite different. Heis habitually vicious; and will assail either man or any other animal onsight, and without the slightest provocation. He seems to take apleasure in destruction, and woe to the creature who crosses his pathand is not of lighter heels than himself!
The rover leads a solitary life, rambling alone through the forest, andnever associating with others of his kind. He appears to be a sort ofoutlaw from his tribe, banished for bad temper or some other fault, tobecome more fierce and wicked in his outlawry.
There were good reasons for fearing that the elephant they were spooringwas a "rover." His being alone was of itself a suspicious circumstance,as elephants usually go, from two to twenty, or even fifty, in a herd.The traces of ruin he had left behind him, his immense spoor, all seemedto mark him out as one of these fierce creatures. That such existed inthat district they already had evidence. Swartboy alleged that the onekilled by the rhinoceros was of this class, else he would not haveattacked the latter as he had done. There was a good deal of probabilityin this belief of the Bushman.
Under these impressions, then, it is less to be wondered, that ourhunters felt some apprehensions of danger from the game they werepursuing.
The spoor grew fresher and fresher. The hunters saw trees turned bottomupward, the roots exhibiting the marks of the elephant's teeth, andstill wet with the saliva from his vast mouth. They saw broken branchesof the mimosa giving out their odour, that had not had time to wasteitself. They concluded the game could not be distant.
They rounded a point of timber--the Bushman being a little in theadvance.
Suddenly Swartboy stopped and fell back a pace. He turned his face uponhis companions. His eyes rolled faster than ever; but, although his lipsappeared to move, and his tongue to wag, he was too excited to giveutterance to a word. A volley of clicks and hisses came forth, butnothing articulate.
The others, however, did not require any words to tell them what wasmeant. They knew that Swartboy intended to whisper that he had seen "daoliphant;" so both peeped silently around the bush, and with their owneyes looked upon the mighty quadruped.