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Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia
Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia
Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia
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Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia

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"Buffalo, rhino, elephant, lions, leopards, antelopes, and hippos brought many an exciting day for Mr. Letcher...entertaining...a record of travel...an impression of a little-known territory...undoubtedly worth writing." -The Daily Telegraph, Nov. 22, 1911

"The country forming the most northerly part of Rh

LanguageEnglish
PublisherBookcrop
Release dateOct 26, 2023
ISBN9798868948596
Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia

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    Big Game Hunting in North-eastern Rhodesia - Owen Letcher

    PREFACE

    THIS book is intended to give some idea of the great game of North-Eastern Rhodesia, the characteristics and habits of the various animals, and the experiences which attended me in that country last year. To this narrative I have added information for visitors and sportsmen who propose visiting the territory, and also some account of the natives of North-Eastern Rhodesia. I have no doubt that some of my views on the African native will be very severely criticized, but it has been my express purpose in the following pages to set forth an honest account of what I saw and what befell me on my wanderings, and to record the impressions which I gained. If these are at variance with those of some who will read this book, I can only trust that they will not attribute to me any other motive than the main guiding principle which I have endeavoured to preserve throughout these pages, and that is to give a true and faithful account of what may be observed in Central Africa to-day, and to record certain convictions I have gained after not a little consideration of what I have seen and been told by reliable authorities.

    JOHANNESBURG, 1910.

    CHAPTER I. INTRODUCTORY

    So many books on Africa and its big game have been published during recent years that I suppose some sort of an apology is necessary for the appearance of this volume. My excuse for the publication of the notes compiled on my last African journey is that they deal with a part of the continent which is but little known even to the greatest of travellers and those sporting enthusiasts who bury themselves in the byways of the world for many months in order to secure some particularly coveted trophy. Consequently that portion of our African Empire with which this book is concerned has not been written of to any appreciable degree, and I have thought that my experiences in what is without question one of the most magnificent great game countries in the world may prove of interest to sportsmen and to those who love to wander where the land, its peoples, and its animals, are to-day as they have ever been. During the past decade Africa has been visited by large numbers of shooting-parties. The great majority of these have proceeded to British East Africa, where the fitting-out of safaris, or hunting expeditions, has, indeed, become the principal industry of the country. It is not unnatural that the visits of so many skilful shots, experienced travellers, and famous people, to East Africa should have resulted in the publication of a large amount of literature relative to the country lying between the Indian Ocean and Lake Victoria Nyanza, and the wonderful variety of fauna to be found in that beautiful land. But, as I shall attempt to show in this volume, North-Eastern Rhodesia is quite as good a big game country as British East Africa as far as game alone is concerned. It is true that more varied and lovely scenery is to be viewed in the East African Protectorate than in the northernmost dependency of the Chartered Company, and it is also true that British East Africa can boast of a much finer climate and far more comfortable travelling conditions than North-Eastern Rhodesia.

    But if a man is prepared to deny himself some of the comforts and glorious scenes of British East Africa, is ready to risk contracting fever, and possibly sleeping sickness, and sets out on his travels with big game, and big game only, filling his field of vision, he should have quite as successful a trip in North-Eastern Rhodesia as he could get in British East Africa, and at much less cost. The licences in North-Eastern Rhodesia are far cheaper than those of the East African Protectorate (in the former country a big game licence entitling the holder to kill four elephants and every other animal known to exist in that territory, with the exception of giraffe, costs £25 ; in British East Africa the big licence costs £80, and entitles the holder to shoot only two elephants and most of, but not all, the other animals), and native wages are less than those obtaining in East Africa.

