The Bush Boys | Page 7

in some spots to the
depth of several inches. What bushes there were were clustered with
them,-- all over the leaves and branches, as if swarms of bees had
settled upon them. Not a leaf or blade of grass that was not covered
with their bodies!
They moved not, but remained silent, as if torpid or asleep. The cold of
the evening had deprived them of the power of flight.
What was strangest of all to the eyes of Von Bloom and Hendrik, was
the conduct of their own horses and cattle. These were some distance
out in the midst of the sleeping host; but instead of being alarmed at
their odd situation, they were greedily gathering up the insects in
mouthfuls, and crunching them as though they had been corn!
It was with some difficulty that they could be driven off; but the roar of
a lion, that was just then heard over the plain, and the repeated
application of Swartboy's jambok, rendered them more tractable, and at
length they suffered themselves to be driven home, and lodged within
their kraals.

Swartboy had provided himself with a bag, which he carried back full
of locusts.
It was observed that in collecting the insects into the bag, he acted with
some caution, handling them very gingerly, as if he was afraid of them.
It was not them he feared, but snakes, which upon such occasions are
very plenteous, and very much to be dreaded--as the Bushman from
experience well knew.
CHAPTER FOUR.
A TALK ABOUT LOCUSTS.
It was a night of anxiety in the kraal of the field-cornet. Should the
wind veer round to the west, to a certainty the locusts would cover his
land in the morning, and the result would be the total destruction of his
crops. Perhaps worse than that. Perhaps the whole vegetation
around--for fifty miles or more--might be destroyed; and then how
would his cattle be fed? It would be no easy matter even to save their
lives. They might perish before he could drive them to any other
pasturage!
Such a thing was by no means uncommon or improbable. In the history
of the Cape colony many a boor had lost his flocks in this very way. No
wonder there was anxiety that night in the kraal of the field-cornet.
At intervals Von Bloom went out to ascertain whether there was any
change in the wind. Up to a late hour he could perceive none. A gentle
breeze still blew from the north--from the great Kalihari desert--
whence, no doubt, the locusts had come. The moon was bright, and her
light gleamed over the host of insects that darkly covered the plain. The
roar of the lion could be heard mingling with the shrill scream of the
jackal and the maniac laugh of the hyena. All these beasts, and many
more, were enjoying a plenteous repast.
Perceiving no change in the wind, Von Bloom became less uneasy, and
they all conversed freely about the locusts. Swartboy took a leading
part in this conversation, as he was better acquainted with the subject

than any of them. It was far from being the first flight of locusts
Swartboy had seen, and many a bushel of them had he eaten. It was
natural to suppose, therefore, that he knew a good deal about them.
He knew not whence they came. That was a point about which
Swartboy had never troubled himself. The learned Hans offered an
explanation of their origin.
"They come from the desert," said he. "The eggs from which they are
produced, are deposited in the sands or dust; where they lie until rain
falls, and causes the herbage to spring up. Then the locusts are hatched,
and in their first stage are supported upon this herbage. When it
becomes exhausted, they are compelled to go in search of food. Hence
these `migrations,' as they are called."
This explanation seemed clear enough.
"Now I have heard," said Hendrik, "of farmers kindling fires around
their crops to keep off the locusts. I can't see how fires would keep
them off--not even if a regular fence of fire were made all round a field.
These creatures have wings, and could easily fly over the fires."
"The fires," replied Hans, "are kindled, in order that the smoke may
prevent them from alighting; but the locusts to which these accounts
usually refer are without wings, called voetgangers (foot-goers). They
are, in fact, the larvae of these locusts, before they have obtained their
wings. These have also their migrations, that are often more destructive
than those of the perfect insects, such as we see here. They proceed
over the ground by crawling and leaping like grasshoppers; for, indeed,
they are grasshoppers--a species of them. They keep on in one direction,
as if