It was a glorious sight to see the herd of
upwards of a hundred of these superb animals close up at the
alarm of the shots, and pelt away in a dense body through the
dark green mimosa bush that hardly reached to their shoulders;
but pursuit was useless. My giraffe was not quite dead, and, the
throat having been cut by the Arabs and Richarn, we attempted to
flay our game; this was simply impossible. The seroot fly was in
swarms about the carcase, thousands were buzzing about our ears
and biting like bull-dogs: the blood was streaming from our
necks, and, as I wore no sleeves, my naked arms suffered
terribly. I never saw such an extraordinary sight; although we
had killed our giraffe, we could not take possession; it was no
wonder that camels and all domestic animals were killed by this
horrible plague, the only wonder was the possibility of wild
animals resisting the attack. The long tails of the giraffes are
admirable fly-whippers, but they would be of little service
against such a determined and blood-thirsty enemy as the seroot.
They were now like a swarm of bees, and we immediately made war
upon the scourge, by lighting several fires within a few feet to
windward of the giraffe; when the sticks blazed briskly, we piled
green grass upon the tops, and quickly produced a smoke that
vanquished the enemy.
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