Chapter 19 - A Narrative of Hunting Adventures in Southern Africa by Mayne Reid
Decoying the Old Cock
It was not the process of mixing the arrow-poison, so much as the use to be made of it, that interested Klaas and Jan. They knew that the Bushman intended to try its effect on an ostrich that afternoon. More than that, Swartboy had promised they should actually see how he managed matters, and witness the death of the ostrich. With such a prospect before them, the boys were in high spirits all the fore-part of the day.
It was to be late in the afternoon, near sunset, in fact, before the sport should come off. Of course not till the return of the ostriches to their nest—for it was there the drama was to be enacted. The nest and its environs were to be the scene of the tragedy—the time a little before sunset. Such was Swartboy’s “programme.”
Of course Swartboy had leave from the older boys to go upon almost whatever expedition he pleased, but certainly upon this one, since Klaas and Jan were so interested about it. Indeed, some of the others would have liked to take part in the affair, but for certain reasons that could not be.
Some of the hunters had doubts as to the result. They knew the poisoned arrow would kill any ostrich. They did not doubt that. But how was Swartboy to get near enough to discharge one of his tiny shafts into the bird’s body? That was the question that puzzled them. He proposed doing so in broad daylight. Indeed there was no other time for him. All knew that before night the ostriches would return to their nest—as soon as the sun was low, and it became cooler,—but they knew also that the birds having found out what had happened in their absence would start off in alarm, and abandon the nest altogether.
Swartboy, therefore, would have no darkness to shelter him from their gaze. How was he to approach them within the range required for his small bow—that is, within less than fifty yards?
Did he intend to place himself in ambush and wait for their return? If he did, it must be near the nest, else he would have but a poor chance. There was no knowing in what direction the birds might come back, or which way they would scamper off again.
Now for Swartboy to conceal himself near the nest, all believed to be an impossibility. There was not a bit of cover within five hundred yards of the spot—neither bush nor stone big enough to conceal the body of a man from creatures less wary than ostriches, but from these a cat could not have hidden her carcass within a circle of a thousand yards diameter. As to Swartboy’s sinking a “shooting-hole” and lying await in that, the boys never thought of such a thing. A shooting-hole surrounded by bushes might do for a lion, or a rhinoceros, or an elephant, but no ostrich could be bamboozled by any such ruse; for these birds—that on account of their appearance have been called stupid by some superficial observers—are in reality the very reverse. The slightest alteration in the form of the ground, either around their nests or near it, would be noted by them, and would prevent them from approaching it, except after such a reconnoissance as would defeat all Swartboy’s plans. But he had no thought of a shooting-hole—nothing of the sort.
What plan, then, had he in his mind? The boys could not guess; and Swartboy, like all cunning hunters, did not care to tell his plans to everybody. He preferred letting them discover them by his acts; and as all of them were hunters themselves and boys of good breeding, they did not persecute him with idle questions, but watched his preparations in silence.
Now one of his preparations, made before starting, was to take the little fennec that had been killed in the morning, and “truss” it with a number of skewers, in such a way that it stood upright upon its legs, and at a short distance looked as if it was “alive and well!”
This was Swartboy’s last act, before setting out for the ostriches’ nest.
When it was finished, Swartboy observed that the sun was low enough, and taking the fennec under his army and his bow in his hand, he struck off over the plain.
The boys were to be spectators of the affair, but that was rather in a figurative sense. There were two pocket telescopes, and when Swartboy promised that Klaas and Jan should be witnesses of the thing, he had these telescopes in his mind. For certain reasons he could not take any of the boys along with him, and from the wary character of the game they could not go near enough to observe it with the naked eye. To have done so would have driven the ostriches out of Swartboy’s reach, for it has been already stated that these far-seeing birds can sight an enemy farther off than they can themselves be seen.
The telescopes, therefore, must be brought into play, and as Klaas and Jan begged to have the use of them, it was arranged that the two boys should climb into a tree, and describe what they saw to the rest, who stood below. That would be witnessing a spectacle by a sort of second sight, as Arend jocosely remarked.
Klaas and Jan were therefore hoisted up into a camel-thorn acacia; and, seating themselves on its branches, prepared their telescopes for use.
The elevation enabled them not only to see the nest, for that was visible from the ground, but the surface of the plain to a considerable distance beyond. They would thus be enabled to note every movement either Swartboy or the ostriches should make.
Now it has been stated that within a circle of five hundred yards radius from the nest, there was no cover that would have concealed a cat. With the exception of a stone here and there—none of them larger than a quartern loaf—the sandy surface was perfectly smooth and level as a table.
The boys had noticed this in the morning. Hendrik and Groot Willem had taken good notice of it, for they, as well as Swartboy, had thought of “waylaying” the ostriches on their return, but had given up the idea, from the fact of there being no cover to conceal them from the eyes of the wary birds.
But just outside the circumference mentioned, there was a chance of cover—a bush that by tight squeezing might have sheltered the body of a man. Both Hendrik and Groot Willem had seen this bush, but on account of its great distance from the nest they had never thought of its being used as a cover. Five hundred yards off,—it might as well have been five miles. Even had it been on the side by which the ostriches had gone off, and by which they, the hunters, conjectured they would return, the bush might have served. A shot might have been obtained as the birds came back to the nest. But it was not on that side,—on the very opposite—and in the direction of the camp. Neither Hendrik nor Groot Willem had entertained the idea of lying behind it.
Swartboy had; and to this bush now repaired Swartboy as straight as he could go. For what purpose? To conceal himself behind it, and wait for the ostriches. That was his design.
