Part 32

Vernacular Names:—Waterskap of Boers (Nicolls & Eglington); Nakong of Batauwani at Lake Ngami; Sitatunga, Puvula, and Unzuzu of the natives of the Chobé and Central Zambesi; N’zoe of the natives on the Lukanga River north of the Zambesi (Selous); Mula of the Awemba and Nsowi of the Ulungu and Mambwé districts of Mweru (Crawshay).

Adult male. Height at withers about 40 inches. Colour nearly uniform dark yellowish brown, becoming darker and of a more dusky hue on the shoulder, belly, and legs. Head a darker and richer brown, with a large whitish patch running inwards on each side from the inner corner of the eye; also a yellowish patch above the eye; two pale spots on the cheeks, the upper situated a short distance beneath the eye. Ears blackish behind, with a large grey patch below. Throat with an upper and lower white patch. Underside of tail white. Fore legs white on the inner side at the base and behind the knee; spots on the pasterns faint; hind legs white on the inner side down to the hock.

Adult female. Without horns, but nearly resembling the adult male in colour.

The skull of an adult male (type) gives the following measurements:—Basal length 10·5 inches; orbit to muzzle 6·5; greatest width 4·5; horn 21 in straight line, 25·75 round the curve. Hoof: length along front 4·10; thickness from back to front 1·5.

These descriptions are taken from the skin and skull of an adult male (the type), obtained by Mr. Coryndon on the Barotze River, and kindly lent to us by the Hon. Walter Rothschild, M.P.

In his original diagnosis of Limnotragus selousi, Mr. Rothschild took the characters of the female from the specimen of this sex, from Lake Ngami, now living in the Zoological Society’s Gardens. In the specimens of L. selousi, however, from the Barotze River the immature female is of a rich red colour, inclining to black in the dorsal region, whereas the female from Lake Ngami was at the time of its arrival in England, when only half-grown, of the same nearly uniform tint as it is now when fully adult. Moreover, Mr. Selous, who has seen many skins of this Antelope from the Chobé, kindly informs us, in reply to an inquiry on this point, that the young are, according to his experience, never rufous in colour; although when newly born they are marked with white stripes and spots which subsequently disappear.

We cannot explain these discrepancies at present, but must leave the matter as it stands for the investigation of future observers.

Hab. Swamps of the district of Lake Ngami and similar localities on the Zambesi and its tributaries; thence north to Lake Mweru.

The discovery of the existence of an Antelope of this water-loving group in South-west Africa was made even before Speke obtained his specimens of the last species in Karagweh. The well-known traveller, Charles John Andersson, met with the “Nakong,” as he calls it, during his explorations of Lake Ngami. In the volume descriptive of his four years’ wanderings, published in 1856, when calling attention to the great variety of large animals found in that district, more especially in the vicinity of the rivers, he mentions “two new species of Antelope, the Nakong and the Leché,” and gives a lithographic plate, drawn by Wolf, to illustrate them as they appeared in their native haunts. Not having before him actual specimens of the former Antelope to draw from, the great artist had apparently only Andersson’s somewhat imperfect information upon which to prepare his likeness of the “Nakong.” He consequently gave a more prominent place in his illustration to the Leché (Cobus lechee), and hid the Nakong in a reed-bed, leaving only its kudu-like horns, of which Mr. Andersson’s friend, Col. Steele, was fortunately able to supply specimens, plainly visible. Andersson speaks of the Nakong as a “Waterbuck,” which, by means of its peculiarly long hoofs, not unfrequently attaining a length of six or seven inches, is able to traverse with great facility the reedy bogs and quagmires with which the country abounds.

Another well-known African explorer, Thomas Baines, who penetrated far into South-west Africa from Walfisch Bay a few years later, also mentions the Nakong as amongst several new or little-known Antelopes found in that district.

About the same time also the South African Museum received specimens of this Antelope from the Lake Ngami district, through Mr. J. J. Wilson, of Otjimbinque, and Messrs. Chapman. Mr. Layard, in his Catalogue of the Mammals of that Museum, published in 1861, refers these specimens very doubtfully to Tragelaphus eurycerus, but shows very clearly by his description that they really belonged to the present species.

