BUSH BUCK, a medium-sized but very courageous antelope (Tragelaphus scriptus). It was a long time since mother and son had been together, and if the difference between them was remarkable, the likeness seemed to me more striking still. He had no second driver to help him; he did no shouting; he walked along heavily and with difficulty beside the span, playing the long whip lightly about as he gave the word to go or called quietly to individual oxen by name, but he did not touch them; and when he paused to ‘blow’ them he leaned heavily on his whip-stick to rest himself. Lions, hyenas, and others leave what they cannot eat and return to it for their next feed; but tigers are more provident and more cunning, and—being able to climb trees—they are very much more difficult to follow or waylay by means of their kill. Jock was still holding on grimly, tugging with all his might and always with the same movement of swinging it round him, or, of himself circling round it—perhaps that is the fairer description, for the porcupine was much the heavier. I can see why this would be a hit with children, being about a boy and his loyal dog companion's exploits in the African bushveldt. Without any doubt he had expected to find the koodoo there and had dealt with the aasvogels as trespassers; otherwise he would not have tackled them without word from me. Sometimes after having crawled up I would be in the act of aiming when he would press up against me. Hall’s legs were firmly gripping Tsetse behind the ears while he sprawled on his stomach on Snowball’s crupper, with the reins still in one hand and the rifle in the other. Now, a horse with a man on his back swims low—only the head and half the neck showing above water—and by what instinct or means the horses realised the position I do not know, but, with little hesitation and apparently of one accord, they got back a yard or two from the ledge and, raising first one fore foot and then the other, literally climbed out—exactly as a man or a dog does out of a swimming bath—hoisting their riders out with them without apparent difficulty. For over half an hour, however, nothing came towards me, and believing then that the game had broken off another way, I was about to return to camp when I heard the tapping of galloping feet a long way off. He does not hear when you speak. From there the scoured red streaks stood out revealed as road tracks—for, made road there was none; from there, lines of whitish rock and loose stones and big boulders, that one had taken for the beds of mountain torrents, stood revealed as bits of ‘road,’ linking up some of the broken sections of the route; but even from there not nearly all the track was visible. Superbly beautiful rooms and very spacious. Heavens, what a scene! He was perfectly respectful; every order to be quiet or go away or go to bed was received with the formal raising of the hand aloft, the most respectful of salutations, and the assenting, “Inkos!” but in the very next breath would come the old monotonous request, “Funa ’nyama, Inkos,” just as if he was saying it for the first time. Most of them sooner or later realise that they are only harming themselves by ill-treating their own cattle; and that is one—but only the meanest—reason why the white man learns to drive better than the native, who seldom owns the span he drives; the better and bigger reasons belong to the qualities of race and the effects of civilisation. This, according to the natives, is the system of the wild pack. There are few things more deceptive than the tropical storm. Teddy’s spirits were always up; his presence breathed a cheery optimism on the blankest day; his humour lighted everything; his stories kept us going; and his language was a joy for ever. I thought that they had had enough of Jock for one day and that they would strike work and leave me, probably returning later on to steal the meat while I went for help from the waggons. I heard it strike. The day he caught the monkey he was well pleased, and may possibly have told the truth. Jock moved steadily along the trodden track, sliding easily through the grass or jumping softly and noiselessly over impediments, and we followed, looking ahead as far as the winding course of the trail permitted. On the top of the world the storms work all their fury. It pleased him and others to say that this was the same crocodile; and I believe it was. Being alone that day I had no intention of having a swim or of going into the open river, and I took a little trouble to pick a suitable pool with a rock on which to stand and dress. Then the same idea struck us all together, and “Buggins is lost” came from several—all choking with laughter. Jock proves he is not the runt but a brave hero dog. The Lion roared to them, so that all could hear, to watch the hill where the Jackal stood and see the sign of victory; and the Things of the Earth, being strong, gathered together again and withstood the enemy and drove them off. There was very little wanton shooting with us, for when we had more fresh meat than was required, as often happened, it was dried as ‘bultong’ for the days of shortage which were sure to come. A couple of leaves fluttered down, and then the half-eaten pip of a ‘wooden orange’ struck me in the face as I lay back again to see what was going on above. I raised myself by inches, close to the rock, until I could see over it. That was Mungo Park—the long, strong, low-built, half-bred Basuto pony—well-trained and without guile. “Of course,” added Bob with a wag of his head, “you can say it was only a cub; but it takes a good man to go up naked and tackle a thing like that, with teeth and claws to cut you into ribbons.”, “Was Jim here to-day?” I asked, as soon as there was an opening. Once more the koodoo came in sight—just a chance at four hundred yards as he reached an open space on rising ground. It turned out, as usual, that he had seen a great deal more than his master had. The following evening however it came out. The knees seemed to give way: they could not remain standing. The koodoo lying partly on its side, with both hind legs hampered by the mass of dead wood, could not rise, but it swept the clear space in front with the terrible horns, and for some