But what would his arrows avail—poisoned as they were—at the distance of five hundred yards? Ah! Swartboy knew what he was about. Let us record his movements in the words of Klaas and Jan, who watched them narrowly.
“Swartboy has reached the bush,” reported Jan; “he lays down his bow and arrows beside it. Now he has gone away from it. He is proceeding in a straight line towards the nest. He has the fox with him. See! he stops again,—a little beyond the bush he has halted—between it and the nest, but nearer the bush.”
“Very near the bush,” said Klaas; “not twenty yards from it, I’m sure.”
“Well, what does he do there?” demanded Hendrik. “He appears to be stooping?”
“He is stooping,” replied Jan. “Let me see! He’s got the fox in his hands, he is placing it on the ground! He has left it! I declare, it is standing by itself, as if it were alive!”
“It’s very clear what he intends by that,” said Hans; “I can understand now how he means to get the birds within range.”
“And I!” rejoined Hendrik.
“And I!” echoed Groot Willem.
“Now,” continued Jan, “he’s going on to the nest—he has reached it, and is walking round and round, and stooping and kicking with his feet. I can’t tell what he’s about—can you, Klaas?”
“I think,” replied Klaas, “he’s trying to cover up the broken shells we left there.”
“Oh! that’s exactly it!” said Jan. “See! he’s stooping over the nest, he has lifted an egg in his hand!”
It is to be remembered that only the fresh eggs were brought away in the morning. Those in the nest that had undergone hatching were of course let alone—all except one or two, that had been broken to “try” them.
“He’s coming back this way,” said Jan. “He has the egg in his hand! Now he has put it down right under the snout of the fox!”
“Ha!” ejaculated Hans, Groot Willem, and Hendrik, “how cunning of old Swart!”
“Now,” continued Jan, “he’s back to the bush: and now he’s squatted down behind it.”
After a little while both Klaas and Jan announced that Swartboy was making no further movements, but continued to lie quietly.
Now the secret of Swartboy’s strategy lay in his knowledge of a fact in natural history,—a knowledge of the antipathy that exists between the ostrich and the egg-eating fox. Swartboy’s experience had taught him the habits of the fennec, and also the hostile feeling of the ostrich towards this enemy. So strong is this feeling on the part of the bird, that whenever it sets its eye upon one of these creatures it will run directly towards it, for the purpose of destroying it. On such occasions the speed of the quadruped will not save it. Unless its burrow be nigh, or some thick bush or cleft among the rocks offer it a shelter, a single kick from the legs of the mighty bird at once puts an end to its prowling existence.
Swartboy knew all this, and for that reason had he set his decoy. Conspicuously placed, the birds would be sure to see it; and with their nest half plundered, and one of the eggs still under its very nose, they would not be slow in coming up to take revenge upon the poor fennec, the supposed robber, and to them well-known burglar.
“The ostriches are coming!” cried the sharp-sighted Jan, after a long pause.
“Where?” asked Klaas. “I don’t see them yet;—where, Jan?”
“Yonder,” replied Jan. “Beyond the nest,—far off.”
“Oh, now I see!” said Klaas; “just the way they went off in the morning; three of them,—a cock and two hens,—they are the same, I suppose.”
“Now they are getting up near the nest,” reported Jan; “now they are up to it. See them! What are they doing? they are running about in a terrible way. See! their heads move up and down,—they are striking with their legs. What are they about?”
“I think,” rejoined Klaas,—“I declare I think they are breaking the eggs.”
“Not a doubt of it,” remarked Hans. “That is always their way when they return and find the nest disturbed either by a human being or an animal. No doubt that is what they are at.”
Hendrik and Groot Willem confirmed this statement by their assent.
“Oh!” exclaimed Jan, “they have left the nest,—they are coming this way,—they are coming towards Swartboy,—how fast they run! Hey—they are upon the fennec! Ho! they have kicked it over! See, they are pecking it with their bills and knocking it about like a foot-ball. Hurrah! such a jolly game as is going on yonder!”
“What is old Swart doing, anyhow? They’re near enough for a shot.”
“He’s doing something,” answered Klaas. “I’m sure I saw him move. Did he not draw his bow yonder?”
“He did,” replied Jan; “he has let off an arrow. I saw his arms move suddenly. See, the ostriches are off again. Ho! they are quite gone!”
It was not so, however; for, although the three ran off on hearing the twang of the Bushman’s bow, they did not run far. After going some quarter of a mile or so, the cock began to droop his wings and run round in circles, the hens all the while following. His movements now became of a very eccentric kind, and it was plain that Swartboy’s arrow had pierced him, and the poison was doing its work. The bird reeled like a drunken man, once or twice fell to its knees, rose again, ran on a piece farther, flapping its wings, and vibrating its long neck from side to side; and then, staggering forward, fell upon the plain!
For several minutes it continued to flutter, kicking out with its strong limbs, and raising the dust as if it had been a buffalo. At length its struggles ceased, and it lay motionless upon the sand.
The two hens still continued near, and from their actions were evidently both surprised and alarmed. They did not, however, attempt to run off, until Swartboy, knowing they were far beyond the reach of his bow, rose up from his ambush, and walked towards them. Then both took to their heels, and scouring off over the plain, were soon out of sight. Klaas and Jan now reported that Swartboy was stooping over the dead cock, and, as they believed, skinning him.
That was exactly what Swartboy was doing, for, about an hour after, he came into camp carrying the skin upon his shoulders, and with an air of triumph, that plainly said— “Congo, could you do that?”