Thank you for correcting the text in this article. Your corrections improve Papers Past searches for everyone. See the latest corrections.

This article contains searchable text which was automatically generated and may contain errors. Join the community and correct any errors you spot to help us improve Papers Past.

Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image
Article image

NIGHT OF TERROR

THRILLS OF AN IVORY HUNTER.

Up: and down the African coast in native encampments, and among the traders who deal in pelts and ivory, you are likely to hear stiange tales □f a young Scot who bids fail* to eai n for himself the title of Lawrence of Africa. His exploits are confined to big game hunting, but his phenomenal success, the sureness of his hand and gye, and the hairbreadth escapes that have befallen him, have made Alexander Wardlaw a man of mystery and endless anecdotes.

He began by running away from school. At twelve-and-a-half he joined the Black Watch and fought in the war; he was at that time five feet four inches in height, and weighed ten stone! His age was discovered, however, and he was discharged. In 1915 he re-enlisted and kept his secret until 1917, when he was again sent back. Ho then went to Australia, a boy in years and a man in experience. He tried farming, until the drought broke him. This cool youngster then knocked about the South Sea. Islands for a spell; had a look at New Zealand'; hiked all over the United States and Canada, where he “whiled away* the time with a bit of bootlegging,” and in 1920, at the age of IS, returned to his native Scotland firmly decided to settle down. One afternoon, however, he went with his mother on a visit to a woman who was locally 7 famous for her power of second sight.

“Alex,” she said, “you will soon leave for Africa; you will lie for nights in the jungle, where a stick will save you. And when 1 see you again you will bear scars on your arm and forehead. and a broken knuckle.” Alex grinned at this, but the wanderlust had him, and within a fortnight ho was working his passage on a 400;.o'n boat from Glasgow bound for Sydney. He left the ship at Durban, and in hali-an-hour secured a job as overseer in a coalmine at £4O a month. His job, which was mainly superintending the native miners, involved him in several scuffles, and ended in •?. fight with a six-foot black. Wardlaw beat his man, but broke the knuckle of his right hand. “I recalled that woman’s words,” he said, “and saw with some consternation how she had already 7 proved correct on two points.” After a few months, Wardlaw, who had saved a useful sum from his wages, decided to try big game hunting. He bought second-hand rifles and equipment, hired two native boys, a tracker and a gun-bearer, and started ’.fter elephants in Rhodesia.

On his first day 7 he camo upon a clearing near Kashitu. Signs round ■ho water-hole told of a herd of elephants in the vicinity, and a low rumble was heard as the monsters ambled through the bush to their morning drink. Wardlaw handed a gun to his hearer, and told him to shoot the first elephant to appear, knowing that the biggest of the herd always leads the way to water. By a mischance, however, the first proved to be a baby elephant, which the native dropped with a single shot. \ “I saw his mistake at once,” continued the hunter, “and knew only too well the consequences. I leaped aside and swarmed up the nearest tree, dropping my rifle and shouting to my bearer to do the same. But before the poor follow could move an inch the cow elephant, a huge beast, rounded the corner, saw her dead offspring, and sighted the native. In a flash the elephant had covered the intervening 25 yards, and was on the wretched nigger-—like that!” He clapped his hands expressively.

“A man on the fastest racehorse could not have escaped. That elephant’s revenge was terrible. From above, I was forced to watch her trample, dance, and jump on the body of mj r unfortunate bearer for two and •.’-half hours, until nothing of the tragedy remained but a dull-reddish-brown patch of soaked grass. There was not vestige of recognisable flesh or bone.” For most men this would have been enough for one day, but Wardlaw was determined to wreak vengeance for his lost bearer, and with the remaining boy, who had waited out of harm’s way, he followed the herd, and from the top of a tree brought down three. Their tusks earned him £6OO for his first day’s hunting! He decided that his fortune lay in this pursuit of ivory, and after purchasing heavier guns in Bulawayo, and employing three native hunters, he began in earnest at a place called Nchanga, on the Übangi River, between French and Belgian Congo. His days were spent in shooting, and at periods he would load his tusks in canoes and take them down tef Shasaville, where he sold them to the Arab dealers. He declared a profit of £2OOO in less than IS months—and he was only 24! HIS RECORD BAG. Seeking variety, he decided to go after lions. He heard that a man had recently bagged seven in a single night at a place called Kaktau, near Kilimanjaro. He immediately went there, and took up his position in a small wooden shed beside a railway track.