time kept Jock at bay. The Berg stood up before us like an impassable barrier. One day I was watching the ants as they travelled along their route—sometimes stopping to hobnob with those they met, sometimes hurrying past, and sometimes turning as though sent back on a message or reminded of something forgotten—when a little dry brown bean lying in a spot of sunlight gave a jump of an inch or two. I used always to keep some fowls with the waggons, partly to have fresh meat if we ran out of game, but mainly to have fresh eggs, which were a very great treat; and as a rule it was only when a hen turned obstinate and would not lay that we ate her. Time and place and things had failed him; still was effort right; and, when the first was clear beyond all question, it was instinct and not knowledge bade him still go on, saying: “Not back to the cage. The foremost of the pack followed hot foot close behind the buck—oblivious of fire and men, seeing nothing but the quarry—and at a distance of five yards a mixed volley of bullets and assegais tumbled it over. See it! He said that the puppies’ tails ought to be docked, and that a bull-terrier would be no class at all with a long tail, but you should on no account clip his ears. When it came to crossing the Crocodile River we chose the widest spot in the hope that it would be shallow and free of rocks. One of the hens had done this, and the bush she had chosen was very low and dense. Jock is the faithful dog and companion of a transport rider. Whenever a flat-topped thorn, a quaint ant-heap, a patch of tambookie grass, or a forked marula came in sight, I would turn off to see if they were the same we had passed coming out. And there were others too that struck another chord: the cattle, the poor dumb beasts that had worked and died: stepping-stones in a man’s career; the ‘books,’ the ‘chalk and blackboard’ of the school—used, discarded, and forgotten! Ingwenye Umkulu! Once, when he had broken bounds and left the waggons, I threatened that if he did it again I would tie him up, since he was like a dog that could not be trusted; and I did it. Shangaan, Sam; Shangaan!”. Once I saw a low light-coloured form steal across the road, and took a shot at it; but rifle-shooting at night is a gamble, and there was no sign of a hit. A much-needed diversion. Jim was a heathen, and openly affirmed his conviction that a Christian kaffir was an impostor, a bastard, and a hypocrite—a thing not to be trusted under any circumstances whatever. The result was that Tom generally had all his trouble for nothing; but it was not always so. The rivers, fed from the replenished mountains’ stores, ran full but clear; the days were bright; the nights were cold; the grass was rank and seeding; and it was time to go. The height and distance that they clear is simply incredible. But Jock was not to be caught that way; in a fight he took in the whole field, behind as well as in front—as he had shown the night the second wild dog tackled him. Old Pezulu was the only one who knew what was meant, and being a terribly fussy nervous old gentleman, came tearing out of the bush making a lot of noise, and scrambled hastily on to the waggon. “He is afraid you’ll get lost!” and so on; and they were still chaffing about it when I grabbed “The Rat” and took him back again. There was another burst of laughter as they guessed my thoughts, and it was Bob who answered me: “Only a lion, lad—not a wild man or a lunatic! 300 pounds; horns, 15 inches. “Is it as I told you? But there are exceptions to every rule; and Jim’s stoicism was not equal to this occasion. The salary was nominal, but the position bristled with opportunities for one who was not very particular; and the then occupant of the office seemed well enough pleased with the arrangement, whatever the public may have thought of it. The Boy stepped out once more. No one took Rocky on unnecessarily; and at his leisure he resumed: “Thar’s brave men; an’ thar’s fools; an’ you kin get some that’s both. There were also some golden hairs sticking on the stumpy end of a broken branch, which may have had something to do with Jock’s scraped sides. At the moment we were in rather open ground, and finding that Jock was still very suspicious I moved on towards where the bush was thicker and we were less likely to be seen from a distance. Much greater and real cruelty I have seen done by work and punishment; but it was due to ignorance, impatience, or—on rare occasions—uncontrollable temper; it did not look deliberate and wanton. But apart from this the baboon was an exceptionally big and powerful one, and it is very doubtful if any dog could have tackled it successfully in an open fight. Water, never too plentiful in certain parts, was sadly diminished by the drought, and it sometimes took us three or even four treks to get from water to water. There were six puppies, and as the waggons were empty we fixed up a roomy nest in one of them for Jess and her family. Up the winding pathway over rocky ledge and grassy slope, climbing for an hour to the pass, the toil and effort kept the hot thoughts under. Then he would stalk back again and disappear, to repeat the performance on another side a little later on. Kill! That was the best, or at any rate the first, course to be tried. What he had mastered rose beyond control. When they allowed us to catch up to them time after time, it was not because they did not expect us. KETSHWAYO (pronounced ketsh-wy-o), incorrectly Cetywayo, fourth and last of the great Zulu kings. We want to ask if there is anyone who wants to help Patricia with a small donation towards the Vet's Bill, please send us a message on 082 056 8209 and we can send you the banking details Thank you so much The Jock of the Bushveld Team 04/06/2020 . But Jock still came on—a little more carefully and slowly perhaps, but just as steadily as ever. We were on high ground which fell gently away on three sides—a long spur running down to the river between two of the numberless small watercourses scoring the flanks of the hills. You can make what you like of it. I did not quite know what he meant, and it seemed safer not to inquire. Spans are compared; individual oxen discussed in minute detail; and the reputations of ‘front oxen,’ in pairs or singly, are canvassed as earnestly as the importance of the subject warrants—for, “The front oxen are half the span,” they say. They sneaked behind bushes and tried to circumvent him in all sorts of ways, but fled precipitately as soon as he moved a step or lowered his head and humped his shoulders threateningly. They were not to be reassured, either: the only effect produced by our laughing comments and friendly overtures being that the head which deemed itself pointedly addressed would disappear completely and remain so long out of sight as to make us feel quite smothery and criminally responsible. a rock-jumper). The bush was very open, and yet, even with his raised rifle to guide me, I could not for the life of me see what he was aiming at. My mother read this to me when we spent a holiday in the Eastern Transvaal (now Mpumalanga), South Africa. It was at first merely a narrow tunnel in the undergrowth up the steep hillside, through which we crept in single file with the two dogs a few yards in front; they moved on in the same silent deliberate way, so intent and strung up that they started slightly and instantly looked up in front at the least sound. Not one driver in a hundred would have done then what he did: they would have tried other courses first. Me! All on both sides were watching me and waiting for the shot. According to history, Percy actually told stories of Jock and his adventures to his 3 children at bedtime. We found the trap sprung and the bait untouched. Vinnige Aflewering Ontvang produkte in ongelooflike tyd. Close beside it there was the clear mark of a heeled boot, and there were others further on. “I beg your pardon: it was an accident! For anyone who has spent time in the bush - Percy is succour to any hankering your soul may have for the open skies. He had liquor in his saddle bags and food for several days; but he was not used to the bush, and at the end of the first day he had lost his way and was beyond the river district where the kaffirs lived. There was a day at Kruger’s Post when everything seemed small beside the figure of one black front ox, who held his ground when all others failed. These experiences had been mine, some of them many times, in spite of Rocky’s example and advice; and they were always followed by a fresh stock of good resolutions. Jim realised this well enough, for when wishing to direct his attention to strange dogs or Shangaans, the villain could always dodge me by stamping or hammering on the ground, and Jock always looked up: he seemed to know the difference between the sounds he could ignore, such as chopping wood, and those that he ought to notice. The smell of the baked drought-bound earth; the faint clearing and purifying by the first few drops; the mingled dust and damp; the rinsed air; the clean sense of water, water everywhere; and in the end the bracing sensation in nostrils and head, of, not wind exactly, but of swirling air thrust out to make room for the falling rain; and, when all was over, the sense of glorious clarified air and scoured earth—the smell of a new-washed world! Why! Their method of fighting is to hold the dog with all four feet and tear pieces out of him with their teeth. The Boy woke up shivering, dazed, bewildered: the mountain of his dreams had vanished; and his dog was not there! Under the down-trodden grass there were plenty of dry sticks to step on, any of which would have been as fatal to our chances as a pistol shot, and even the unavoidable rustle of the grass might betray, us while the buffalo themselves remained hidden. I sat down with my back against the rock and a funny choky feeling in my throat. The hospitality there is also amazing, the staff took extra care of us. The day Jock fought the two big puppies—one after the other—for his bone, and beat them off, was the day of his independence; we all saw the tussle, and cheered the little chap. In a fighting nation Jim’s kraal was known as a fighting one, and the turbulent blood that ran in their veins could not settle down into a placid stream merely because the Great White Queen had laid her hand upon his people and said, “There shall be peace!” Chaka, the ‘black Napoleon’ whose wars had cost South Africa over a million lives, had died—murdered by his brother Dingaan—full of glory, lord and master wherever his impis could reach. As he sat in the shade of the high bank, however, with the river only a few yards from his feet he heard again a faint chattering: it came from the river-side beyond a turn in the bank, and it was too far away for the bird to have seen Jantje from where it called, so he had no doubt about this being a new bird. They were softened out of all recognition: there is only one word for it, they sounded ‘confidential.’ Then as we listened I could make out the soft silky rustling of the rich undergrowth, and presently, could follow, by the quivering and waving of odd reeds, the movements of the animals themselves. Once, as we walked along, he paused to look at some freshly overturned ground, and dropped the one word, ‘Pig.’ We turned then to the right and presently came upon some vlei ground densely covered with tall green reeds. They did not even ask his name; it made no difference. We had practically nothing to eat but what we shot, and nothing to drink but bush tea—that is, tea made from a certain wild shrub with a very strong scent; it is not nice, but you drink it when you cannot get anything else. And what can they see from there? He gave a sort of peck, blinked several times to clear his eyes, and then with his left hand pulled slightly at his collar, as though to ease it. Expect he’ll lay for us in the track somewhere.”, That is the way of the wounded buffalo—we all knew that; and old Rocky’s advice came to mind with a good deal of point: “Keep cool and shoot straight—or stay right home;” and Jock’s expectant watchful look smote me with another memory—“It was my dawg!”. And there was a day at Sand River, when we saw a different picture. As it was he dropped with a sickening thump; yet even as he fell I saw again the scrambling tearing movement, as if he was trying to race back to the fight even before he reached ground. 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