Sir John Kirk, in his article on the Mammals of Zambesia, read before the Zoological Society in 1864, mentions the “Nakong” as frequenting the papyrus and rushes on the River Chobé. He naturally refers it to Tragelaphus spekii, with which, until quite recently, it was generally believed to be identical. In the same way Sir Victor Brooke, in his article on Speke’s Antelope and its allied species, published in the Zoological Society’s ‘Proceedings’ for 1871, comprises in his list of specimens of Tragelaphus spekii those of the two allied forms, which we here treat of as probably distinct. Of these, his specimens “h” (“frontal bones, horns, and feet, in the collection of Mr. Oswell”) are, no doubt, referable to Limnotragus selousi.

Mr. Selous, in his excellent and often-quoted article on the Antelopes of Central South Africa (P. Z. S. 1881, p. 753), writes of this species (which Mr. Rothschild has appropriately named after the famous hunter) as follows:—

“This Antelope is only met with in the extensive swamps which exist in some parts of the interior of Africa. In the reed-beds of the Mababe, Tamalakan, and Machabe rivers it is to be found; and in the vast marshes through which the Chobe runs it must exist in considerable numbers, although, as it only emerges from the dense reed-beds at night, it is scarcely ever to be seen. In 1879 I tried hard to shoot some of these animals on the Chobe, searching for them in a canoe amongst the reed-beds at early dawn and after sunset; but though I disturbed several, and heard them splashing away amongst the reeds and papyrus, I only saw one female alive, though one morning I found a fine ram lying dead that had evidently been killed fighting with a rival during the night. The head and feet of this animal I preserved. The female that I saw was standing breast deep in the water, in the midst of a bed of reeds, feeding on the young shoots that just appeared above the water. When she saw us she at once made off, making a tremendous splashing as she plunged through the water. The natives told me that very often when these Antelopes are met with under similar circumstances they do not attempt to run, but, sinking down in the water, submerge their whole bodies, leaving only their nostrils above the surface, and trusting that their enemies will pass them unobserved; they (the Kafirs) then paddle close alongside and assegai them from the canoe. As all the Situtungas the skins of which I saw had been killed with assegais, and not shot, I have no doubt that this statement is correct. Another way the natives have of killing them is by setting fire to the reeds when they become quite dry, and then waiting for the Situtungas in their canoes in one of the channels of open water by which the marsh is intersected. Driven forwards by the advancing fire, the Antelopes are at last obliged to swim across the open water to gain the shelter of the reeds on the further side; and the natives are thus often enabled to cut off and assegai some of them in mid stream.”

We have already alluded to the occurrence of this species in Barotze-land, where Mr. Coryndon obtained specimens for Mr. Rothschild. Still further to the north-east we find that a species of the Sitatunga group, which, we suppose, should also be referred to L. selousi, occurs, according to Sir Harry Johnston, “in the swamps of Lake Mweru, in the Loangwa valley, and in other parts of British Central Africa.” Mr. Richard Crawshay, C.M.Z.S., has favoured us with the following field-notes which he has drawn up as the result of his long experience with the animal-life of the district of Lake Mweru:—

“This Antelope is known by the people of the Itawa and Kabwiri—who are, as I have before mentioned, branches of the Awemba—as ‘Mula.’ By the people of Ulungu and Mambwe (where I suppose it is also found) it is known as ‘Nsowi.’

“I had been six months or more at Mweru before any proof was forthcoming that such an animal existed. Then, when shooting wild- fowl on the outskirts of a vast and impenetrable swamp between Rhodesia and the Luao River, I came upon the remains of what had been a fine pair of horns just on the margin of the water. The horns had been submerged during the rains and were fast decaying. All that was recoverable was one fairly sound horn with a fragment of the frontal bone attached. This horn, I think, measured 21¾ inches.

“Some months later when at Mkula’s, on the Chisela River, I was given by the chief a perfect, though smaller, pair of horns. A skin was also offered me—I don’t know if it was the skin—but so discoloured with dirt and smoke, from lying in a native hut, that I did not think it worth having.