    As to the numbers and variety of game in each territory, there is little to choose between the two countries. In my humble opinion, there is more game in North-Eastern Rhodesia than in British East Africa, but the former country is more densely wooded; one does not see so much game as is always visible on the great open plains traversed by the Uganda Railway, and the impression is naturally enough held by many, that British East Africa contains the greater number of wild animals. But on account of its forests, dense river-banks, and enormous swamps, North-Eastern Rhodesia is a truer hunting country than the East African Protectorate; for the presence of the dense cover increases the excitement and dangers of hunting, and allows more scope for skill in spooring, stalking, and quick shooting. The country is not so accessible as British East Africa, and this, perhaps, is its principal disadvantage from the point of view of the busy man who has three or four months to spare for a shooting expedition. But, on the other hand, it must be remembered that it is its very inaccessibility which lends to the country its principal charm, the fascination of a land untainted by the spread of civilization and artificiality. To my mind, the great drawback to the country is its association with sleeping sickness. This dread disease is spreading at an alarming rate. Already extensive regions in North-Eastern Rhodesia have been proclaimed infected areas, and restrictions are placed on the entry of hunters into these zones of disease. The medical world has much to learn of this devastating sickness, the means of infection, and the best directions in which to experiment for the finding of the, as yet, unknown cure. It seems almost as if science was still groping in the dark in its laudable efforts to check the advance of this most terrible malady, and we can scarcely yet tell what the sum and total of the horrors of sleeping sickness will be to the African continent. But, after all, the man who wants big game shooting and African travel without any dangers or privations cannot get it, and I for one am glad that, in these days of luxury, the greatest sport of the world has not been brought down to the comfortable artificiality of most other things.

    In concluding these opening words, I should like to thank all those good friends of mine who gave me such kindly advice and assistance during my recent 2,200 mile journey into the heart of the Dark Continent.

    I have always noticed that the kindest and best flourish in solitude rather than in the world's great cities, and with all my heart I thank those officials and settlers who lead their lonely lives in an outpost of this great Empire of ours of which we know so little, and who showed me true British hospitality in its most sincere form.

    CHAPTER II. WE ENTER NORTH-EASTERN RHODESIA

    NORTH-EASTERN RHODESIA, that huge territory which constitutes the most northerly domain of the British South Africa Company, and which, with the adjacent colony of Nyasaland, represents the most penetrating of John Bull's efforts from the south to gain Africa, is a part of the Dark Continent which is but little known even in the category of Africa's byways. In comparison with Matabeleland and Mashonaland, the province of which Fort Jameson is the capital is scarcely known at all; and even when compared with the sister sphere of the Chartered Company's rule north of the Zambesi, North-Western Rhodesia, it is a little-trodden outpost of the Empire. North-Eastern Rhodesia has no railways, and its industries, though of some promise, are as yet very minor factors in commerce; neither has it a tourists' Mecca like the Victoria Falls, nor such a mighty river as the Zambesi. It is landlocked, and counts as its neighbours the colonies of Germany, Belgium, and Portugal, as well as Great Britain. The country is not very accessible, there are few settlers, and most of the white inhabitants are officials. North-Eastern Rhodesia has, however, much to boast of, and has plenty to delight the eye of the traveller and sportsman. Those very factors which have militated against North-Eastern Rhodesia marching on the route of progress in company with the sister provinces under Chartered control have given to it characteristics which stamp this dependency as one of extraordinary interest. Because of its peculiar geographical situation, its inaccessibility, and its lack of proved mineral wealth, it can boast of one of the most varied, extensive, and densely-covered game countries of the world, and can point to a land teeming with natives, amongst them some of the most warlike and cruel known in Africa, albeit submitting peacefully and contentedly to the rule of a handful of white men; and if the province has not the Zambesi, it has the Luangwa, a tributary worthy of its outlet. It is in North-Eastern Rhodesia that one may best see and understand how Africa unadorned and wild may survive in its rudest form with just the edges of savagery tempered by a broad-minded and not superfluous administration, just sufficient to hold the country in the name of Britain and Rhodes.

