Chapter 13 - A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa by Mayne Reid
The Fennec and the Ostrich-Eggs
Before retiring to rest, the young yägers had resolved upon a pleasant performance for the morrow—that was, a “surround” of the ostriches. They had planned it that Hendrik and Groot Willem should go first, and ride a large circuit around, so as to get far beyond the nest. Arend and Hans would start shortly after taking different sides, while Klaas and Jan should cover the direction towards the camp. In this way the six, widely separated from each other, would enclose the birds in a circle; and when the latter became alarmed and started to run, they were to be “headed” by whoever was nearest, and turned back to the opposite side. This is the mode practised by the South African hunters, and is the only way by which the ostrich can be tired out and run down, for on such occasions, if the “surround” be well managed, the bird becomes confused, runs from one side to the other, and at length suffers itself to be captured or shot. It is a dangerous matter, however, to approach too near the game even when “blown” or wounded. A wounded ostrich has been known to send the hunter sprawling, and break a leg or an arm, or a pair of ribs, by one fling of its muscular limb! Hans, in his usual prudent way, had cautioned his companions to beware of this danger.
They all went to rest with feelings of pleasant anticipation for the morrow. They had high hopes they would either kill or capture the old cock, and pluck his snow-white plumes to add to their “trophies.”
The only drawback upon their plans appeared to be their number. They had doubts whether six could surround the ostriches, so as to head and turn them—especially as of the six two were little boys mounted on small ponies, for the chargers ridden by Klaas and Jan were of this character.
It was resolved, however, that Congo and Swartboy should help to form the circle. They had no horses, but both were active afoot, and either could run quite as fast as the ponies. The one armed with his assegais, and the other with his tiny bow and poisoned arrows, they would be well worth a place in the ring; and the ostriches would thus have eight, instead of six, points in the compass closed up against them. Add to this, that there were the six buck-dogs to assist them, and it will be acknowledged that their prospect of capturing the ostriches was not so bad.
Sad to say, their hopes of a brilliant day’s sport ended in complete disappointment. All their fine plans were frustrated by a singular occurrence.
A hyena during the night had stolen into camp, and had eaten up the girth and part of the flaps of Hendriks saddle; and before the damage could be repaired the ostriches had gone off from the nest.
They were still around it when the hunters arose, but the delay in mending the saddle was fatal to the plan of a “surround.” The morning was a hot sultry one, and the birds leaving their business to the sun, went early away. Just as the boys were mounting, they saw them move off in long strides towards the opposite side of the plain.
They were soon out of sight of the naked eye; but Hans followed them with his glass, until that also failed to keep them in view.
It was a great disappointment to everybody, just as it would be to a field of fox-hunters, who, after getting into the saddle, had found themselves driven back to their stables by frost and snow. Hendrik was particularly out of temper, on account of the ill luck that had befallen his saddle; and if a hyena had shown itself at that moment, it would have stood a fair chance of getting a bullet into its body. All the others, though in a less degree, shared Hendrik’s uncomfortable reflections.
All six sat chafing in their saddles, not knowing what to do.
“Let us ride out to the nest,” proposed Arend. “At all events, the eggs have not ‘stole away.’ We’ll get them, and, by the way, I shouldn’t object to an omelette for breakfast,” (they had not yet breakfasted:) “I’m tired enough of venison and dry biltong. What say you?”
“By all means,” rejoined Groot Willem; “let us bring in the eggs, and breakfast on them—that is, if they’re not too far gone. I should like an egg for breakfast myself. Come on then!”
“Stop!” cried Hans; “stop a moment, yägers! Perhaps we’ll not be disappointed—we may have a chase yet.”
Hans had the glass to his eye as he spoke.
“What!” inquired several; “are they coming back?”
Hans made no reply for a moment. He could not be looking after the ostriches. His telescope was pointed in the direction of the nest. The birds were not there!
“It is it!—it is! the very creature itself!” exclaimed Hans, in a half-soliloquy.
“What is it? what creature?” demanded the boys.
“The fox!” replied Hans.
“What fox!”
“Why, the fennec—the same I saw last night—yonder it is, though you can’t see it with the naked eye. I can barely make it out with the glass. It is up close by the nest of the ostriches, and appears busy about something.”
“The eggs, I warrant,” suggested Groot Willem.
“A fox-chase! a fox-chase!” exclaimed Hendrik, partially recovering temper.
“A fox-chase!” echoed Klaas and Jan.
“A fox-chase be it then,” assented Hans; and all six set their horses in motion, whistling to the buck-dogs to follow.