“Mkula told me there were a good many ‘Mula’ in the swamps below his town, and that one way or another his people had killed seven or eight during the six years or so he had been at the Chisela River, but that they were very difficult to get at, and when got at—viz., roused—even more difficult to kill.

“On expressing my eagerness to shoot, or at least see, a ‘Mula,’ he did not give me much hope of doing either the one or the other. A glance at the Chisela River reed-beds from a heap outside the town did not reassure me. All the same, during two visits to Mkula’s—one the middle of July, the other at the very end of October 1892—I did my utmost to effect my object, spending the greater part of my time in the swamp, wading and wallowing in mud, water, and reeds, but found it killing work. Scarcely a native would follow me in a second attempt. The combined rays of the sun, mosquitos, leeches, and a most sickening stench from the swamp, proved a severe trial to my patience and perseverance. Ultimately I gave up without getting a shot at a ‘Mula.’ Luckily such hard labour earned some reward. I saw two ‘Mula’ and heard others, besides gaining an insight into their ways and haunts. Were I to try again for this Antelope under similar conditions, I would build a platform, 20 feet high or so, in the swamp, overlooking the feeding-grounds of the ‘Mula,’ and would watch from this platform say from 3.30 P.M. until dark. The remains of the ‘Mula’s’ head from the Luao River swamp, as also the horns given me by Mkula, were sent home along with the other Antelopes’ heads.”

So far as we know, only two examples of this Sitatunga have ever reached Europe alive. Both of these are now living, in good health, in the Zoological Society’s Gardens in the Regent’s Park. The first arrival was a young female, received as a present from Mr. James A. Nicolls, F.Z.S., of Belmont House, Navan, Ireland, on October 14th, 1890. In a footnote to Nicolls and Eglington’s ‘Sportsman in South Africa’ we are informed that the animal in question was captured by Mr. Nicolls alongside the dead body of its dam, which had been shot by him in the Taoke swamp, forty miles from Lake Ngami.

On referring to Mr. Nicolls’s articles in the ‘Field’ newspaper, in which his “Travels and Sport along the Botletle River and round Lake Ngami” are narrated, we find the occurrence in question described as follows:—

“At midday (in August 1887) we arrived at Ku-Ku’s. A native missionary, who has spent several years in this country representing the London Missionary Society, informed us that his efforts towards converting the Western Bamangwato tribes and Makobas to Christianity had up to the present proved unsuccessful. From him we also received intelligence that the Nakon waterbuck was very plentiful in the Taoke swamp, a distance of twenty miles off. This was indeed very joyful news to me, as I had always been most anxious to shoot a specimen of this animal, a prize which, I understood, had not previously been obtained by any white man, at least south of the Zambesi. However, Ku-Ku strongly advised me not to go shooting in the swamp till I had seen Moremi and obtained his permission to do so, on account, Ku-Ku said, of that chief being very unwilling to allow any strangers there, the district being used by his people as a place of refuge in case of another attack by the Matabele. I adopted his advice, which, as it turned out afterwards, was rightly given.

“I arrived at De Nokane, Moremi’s town (a distance of 537 miles 680 yards from Khama’s). The station occupied by the chief is situated on a small river which issues from the Okavango, and finally gets lost in the vast Taoke swamp.

“At midday I came to a large Makoba village, built on a small piece of rising ground adjoining the swamp. To the left, right, and front, as far as the eye could reach, there was nothing visible but vast patches of tall reeds; here and there, on portions of more rising ground, little groves of dwarf fan-palms; and occasionally, as if a godsend to relieve the monotony of such a dreary landscape, a towering palm waved its feathered head to the uncertain breeze.