    It is only a short time since the warlike and intensely cruel ambitions and customs of the Awemba were checked, and not so many months ago lions and leopards roamed around right inside the confines of the administrative capital of the country. Even at the present day, indeed, lions may sometimes be heard from the stoep, or veranda, of a Fort Jameson house. Although the most barbaric practices of the natives have now ceased, the various tribes of North-Eastern Rhodesia may still be observed in their primitive simplicity, untainted by the influence of high wages or the presence of railways, ports, or large labour-absorbing industries.

    As for the quantity and variety of the game, the highest tribute I can pay to the country from the point of view of sportsman or naturalist is to say that there are probably more wild animals in North-Eastern Rhodesia than in that favourite haunt of the big game shot, British East Africa, whilst there is not much to choose between the two dependencies in point of variety of fauna. Of scenery, too, North-Eastern Rhodesia has every reason to be proud. Some glorious tropical river scenes are to be viewed on the Luangwa, and I know of few things which are better calculated to permeate one's very being with the mysterious and all-absorbing fascination which only Africa can create than an evening on this river, when the glows of the sinking sun, the call of a thousand birds, the queer laughing grunts and blows of the hippopotamus, the roar of lions, and the continuous life-song of the Luangwa, now chanting its hymn of peace and now its anthem of savage nature, all assist in typifying the magnificent barbarism of the Dark Continent as it has ever been.

    It was on July 26, 1909, that Mr. Dillon Leonard and myself entered the territory of North-Eastern Rhodesia, having travelled overland from Salisbury, first of all with pack-donkeys and then with native porters. We sold the donkeys at Tete, a sleepy, picturesque Portuguese town, which has existed on the banks of the broad, sun-kissed Zambesi for hundreds of years. Here we crossed the great mother-river of South-East Africa, and continued our journey northwards through Chifumbaze (160 miles from the Zambesi), and entered British territory again close to Missale, where North-Eastern Rhodesia, Portuguese Zambesia, and Nyasaland meet.

    It was here that our first real adventures commenced. Three or four miles from Missale we came across a solitary white man almost in a dying condition. We were not traversing the beaten path at the time, and it was lucky for him that we were not on the main-road to Missale. He had severe dysentery, one of the worst evils that can befall a traveller in Africa, and, but for one faithful native piccanin, was quite alone and unattended. It was easy to see that he had suffered much from sickness, privation, and loneliness; and had we not found him, he could scarcely have lived many hours. My friend De Fries, who had shown Leonard and myself great hospitality at Chifumbaze, had him conveyed to his old camp, and after a day or two's rough nursing and rest there we escorted him in a machilla to Fort Jameson, and lodged him safely in hospital, where I am glad to say he quickly recovered.

    Close to Missale there are some capital shooting dambos (great open clearings in the bush, with small rivers and water-holes in them), and De Fries had kindly arranged to give us a shoot here. Unfortunately, it was too early in the year, the grass was unburnt, and the game scattered throughout the bush, and, although fresh spoor was there in abundance, we shot no buck.

    We got plenty of excitement out of this visit, however, as I shall proceed to relate. The morning after our arrival at Missale, De Fries sent boys on ahead to build a m'sasa in the dambo, as he thought there were plenty of hyænas out there, and, in all probability, lions as well.

    We arrived later in the afternoon, and were informed by De Fries's hunter boy that he had seen the fresh spoor of seven lions close to the m'sasa. I may here explain that a m'sasa is a roughly fenced enclosure, lightly stockaded by means of boughs of trees, etc., what a Dutchman would call a scherm, and what is known in Somaliland as a zareba. A m'sasa such as we built, whilst affording some sort of protection, would be of little avail against lions really intent on devouring the inmates. A lion is by no means fond of breaking through a m'sasa well protected by thorns; for should one of these run up into his sensitive pads, his happy hunting days are over for a considerable time—perhaps, if the wound festers, for ever. On the afternoon of our arrival in the dambo we went out hunting, but not one of us fired a shot, and after an early dinner we turned in, tired out with our day's work.

    We had about thirty natives with us then. They slept at the back of our beds, and just at midnight I woke out of a sound slumber to hear them all yelling, Inkangu! Inkangu! (Lion!

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