CHAPTER XLIV

Excursion into the Savanna—Two Horsemen—The Ostrich Hunt—The Nest—The Land Turtles

We began our march at daylight, and, after having journeyed on for about two hours, I gave the signal for a halt, as about gunshot from the defile which separated the two countries appeared to me to be a favourable spot for our encampment. It was situated on an elevated point that commanded a far extended prospect, and was defended on one side by a thick pine forest.

Fritz wanted me, before quitting the place, to leave, as a mark of our passage, a fortress, after the manner of the Kamschatkans, which is simply composed of some boards, elevated by stones at each corner, to a height sufficient to keep out all savage animals. Before commencing this work, we made an investigation of the forest round about; but we discovered nothing but two “margays,” or wild cats, who fled into the forest before we could level a gun at them.

The rest of the morning was devoted to the fortification of our encampment. We then dined; but the heat was so powerful that we were obliged to postpone our excursion into the savanna until the morrow.

Nothing troubled the repose of the night. We were up at daylight, and in a few moments our preparations were complete. I took with me my three eldest sons, as I wished to be in force on entering into a country as yet unknown. Francis remained with his mother to take care of the baggage; and, after breakfast, we packed some provisions, and took leave of our good mother, who saw us depart without uneasiness.

We passed through the defile, at the extremity of which we had erected a palisade of bamboo and thorny palm; but it had all been torn down, and we could easily trace on the sand the spiral imprints of the boa, clearly demonstrating that he had come from savanna through this passage. I intended to erect a solid rampart here, that should be proof against the attack of any animal; but I was obliged to defer the execution of the plan until some other time.

We had now ventured into a country we had entered but once before. Jack recognized the place where we had taken the buffalo; the river which divided the plain was bordered by a rich line of vegetation. We followed its course for some time, and arrived at the grotto where my son had taken the young jackal; but the farther we advanced vegetation disappeared, and we soon found ourselves in the middle of an immense plain, only bounded by the horizon. The sun beat right down on our heads, the sand burned our feet—in one word, it was a desert—a desert without a single tree—a desert of sand, the only green things being a few withered geraniums and some sort of grass that contrasted strangely with the aridity of the soil. On crossing the river, we had filled our gourds with fresh water, but the sun had heated it so that we could not drink it, and we were obliged to throw it away.

After two hours of painful journeying we arrived at the foot of a hill that we had perceived afar off: it was a rock that elevated itself in the middle of the desert, and afforded us a refuge against the rays of the sun. We were too fatigued to climb the rock and reconnoitre the country: we could scarcely stand against the overpowering rays of the sun, and our dogs were as tired as ourselves; we were isolated in the middle of the desert, and could see the river in the distance, like a silver thread, winding through its green banks. It was like the Nile, beheld from a mountain under the burning sun of Nubia.

We had scarcely been seated five minutes when Master Knips, who had accompanied us, suddenly disappeared over the rock, having probably scented some brother monkeys in the neighbourhood; our dogs, also, and the jackal deserted us; but we were too tired to call them back.

I brought out some morsels of sugar-cane and distributed them among the boys, for our thirst was terrible. This refreshment restored our appetites, and some rounds of roast peccary furnished us with an excellent repast.

Suddenly Fritz, whose excellent sight was always making discoveries, cried out,

“What do I see! There are two horsemen galloping up towards us. There, a third has joined them—doubtless they are Arabs of the desert.”

“Arabs!” said Ernest! “Bedouins you mean.”

“Bedouins are but one division of the great family of Arabs, and your brother was right,” said I; “but take my spy-glass, Fritz; your news astonishes me.”

“Oh, I see now a number of waggons loaded with hay; but they are so distant I can scarcely distinguish anything; something extraordinary is certainly going on.”

“Let me have the glass,” cried Jack, impatiently; and he declared he saw a crowd of cavaliers who carried little lances, with banners at the point.

“Come, give me the glass now,” said I; “your imaginations are too poetic to be relied upon.”

I applied the glass to my eye, and, after having looked some time attentively—

“Well,” said I to Jack, “your Arabs, your cavaliers with lances, your hay-carts, what do you think they have been transformed into?”

“Camelopards, perhaps.”

“No; although not a bad idea, yet they are ostriches, and chance has thrown a splendid chase into our hands; and if you will take my advice, we will not let these beautiful inhabitants of the desert pass us by without measuring our strength with theirs.”

The ostriches were rapidly approaching, and it was time to think of some mode of capturing them. It seemed to me that the best way would be to wait until they came up, and then attack them by surprise. I ordered Fritz and Jack to go in search of the dogs, whilst Ernest and I sought some shelter to conceal us from the ostriches. We threw ourselves down behind some large tufts of a plant that grew among the rocks, and which I recognized as the euphorbia, commonly called wolf’s milk, and the juice of which is one of the most active poisons in the world.

