Nature ami Art, July 1, 186(5 ] 
THE HONEY HUNTERS. 
41 
The “ honey - guide ” knows, too, that man, 
whether civilized or native, is as capable of break- 
ing open the hive as the woodpecker ; and the 
hunter, knowing from a distance the call of the 
bird, responds to it till it approaches near enough 
to assist him. The man who would shoot it would 
be reprobated and held in universal abhorrence. 
It is said that the “ guide ” will sometimes lead its 
follower to a serpent, lion, or other dangerous beast ; 
but these may naturally enough be in the path. 
Livingstone says that he was only once led to a 
black rhinoceros, and out of his 114 Makololo only 
one remembered having been so misled. 
The bird was first described by Spurrman in 1772 
and the variety he mentions ( Indicator Spurr- 
mannii, Sw.) is smaller than a thrush, grey brown 
above, whitish beneath, and found principally in the 
forests on the eastern coast, or towards Kaffraria. 
It feeds chiefly on bees and their honey, but Le 
Vaillant found nothing b\it wax and honey in its 
stomach, and the skin was thick and tough, so as 
effectually to defend it from the insect’s sting. 
The most remarkable nest I ever saw was in one 
of the densely-wooded kloofs near Sidbury, on the 
road between Port Elizabeth and Graham’s Town. 
The strata of the rock had been but slightly sepa- 
rated, and, owing to their formation, the narrow 
cleft thus formed curved so much that it was im- 
possible to reach more than a few feet from its 
front. The bees, therefore, built securely in its 
recesses, and only suffered occasional depredations 
when they had incautiously built so far forward 
that their combs could be reached and detached. 
It is well known that where the bees frequent 
the flowers of the Euphorbium, the honey acquires 
an acrid taste ; but, though many species grew 
among the rocks in this locality, I did not hear 
that the honey was affected, — probably because in- 
nocuous flowers were there in abundance for the 
bees to choose from. 
In Australia the natives, catching a bee, and im- 
peding its flight with a minute fragment of grass, 
will follow it for miles ; or, if they see two or more 
homeward bound, will calculate with mathematical 
accuracy the point where they ought to converge. 
Notches are then cut with the stone tomahawk, just 
sufficient for the insertion of the toes or fingers, 
the stem of the tall gum-tree rapidly ascended, 
the hollow sought out, and the nest plundered. 
I remember that during the Kaffir war, while 
riding with the mail escort to Fort Beaufort, we 
passed beneath the Krantz that overhangs the road 
near the junction of the Fish and Koonop rivers. 
One of the Hottentot soldiers looked up, and, de- 
tecting the flight of these little insects toward a 
crevice high up in the cleft, remarked to his com- 
rade, “ Some day when we are riding express, and 
no officer is with us, we’ll stop and take that nest.” 
The incident selected for illustration occurred 
some little distance from my house on Logier Hill, 
where I was endeavouring to rebuild the missing 
portions of my boat for our passage down the 
Zambesi. Chapman was encamped at a distance, 
hunting for me and for the party at his waggons, 
eighty miles away ; but his messengers consumed 
the meat they should have brought, and as the wild 
animals were relieved, by the rain-pools filling 
in the desert, from the necessity of coming to 
drink at the river, it was proportionably more 
difficult for me to shoot them, and necessary for 
me to leave my work more frequently for the pur- 
pose of doing so. Besides this, fever became rife 
among the party, and although my camp, being 
situate upon a small hill, was more healthy than 
that of my friend, one of my best workmen had 
died, and only one little brat — impudent as a street 
Arab of London, and all the more valuable be- 
cause no conceivable hardship could knock him 
up — was capable of attending me. I had been out 
several times with more or less success, and was 
myself growing weak from incessant exertion and 
scanty rations of raw hide and water, when, on 
Thursday, the 8th of January, 1863, I again 
crossed the river to Wankie’s village; but, for 
want of solid food, I dared not drink the native 
beer he gave me. I started towards the north-east 
with a very intelligent old fellow named Masaawe, 
and had gained the level of the table-land without 
meeting a sign of game, when I 
saw him examine a tree with 
great attention. A few of the 
small bees of the country were 
hovering above us, and some of 
them directed their course to a 
small crevice in one of the larger 
limbs. He deposited his spears, and, climbing up, 
minutely examined the aperture ; then, chopping 
off a piece of bark, and bruising up its ends so 
as to form a dish in which his boy might receive 
the spoil, he commenced enlarging the hole. The 
wood was softer than I had expected from the 
smallness of the leaf and the character of the 
bark, and was, moreover, rotten inside, so that 
he quickly began to reap the reward of his labour. 
He sent me a piece of comb, but the honey was 
soured and as sharp as vinegar, and when he 
reached the really good honey and the pollen, I 
I found myself unable to eat anything so luscious. 
We returned without game, and Pompey so 
| cleverly tricked me out of the last scrap of meat 
| by telling me that the chief was cooking flesh for 
me, that I hardly knew whether to laugh or be 
angry at his plausible story. That story, however, 
I soon found to be a fiction. Wankie, instead of 
offering me any, showed me some blue baft'as which 
the Mambari had given him, and I found his most 
delicate way of asking for a present was to make an 
attendant say to me, “ The Chief wishes to thank 
you,” and when I asked “What for?” he intimated 
the things he desired me to give him. He woiild 
not let me have a fowl for love or beads in any 
quantity, but gave me a bowl of maasa, or stiff pap 
of the flour of native millet, and next day, after 
another unsuccessful hunt, Masaawe, who had 
collected several edible flowei’s, berries, and roots, 
gave me some cucumbers and small melons, which, 
cured of their bitterness by boiling, were not un- 
pleasant. 