They headed directly for the ostriches’ nest. They were not going to make a circuit for such an insignificant creature as the little fennec. They knew that it could only escape them by getting to a hole, as they had dogs that could trail and run it down go where it would. It was probable that its burrow was not very near. It had evidently strayed away from home, and “dogged” the ostriches to their nest, so as to get at their eggs. Swartboy alleged that such was its habit—that it was fonder of eggs than any other food—and that the eggs of the great bird were its particular favourites. That it was constantly roving about in search of ostrich-nests; and as these are very difficult, even for a fox to find, the fennec, when it suspects that the ostriches are laying, will follow them for miles to discover the nest—just as Hans had seen this one do.
Swartboy had given all this information on the preceding night, which, of course, explained the mystery of such a small creature running upon the trail of the great ostriches. It was not them, but their eggs, it wanted.
Now there was still a mystery Swartboy had not explained; and that was, how this animal, when it found the eggs, was able to get at their contents? The shell of the ostrich-egg is thick and strong. It requires a considerable blow with some hard weapon to break it, and how a puny creature, like the little fennec, could effect a breach was a mystery to all, but especially to the naturalist Hans. The fennec was no stranger to him. He had seen many of them in captivity. He knew something of their anatomy. He knew that their skulls were destitute of the ridge in which the temporal muscles are inserted, and that consequently they were weak-jawed animals—much more so than the common fox. It was not possible for them to have broken the shell of an ostrich-egg with their jaws. He knew that it was equally impossible for them to effect that purpose with the claws of their feet—the soles of which are covered with soft wool, as in the Arctic fox—a peculiarity considering that the fennec is an inhabitant of the hottest climes, and one quite unexplained by naturalists!
From the strength and structure of the animal, Hans believed it could no more have got at the contents of an ostrich-egg than it could have eaten its way into the heart of a bomb-shell.
Swartboy was here at fault. He only knew that it did get at the contents, white and yolk; but how he had never observed. He could not tell. He could not solve the mystery.
They had not long to wait in doubt about this matter. In less than ten minutes after, the fennec himself presented the solution before the astonished eyes of the young yägers.
When they had ridden up within some three hundred yards of the nest the little animal came under the view of all, and they pulled up to watch his manoeuvres. He was so busy about his own affairs, that he had not perceived their approach. The ground was covered with soft sand, so that the hoofs made no noise, and with all his keen sense of hearing—for he possesses that in proportion to his large ears—he had not caught a sound. He was hard at work, and never looked towards them. In fact, he was seen to raise his head at intervals, and look towards the point whither the ostriches had gone, and all his gazing was in that direction. The party had, therefore, a good view of the animal without being observed by him; and they watched his manoeuvres with interest.
Swartboy and the Kaffir held the dogs in their leashes, and all remained silent as statues.
Now what was the little fennec doing?
At first the spectators were puzzled to make out, but presently all was explained.
When they first saw him he was at a distance of several yards from the nest, and going farther from it, on the opposite side to that where the hunters had halted. His tail was towards them, and the fore-part of his body appeared to be raised as if his paws rested upon something. This something was seen to be an ostrich’s egg. He was pushing it before him along the ground, using his feet alternately, and forcing the egg to turn. This action was similar to that of some unfortunate fellow on the tread-mill, except that it was voluntary on the part of the fennec.
Now why was he rolling the egg? Did he mean to transport it in that way to his burrow? It would have been an arduous task, as it was not likely his subterranean dwelling was anywhere in that neighbourhood.
But he had no such design. His intention was to eat his breakfast on that very spot, or at all events very near it; and the spectators soon saw where his table was to be spread, for some of them now remembered an odd story they had heard of the caama, and already suspected his design.
About three or four yards from his snout lay a stone. It was a boulder of small dimensions, some twelve inches in height, but quite large enough for the fennec’s purpose. It was evident that he had a purpose with this stone, for he was rolling the egg directly towards it. Those who had guessed his design were not disappointed. When his snout was within about three feet of the stone, the fennec made a sudden rush forward, carrying the egg along by a rapid motion of his feet, until the hard shell came in contact with the harder rock.
A “crash” reached the ears of the hunters, and, looking attentively, they saw that the egg was broken into “smithereens!”
The breakfast of the fennec was now before him, and he at once set about eating it, but the hunters were hungry too, their patience could hold out no longer, and spurring their horses and letting slip the dogs, they galloped forward.
It was a short run for a fox to give. The creature had hardly made good a couple of hundred yards, before the buck-dogs threw him; and it was just as much as Swartboy could do, aided by his jambok of hippopotamus-hide, to save his beautiful skin from their jaws.
The eggs were soon collected. Those in the nest had “gone too far,” as Groot Willem had feared: some contained chicks, and others were addled. But of the ones scattered about several turned out quite fresh, so that the hunters had omelette for breakfast, as they had wished.
Swartboy showed them how to cook the eggs to perfection. This mode was to set one end in the ashes, break a hole in the other, and then with a little stick keep stirring the contents until they were sufficiently broiled. That is an omelette of ostrich-eggs.