Above the shed was a water tank for the engines; this leaked forming puddles on the ground; the only water for miles around.

“On my first night I made a record for Kenya Colony, and it may be for the world,” he continued. “I removed a board from the side of the hut, and, sitting quite comfortably in a deck chair inside, and in complete darkness, awaited the stealthy approach of the game. “A broken twig and a pair of baleful eyes only a yard from mine gave the alarm, and I fir.ed—my first trophy. Throughout tho night the kings of the forest came to drink, and I bagged 13 full grown lions.” “In January last year,” he went pn, I left Dar-es-Salaam for the Belgian Congo—this time in search of leopards. Each night I would set and bait steeljaw traps and inspect them the‘following morning. For some days I drew a series of depressing blanks. Then one morning a huge, roaring brute was tearing at the trap. Warily I paced around to see how the animal was caught, and found that it was held by a hand claw only. At that moment the leopard made) a mighty leap and broke clear. His leap carried him on top of me. A claw ripped my arm to ribbon’s, and I went down with 'the beapt op top. With vicious playfulness ’ he dabbqd a claw at my forehead, ripping pi<? < ? e of flesh clean away.' Thep'he raised his head and howled for his mate, and in that moment’s respite I "was : able to d t raw my and thrust 1

to his heart. He leaped five yards and dropped dead.

“Even*as I lay there, sweating and shivering alternately with the reaction, I remembered again that Scottish woman’s forecast. Was she to be wholly right in her grim prophecy? It came about thus: —

A number of natives and occasional whites brought Wardlaw weird tales of an enormous “phantom elephant,” so called because it was credited with four tusks, a valuable freak. This was too much for the young Scot’s adventurous spirit, and, getting together a band of carriers, he went on its trail. THE PHANTOM ELEPHANT. When 650 miles from the nearest outpost of civilisation (Albertville) lie sighted his quarry, a huge, uncannylooking brute with double the normal pair of tusks. If he had caught it, it would have earned him £5OOO as a museum specimen. As it was, he managed to wound it, and for days followed hard upon its bloody 7 spoor.

At a point where the jungle closed ■’n to shut out all sunlight, where the undergrowth and trees formed one thick maze of foliage, hot and fetid, Wardlaw suddenly pitched forward on his face —a victim of blackwater fever. To a man the natives turned and bolted. Two yards from the stricken man lay 7 his rifle.

With the coming of night, Wardlaw regained consciousness, only 7 to find that, ho was too weak to shout or raise a finger. All through that bitterly cold night, as icy 7 as the day was burning, he lay awake and staring witli only the dread jungle folk for company.

’l'he morning camo and he was still alive. In his bottle he had two pints of water, which, with infinite pains, ho managed to raise to his lips and sip sparingly. That day he moved exactly 12in nearer his rifle; it was all his fevered frame coould achieve. At. night fresh horrors awaited him.

“If ever man was near to madness, I was then,” he said, and his eyes betrayed the horror not yet wholly effaced. “I was parched, yet it meant a tremendous effort to raise the bottle to my lips; and I had the sense only to drink when absolutely forced. The next day I crawled a few inches nearer my 7 gun, and on the fourth day I reached it.

“All that night I fired round after round in the dual hope of attracting help and scaring the brutes of the forest. No help came, and my little store of strength was failing fast. On the seventh day my water- gave out, and for two more days of agony I lay without a drop to allay the fever.” On the ninth day the was found by 7 a, native runner, who promptly fetched tho headman of the nearest tribe. The headman brought with him a small stick —and that far-off woman’s prophecy was complete. The stick was from the root of a medicinal tree, and with it the headman brewed a fluid which he gave to the sick man. Natives then carried him 650 miles to tho hospital at Albertville, and Wardlaw pulled through, though for two riionths after his ordeal he was stoneblind.

Permanent link to this item

https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/GEST19290112.2.71

Bibliographic details

Greymouth Evening Star, 12 January 1929, Page 10

Word Count
1,667

NIGHT OF TERROR Greymouth Evening Star, 12 January 1929, Page 10

NIGHT OF TERROR Greymouth Evening Star, 12 January 1929, Page 10

Help

Log in or create a Papers Past website account

Use your Papers Past website account to correct newspaper text.

By creating and using this account you agree to our terms of use.

Log in with RealMe®

If you’ve used a RealMe login somewhere else, you can use it here too. If you don’t already have a username and password, just click Log in and you can choose to create one.


Log in again to continue your work

Your session has expired.

Log in again with RealMe®


Alert