s
force is at the time directed will destroy life, it may be mentioned
that an eland, when hunted, can be dispatched by a wound which does
little more than injure the muscular system; its whole nervous force is
then imbuing the organs of motion; and a giraffe, when pressed hard by a
good horse only two or three hundred yards, has been known to drop down
dead, without any wound being inflicted at all. A full gallop by an
eland or giraffe quite dissipates its power, and the hunters, aware of
this, always try to press them at once to it, knowing that they have
but a short space to run before the animals are in their power. In doing
this, the old sportsmen are careful not to go too close to the giraffe's
tail, for this animal can swing his hind foot round in a way which would
leave little to choose between a kick with it and a clap from the arm of
a windmill.
When the nervous force is entire, terrible wounds may be inflicted
without killing; a tsessebe having been shot through the neck while
quietly feeding, we went to him, and one of the men cut his throat deep
enough to bleed him largely. He started up after this and ran more than
a mile, and would have got clear off had not a dog brought him to bay
under a tree, where we found him standing.
My men, having never had fire-arms in their hands before, found it so
difficult to hold the musket steady at the flash of fire in the pan,
that they naturally expected me to furnish them with "gun medicine",
without which, it is almost universally believed, no one can shoot
straight. Great expectations had been formed when I arrived among the
Makololo on this subject; but, having invariably declined to deceive
them, as some for their own profit have done, my men now supposed that I
would at last consent, and thereby relieve myself from the hard work of
hunting by employing them after due medication. This I was most willing
to do, if I could have done it honestly; for, having but little of the
hunting 'furore' in my composition, I always preferred eating the
game to killing it. Sulphur is the remedy most admired, and I remember
Sechele giving a large price for a very small bit. He also gave some
elephants' tusks, worth 30 Pounds, for another medicine which was to
make him invulnerable to musket balls. As I uniformly recommended that
these things should be tested by experiment, a calf was anointed with
the charm and tied to a tree. It proved decisive, and Sechele remarked
it was "pl
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