Jack and Fritz now returned with our faithful companions, whom, from their wet skins, we easily judged to have been taking a bath somewhere.

The ostriches were now within eyesight, and I could distinguish that the family was composed of three females and a male, who was easily recognized by the long white feathers of his tail. We crouched closer to the ground, and held our dogs close to our sides, for fear lest their impatience should defeat our stratagem.

I now perceived that the ostriches were aware of our presence—they appeared to hesitate in their march; but, as we remained immovable, they at last seemed reassured, and were advancing directly to us, when our dogs, whom we could not keep quiet, suddenly sprang out upon them. Away went the timid birds, with a rapidity that can be compared to nothing else but the wind driving before it a bundle of feathers. Their feet did not appear to touch the ground, their half-extended wings had the appearance of sails, and the wind greatly accelerated their velocity. I then ordered Fritz to unhood his eagle; he did so, and the noble bird soon lit upon the head of the male ostrich, and, attacking his eyes, brought him to the ground. The dogs and the jackal ran up, and when we arrived the gigantic bird was just expiring under the numerous wounds that the ferocious animals had inflicted.

We were greatly disappointed at this issue of our chase; but, as the evil was without remedy, we contented ourselves with preserving the lifeless corpse. The eagle and jackal were immediately taken away, as being the most ferocious. We then deprived the unfortunate animal of the white plumes in the tail, and we placed them proudly in our hats. The rich and sumptuous feathers contrasted strangely with our old worn-out beavers; but they were an excellent protection against the rays of the sun.

“What a pity,” said Fritz, as we examined the gigantic proportions of the bird, “what a pity to have put such a magnificent bird to death!—how beautiful it would have looked stalking among our domestic animals!”

While we were talking, Jack and Ernest, who had followed the jackal, made some great discovery, and we soon saw them waving their plumed hats in the air, and shouting to us to hurry on,

“A nest!” they cried, “an ostrich’s nest!—Quick—quick!”

We hurried on, and found the two boys standing over a large ostrich-nest—if we can dignify a hole dug in the ground by the name of nest—in which were symmetrically arranged from twenty-five to thirty eggs, each as large as a child’s head.

My sons wanted to carry away the ostrich-eggs; they would hatch them, they said, by exposing them in the daytime to the rays of the sun, and wrapping them up as warm as possible at night.

I observed to Fritz, who made the proposal, that each of these eggs weighed about three pounds, and the whole number about one hundred pounds, and that, having neither equipage nor beast, it would be impossible to transport them across a desert, through which we could hardly drag our arms and knapsacks; besides, I doubted whether artificial heat could replace the natural influence. But the children had got the idea into their heads, and they agreed that each one should take one egg, which he should carry in his pocket-handkerchief. The little boys soon repented of their agreement, and they changed their burden from hand to hand, with all the signs of ennui and fatigue. I came to their assistance, and advised them to cut some branches from a low sort of pine that grew about the rocks, and make a basket to carry their eggs, as the Dutch milk-women carry their milk-pots. My plan succeeded admirably, and my boys began their march without the slightest complaint.

We then arrived at the borders of a swamp that seemed to be formed by the confluence of several springs that flowed from the rocks; we could trace the marks of the dogs and the monkey, and recognized this as the place where they had wet themselves. We could perceive, in the distance, troops of buffaloes, monkeys, and antelopes, but so far from us that we took no further notice of them; nothing, however, indicated to us the presence of a boa, or that such animals resided here. We halted at this marsh, and refreshed ourselves with some provisions; and then, filling our empty gourds with water, prepared to depart, when we perceived the jackal had made a discovery. It was a round object which he had dug out of the sand with his paws; it resembled a mass of moist earth, and I threw it into the water to clean it, when, what was my astonishment to see it move! I took it out, and, on examining it, discovered it to be a turtle of the smallest kind, scarcely as large as an apple.

“How is this?” said Fritz. “I thought that turtles inhabited the sea only.”

“Who knows?” said Ernest; “perhaps there has been a shower of turtles here, as the Romans formerly had a shower of frogs.”

“Stop there,” said I to the philosopher; “your irony does not show your learning. Perhaps you do not know that there are land as well as sea-turtles. They are not only found in swamps, but even in gardens, where they subsist on snails, caterpillars, and all sorts of insects.”

“Well, then,” replied Ernest, “let us carry some home to mamma. She would like them to put in her garden; we will also put one in our cabinet of natural history.”