“As I had still a long distance to walk before arriving at the spot most frequented by the Nakon, and as I desired to be there at least an hour before sundown (this, or shortly after daylight in the morning, being the only time at which a fair chance of a shot could be obtained), without making any delay, I at once entered the swamp, and for the first half-hour waded knee-deep in water, caused by a late overflow from the Taoke river, and my progress, although very tiring, was at least endurable. Resting for about twenty minutes on a small dry knoll, overgrown with fan-palms, my Makoba guides, of whom I had three, pointed to a long green streak of rushes about three miles off, which, they assured me, was very much frequented by the game I was in search of. Progression now became more difficult, as the water not only became much deeper, but firm footing was more uncertain, owing to the burrowing of fish in the alluvial soil. One of my guides now took the lead, and with the end of his long fish assegai tried every inch of the ground in front as we went along. Notwithstanding his solicitude on my behalf, I had the misfortune to plunge head forward into a hole, thoroughly saturating my clothing and filling my rifle with water. It was nearly four o’clock in the afternoon when I arrived at another small island within 300 or 400 yards of the fringe of reeds I have before alluded to, and which was really the bed of the Taoke choked up by rotten vegetation and papyrus-roots, the river slowly percolating through the mass. Having enjoyed an hour’s rest on this haven of safety, and the favourable time having arrived, I again proceeded onwards, and found that my work up to that time had been merely child’s play, compared to that which I now had before me. There was no footing whatever obtainable, with the exception of a network of papyrus-roots, which stretched along in every direction, and was just sufficiently tough to support a man, the bog moving up and down at every footstep. To add to the charm of the situation, the mosquitoes, prematurely disturbed from their afternoon siesta, rose in clouds from the rotten swamp, biting my face, neck, and hands most viciously. Groping and staggering along in this manner till about an hour before sundown, I had seen no game, and was just beginning to give it up as a bad job, when one of the Makobas pointed out the figure of an animal lying, or standing, with a portion of its back and the whole head out of the water, about 200 yards away. It was a Nakon ram, carrying a very fine pair of horns; but from the position he was placed in, I saw there was no earthly chance of killing him at the distance. Thinking to approach a little, I advanced cautiously; but had scarcely proceeded a dozen yards when, as if out of the water, not more than 60 yards off, up jumped another one, bounding along crossways with a most convulsive-looking movement. I took a very hasty shot, and had the satisfaction of seeing the animal tumble over with a big splash in the water. It turned out, unfortunately, to be a doe, full-grown, with a young one at foot. I had shot my first Nakon, and I solemnly affirm it will certainly be my last, except under much more favourable circumstances. An attempt to bring out the carcase that night being utterly useless, two Makobas slept on the small island, and I myself turned back to the village, where I arrived long after midnight, and, although completely done up with fatigue, could not sleep a wink, owing to the myriads of mosquitoes which preyed on me the whole night long.”

From Lake Ngami the little animal thus captured was carried by Mr. Nicolls and his companions in their waggon 800 miles to Kimberley, and thence brought by rail and steamer to London. On arrival at the Gardens it was placed in a sheltered compartment of the Gazelles’ sheds, in which the yard in front was covered with dried peat-fibre in order to suit its elongated hoofs. Accompanying the Secretary’s Report on the additions to the Society’s Menagerie in October 1890, in which its arrival was noticed, will be found a coloured plate by Mr. Smit, giving an accurate representation of the animal as it then appeared. The Sitatunga thus acquired quickly attained its full stature, and showing symptoms of readiness to breed, was placed, in 1894, in company with a male of the Congo species (L. gratus) which had been obtained by purchase from the Zoological Gardens, Hamburg, no male of its own species being available. From this union hybrids were born on February 12th, 1896, and on February 28th, 1897, being in each case of the female sex. The period of gestation was, in both cases, about seven months. The young animals in general appearance took after the colour of the female of L. gratus, being of a generally bright red colour with white lateral stripes and white spots on the haunches. Such a young one is well represented, along with its mother, in the background of our Plate XCIV. In June 1899 the Society were fortunate enough to obtain a fine adult male example of this Antelope from the Right Honourable Cecil J. Rhodes’s Park at Groot Schuur, near Capetown, from which the principal figure in our Plate XCIV. has been taken. Mr. Rhodes kindly accepted in exchange for it one of the female hybrids above mentioned. The Society have therefore at present a unique pair of this scarce and beautiful Antelope in the Collection, besides the female hybrid born in 1896.

The specimens in the National Collection referable to this form of the Sitatunga comprise two pairs of horns from the Chobé River (Selous), one pair of young horns from Lake Ngami (J. A. Green), the skin of an adult from the Zambesi (Chapman), and a pair of horns from Lake Mweru (Crawshay).